Give me an argument to give my mom regarding car size and safety. Namely, she doesn’t seem to understand that my late 90s GM battleship is probably less safe in a collision than the 2015 Ford Focus I rented for my last road trip due to crumple zones.

What’s the deal with Fashion Officer Lauren Flax up there?

Could be worse. Last time Montana pooped out an NFL QB, we ended up with Ryan Leaf.

Yeah, you know what, I don’t need to comment here. Thanks for remind me of that. Fuck you. Good luck with everything.

The worst part about reading this, for me, is that I do know Actual Male Feminists. I’ve been good friends with them. They’re legit. This fuckup is making the rest of them look bad and both giving them less credibility and possibly alienating them from continuing to be allies because why be an ally when all you do is…

I have a close friend who was in in-patient treatment for a while for an eating disorder, and I can’t think of any of my female friends who don’t have at least a complicated love/hate relationship with food, if not a full-blown diagnosis at some point in their lives.

My high school best friend drove a Cimarron.

Oh thank goodness. I thought I was the only one who felt like the Director’s Cut sucked in comparison to the original. Someone gave it to me as a well-intentioned gift, and I really should trade it in for the theatrical version sometime.

My band made a protest track for a compilation supporting the NoDAPL protesters.

I’m putting my ante on “coke bloat” in the betting pool.

Former irresponsible powersports rider. I agree, and I don’t think it’s blaming the parents to point out that people need to treat them with more respect.

I judge people on their text style. If you can’t use full words, initial caps, and punctuation, I will think less of you.

My dad taught at schools all across Montana, including the territorial prison for a while, when they actually had a school on site, and he never needed a gun in 40 years.

Jeezus, get that girl some handwraps. I used to bare knuckle on heavy bags (old-ass heavy bags, where everything has settled and it’s basically clay 3/4s of the way down), and now my hands are half-fucked due to tendon damage.

I got Lee Greenwood confused with Lee Hazlewood, and had a moment of artistic panic...

Same thoughts, more or less. The density of the symbolism makes me want to spend some time digging into the painting, and I like the juxtapositions, especially the skyline and the Christ/scholar/scales figure. It’s not hyper refined, but it’s far above what I’d expect from an 18 year old, and I want to see more of his…

Really? More dumping on MMA?

Great, now I have this fucking song stuck in my head.

Word. I just started performing recently, and it became clear within the first rehearsal that if I couldn’t hear my own guitar, I couldn’t do shit. Not sure why that surprised me, but it made monitors go from theoretical to MISSION CRITICAL.

FUCK THE MILLENNIUM.