Don’t worry, the fact that their next president has ovaries will give them PLENTY to obsessively whine about.

Not if she’s the issuing judge. She’s got a right to temporarily do what she wants with it.

Not sending people to prison for non-violent crimes is not that radical an idea, actually.

Eight more of these, on the other hand...

Absolutely not. We her, and need more people like her, in lower courts, where day-to-day decisions get made.

Here’s one of the worst things about this POS getting off after murdering that little boy: you know one day he’s going to kill someone else. He’s already come close with his girlfriend(s?) in the past; it’s just a matter of time before he murders someone else. The jury that acquitted him and the DA office that…

Did he just pull a “Do you know who I am?” when his “claim to fame” is killing an unarmed black teenager?

What she did with her own hair didn’t inspire confidence either. They would have done better asking each of the models what their 60 second look was.

I don’t spit but I do grab them when they touch my hair. People get really freaked out and lose their shit about it.

I've actually spat on someone who touched my hair on the subway, albeit on their pants, not their face. When asked why I did it, I said I wanted to feel his leg.

I think it’s because he had to wear a dress and it 100% made his ass look big.

I bet Lady Godiva’s horse was stressed beyond belief.

Alright. That does it. It is a billion degrees outside and not a single degree cooler in my house. I have been called a whore already today for arguing that Dumpenfloofer is not qualified for the role of President since he stated that he has no intention of fulfilling the duties of the office and now this. Fuck…

The only thing I want in my life is for someone to greet me like Leslie Jones greets both of them.

Moreover, I think my wife is a total badass.

32DD/E here and fucks have stopped being given. Bralettes are great.

*glances down at F-cups firmly ensconced in literally the only bra that works on them*

Or look them in the eye and state you just had a miscarriage. I guarantee they will never, ever ask that question again. Almost guarantee - I agree with your brain-cell commentary.

A lady asked me "When's the baby due?" while I was at ~a bar~ drinking ~copious amounts of booze.~