Funny enough, in Victorian times, just because how time consuming laundry was—a mistress of the house who does not have to chip in to help with the weekly laundry would have been VERY rich—Well beyond your average upper middle class merchant.

Women back in the Regency didn’t wear underwear, women or men. The men would just tuck the hems of their shirts between their legs and everything would be secured by the tight trousers of the era.

But it must be said, the ads for ye olde schoole abortion pills were remarkably straightforward.

I mean, doing laundry back then takes three full days of work.

I’m pretty sure Disney’s Robin Hood already has that covered.

Time to build that Abortion Clinic on the US-Canadian* Border.

Gaston’s neck is not thick enough.

Time to go look for those Horcruxes.

I’m pretty sure Cohen is Canadian.

Jesus, is there anything this woman can’t do?

Coffee really gets my bowels going. I have to schedule a full hour for breakfast because I pretty much crap everything in my colon out in a semi liquid and gassy explosion about 20 minutes after my morning coffee.

Now everyone should find their Julia or Winston (or both, we be liberals here) and fuck above a antique shop?

wanna play “find the enclitic?”

Have we made the annual quota of cunning linguist jokes yet?

“A masculine blend of Orange Flower and Jasmine.”

Bless their hearts.

See also, Trump D.J.

DA FUCK NATE SILVER, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE CHOSEN ONE!

It’s actually pretty funny in that the Government of Quebec still refuse to acknowledge it on their maps.

That, and a lot of passive-aggressive bitching. British Columbia still have not recovered from that time the English made them hand over quite a lot of prime real estate to Alaska in 1903.