Okay, so I'm chilling out in my apartment alone—I made a pizza, and am currently draining my second gin and tonic. My question is, does this make me an alcoholic? Also, if yes, would playing my guitar while looking as cool as I'm capable of looking make this alcoholism better or worse? Also, holy crap, how did I get…

Exactly—all is lost. Drink all the booze in your house and have ill-advised sex with the person of your choice.

How! How had I never seen this before? Do you have any idea what a LOTR geek I am? Have you seen my username? How is this new to me? And I love you.

Honey, what you have to understand is this: It's the end-times. Jweats are the first horseman. Flee.

Mine is just me, because I made it that when I started here and can't be arsed to change it. Also, I really like that photo of me.

What was the title of that one? I vaguely remember it, but its escaping me, and now I sort of want to reread it.

Wooah, no you don't! You can get in on this poly-whovian marriage if you like, but nobody bogarts the Rory!

Well, if we're going that way, we might as well both marry Catherine Tate, Daniel Craig, David Tennant, and the entire current cast of Doctor Who.

Okay, I really want to marry Daniel Craig, but I also want to marry Catherine Tate. What am I supposed to do about this, huh? I am having such stress over this love triangle, especially since neither of them is helping me choose! Come on, people, get involved! Jeeze, you'd think they didn't even know I existed. So…

Hey, I totally just saw that film! So much fun! But I spent over half the movie with my hand over my mouth to keep from just shouting "Kiss him, you fool!"

One of my Mum's good friends has been married to a rather well known musician for over 30 years—in the 70s, when they were young and still dating, she regularly got death threats from fans with crushes on him.

Just one small note on the funeral thing—I'm in total agreement with you for almost 100% of guests, but members of the immediate family can wear whatever the hell they want. Frankly, people should congratulate them on managing to put on pants.

Chuck Norris? Pfft. Chuck Norris has a picture of Sean Bean on his ceiling, and at night he lies in bed and wishes he were that badass.

Okay, I guess I just don't see irony in it—for me when it's hot out, babies wear tank tops, just like everybody else, except that babies can get away with totally skipping the top half of an outfit if you slap a little sunscreen on them. When I was a baby I ran around in tank tops, tank dresses, or just a diaper all…

I'm sure you mean well, but there is seriously nothing remotely sexualized about that little dress—it's totally standard, totally adorable baby-wear, and I'm a little weirded out that you look at that and think "cleavage!"

I strongly recommend the bean burger recipe from The Veganomicon—so much deliciousness! Especially if you put in the cilantro it lists as optional. You can use red beans instead of black beans, too, and then they look bizarrely like meat burgers. [www.democraticunderground.com]

In a sudden loneliness-based psychic explosion, Jennifer Aniston has inadvertantly created Hurricane Baby! What brave man will save the future of the human race by wedding this devastated spinster and finally giving her the only thing that will grant her fulfillment and thus end the horror: a baby of her very own?

P.S., Hearted

Holy shit. I have a new favourite song.

You're totally not alone, but I have no idea how many more of us there are, or what the others do about theirs, so I'm not particularly helpful. I tend to just trim a little, but I leave the butt completely alone.