Hey y'all! I went to Montreal Comic Con this weekend and met Michael Dorn and Marina Sirtis. Marina Sirtis is super nice, and really, really liked my clothing. I feet validated/fashionable!

Don't worry. I knew too. Instantly.

Aaaahhhahahahah! The terrible thing is that, in the context of the sentence as written, "shitted" works better.

Yes! I do this exact same thing, and that's part of what made me wonder! Because I'm always like "Okay, now look away so you don't seem like a creepy Mesmer-wannabe"—followed occasionally by "Whoops, look away from the groin!"

Seriously. I don't care if somebody glances at my tits, or my legs, or my ass—those are all attractive parts of my body that regularly make me go "Damn, girl!" when I look in the mirror. Glance away! But if you stare fixedly at said body parts, you are going to creep me out. Because you're creepy.

Okay, how many of those "bicep cam" moments were the women checking out his biceps, and how many were them just naturally looking over at his arm as he waved it around? Also, many of the "crotch cam" moments appear to just be them glancing down possibly at his shoes, possibly at the floor, and in the process their…

Yup, I remember my Mum noticing that in both my brother and me. We get it from my Dad, especially, I think. I remember when I was quite little, he went to Australia for a couple of weeks: it took him several days when he got back to start sounding like himself again.

I know, oh god—I'm always afraid they're going to think I'm making fun of them! When I'm in the UK, I have to fight it so hard. Once on an archaeological excavation, I spent three weeks hanging out with these incredibly upper-class British people. By the end of the dig, I had picked up all of the nuances of their…

Awww, he has the same problem as me! People are always like "What's your accent?" and I'm always like, "Oh, fuck, what am I doing with my voice right now?" My accent jumps around wildly depending on context and who I'm hanging out with. I completely code-switch depending on which part of my family I'm hanging out…

Yay terriers! I really do like all dogs, but terriers will always be the best. Only a terrier can cause me to become a moron in the middle of the sidewalk if I encounter one while walking. And if I bump into a Scottie, you can watch my brain fall directly out of my ear.

Groooosssss. Damn, Ms. Collins, that's just appalling.

Hahah, exactly! She was always so excited about eating them, even though she didn't like the process of getting them out (she hated to be messed with—it made her eyes sort of roll back in her head in a way that just screamed "Oh, god, what are you doing to me?" Best. Scottie dog. Ever.)

The thing is, if he's being broody and acting weird and causing her to suspect something because of this, then from my perspective he needs to suck it up, get over it, and stop being a damn baby. Marriage is about mutual respect, honesty, etc., but there are nuances here, and I don't believe in full disclosure when…

Exactly—he gets to feel righteous for having done "the right thing", and she gets to feel absolutely sick over something she never needed to know about in the first place. Total douche move.

I think she's averaging out across a population, since obviously there would be individual variation with this rule.

Damn—I sort of feel like telling his wife at this point would be selfish. It's more about making himself feel better through some cleansing confession than about actually improving their relationship. If it really was a one-time thing, he needs to move on and forget about it, rather than hurting his wife by suddenly…

Oh man, it's good she never saw me with my dog—not only did my entire family refer to them as "eyeboogers", we used to let her eat them when we were done. It made her feel better about us messing with her eyes.

Oh noooo—is she really a member of the BNP? Eeeewwwww.

Aw man, does this mean everybody else has laser nipples? God damn it, all I got was these stupid flesh ones. I demand an updated laser guidance system!

I've always used the thirty second rule. Honestly, I just really want the food I'm eating most of the time.