Curious - is this in a public school system where you get to host (frankly, necessary) philosophical debates like this?! I’m not sure how others would feel, but if I’m being honest, I’d welcome this sort of discourse in my kids’ classrooms. However, I can’t see it being acceptable fare in my local (U.S.) Midwest…

If men could get pregnant, none of this would be an issue. It wouldn’t be a debate. Hell, it wouldn’t even be a conversation.

A few things.

I believe they will judge this guy.

It’s a Pop Tart filled with nasty meat 

I

Keto Crotch.

Well, hey there, ol’ buddy Frank! It’s me, your favorite humpback henchman, Torgo! 🖐 🤚

In the early 90s, I was in high school and all about mall surfing and AquaNet. The summer after graduation, I WANTED to backpack in Europe with the rest of my friends, but my mom - get this - left me at home with my four siblings and a cunty, crotchety old blue-haired nanny (I mean - I was 17!! WTF!? A sitter?!) while…

I’ve heard of that licorice from the Netherlands...hard-core!!

I’ve always wondered how it is that tastebuds and palates change over an individual’s lifetime. It’s so weird.

Oh man, the cereal article was the absolute last straw for me. Apple News: I DO NOT WANT KONSTANT K-NEWS. I have gone into my settings and officially BLOCKED the following K-garbage topics and all of their variants:

Oh, yeah. Sanchez did that shit.

I know I’m like a couple dozen hours late to this party, but holy shit. I’m bawling.

My God, I’ve never thought about it that way...genius!! 

oh God. Now I’m curious. But terrified. Please, someone else google that term and report back here so I don’t have to look...

Am I imagining things, or did the production staff take some liberties with a few sound effects? I feel like this removal was a bit “enhanced” in the sound department. I’ve watched thousands of these things and have never heard a Pilar cyst sounding like jelly between the fingers.

It’s probably too late in life for me to start over and go back to school to become a dermatologist. It’s a regret I’ve lived with since about 2008 when I first became unabashedly addicted to zit-popping porn.

OK. I have three kids under 10. If I owned an eleventy-kerbillion-dollar piece of artwork, I sure as hell wouldn’t be bringing it onto a fucking boat with those monsters. Secondly, even if I did, that shit is going to be saran-wrapped, bubble-wrapped, and gangster-rapped into oblivion before being stowed away in an…

That’s just it. There’s no purpose. None. Not one of those stuffshirts is gazing into their on-board art collections - soul-searching, contemplating the deeper meaning of life, and/or experiencing epiphanies.