My interpretation of the underwater “kiss” is that he was trying to share his breath with her...

I struggle with anxiety, stress, and depression, and the thing that’s helping me the most right now (besides meds and trying to keep up with good nutrition and exercise) is a mindfulness meditation app called Headspace. I can't recommend it highly enough. It's helped me get past morning stress gagging & puking that…

Also, it’s going to blur like a sonofabitch in a few years. Those tiny fine lines won’t be clear for long!

The commentators also said that she was in a deep depression until her husband told her to “snap out of it and get back to work.” (Commentator’so actual words.) “Snap out of it.” I’m done.

They only kneel during play. When they're by the chair they stand and wait until they're given instructions.

He’s not trying to block her. Ball kids have to be on standby near the players during changeovers, and they are expected to run fall-out to every position. He's just doing his job.

Ball kids have very specific places they are required to be, and they are expected to get there as quickly as possible. His job is to be in that spot during the changeover so that he can respond to anything she might need. There would have been another ball kid in the same position on McHale’s side.

I made myself some pretend butterbeer with vanilla vodka, butterscotch schnapps, cream soda, and whipped cream. It's keeping me interested in what is otherwise a woefully slow tennis match.

I’m just so relieved to find out I’m not the only one who’s carried a secret cartoon torch all these years. Rip, Mr. Bedford.

My current jam is “Tear You Apart,” which has taken up residence in my head since AHS:Hotel. And the person I want to tear apart is Chris Hemsworth, so much so that I actually wrote a 325-page Thor fanfic that might be the best thing I’ve ever written but I can’t publish it

We just finished our third week of school (I’m a teacher in NE Ohio!) But anyway, my back-to-school story is from my first day of kindergarten, lo these many years ago. I already knew how to read and write and apparently I wanted to show the teacher my best stuff. According to my parents (I personally have no memory…

I hereby swear that I will burn KFC HQ to the ground in Satan’s own kitchen fire if my retired parents call me for help hooking up their grease-spotted new photo printer.

Years from now, all the college anthologies will be discussing the line regarding the microscope that comes with yellow boots.

Movies are hard! Will you buy me something? *twirls hair*

Can we back up and talk about how creepily Doctor Slutshamer went on about what a WOOOONDERFUL woman Ma Peggy is?

Do you want your Internet Money back or something?

Oh good. Now I can tear the roof of my mouth to shreds AND feel the splort of a globby substance in my mouth without having to eat this entire Nutritous Whore's Breakfast (tm)

Happy anniversary and thanks for your work here! But I think we can all agree that chefs aren't the arbiters of taste when there are much more important individuals around... (ahem)

YOU TAKE THAT BACK ABOUT THE THERMOSES YOU TAKE IT BACK RIGHT NOW.

For this, you deserve a free monogrammed thermos. And believe you me, I don't give those out to just anyone. (Unless they save bread.)