Whoa!

Oh my god, Cocorosie. Like a nostalgia bolt from the blue - thanks for the rabbit-hole reminder.

OMG you poor woman with the terrible MIL. My two cents is you keep calling her a racist and if she doesn’t like it she can change her behaviour and you won’t need to call her that anymore! She obviously considers ‘bigot’ to be a lesser charge and she hasn’t earned that. Also I 100000% agree that calling her out is a…

happens to me all the time! :)

That’s... exactly what I said!

*Please note I did not vote for Trump, I’m Canadian and also would rather eat a bag of live rats.

But if I don’t call myself a feminist, how will everyone think I didn’t vote for Trump EVEN THOUGH I DID???*

Some kind of baked pasta or casserole! I am so curious about what would happen!

VHS! GOD!

I feel like walking into your jury interview or whatever it’s called and seeing that turd would be a gift from the gods, if only you could play dumb for long enough to get onto the jury and then nail him to the wall!

It makes extra sense to tear them down given that we’ll need room for all the statues of the heroes from next year’s civil war... (she said half jokingly, and still very glad these were removed!)

holy fucking shit, these comments. This is horrible.

I remember going to a prototypical bachelorette party in my early 20s and feeling as superior, self conscious and above it all as the writer here describes. But since then I’ve come to realise that this is the kind of thing the bride (and more often than not, the other participants too!) recalls with rose-tinted…

This guy looks so much like the villain from an ‘80s movie it’s almost funny! ...almost.

This recipe is foolproof: http://www.seriouseats.com/2010/02/how-to-make-fresh-ricotta-fast-easy-homemade-cheese-the-food-lab.html

I’m 32 and a few years ago while moving I opted to donate my whole CD library because I never listen to them anymore for obvious reasons. And while I have enjoyed not lugging them around from move to move in the intervening years, I do sometimes miss the physical reminder of an album I liked. Like, I remember when I…

Right? When I read that I was like, ‘but....’

Well, the incident in question happened in Halifax so I’d say there is a long way to go across the country.

Thank you for sharing this with the world. I recently found a bunch of my jr. high-era poetry and at one point I referred to myself in a poem as an ‘iron eggshell’. Even just typing that out made me want to cringe myself into oblivion.

I’m lucky to live in a very insulated bubble of educated and diverse people so I don’t run into it much in my personal life thankfully. Which makes it all the more jarring when I hear it at work or just out in the world. :(