homegirl is fucking lucky as shit and also has the lightest period on god’s green earth bc if that was me please believe they would have blurred out my entire lower half and all 26 miles behind me that were literred w huge globs of my uterine lining.

I was working at a relatively new restaurant in Portland, Oregon. We specialized in sandwiches made with fancy, local, organic ingredients.

So basically someone DIDN’T hurt anyone with a shoe bomb fourteen years ago and now we have to take off our shoes at the airport but literally tens of thousands of men, women, and children (including first graders in their school - a pile of bullet-riddled six-year-olds who still believed in Santa Claus) have been…

...where it would’ve been a mass shooting instead.

Bless my soul have I got a story!

*coughs out spiderwebs* found it in the cellar

My parents have a similar game called Klassenkampf (class struggle) where you play in teams as capitalists or working class. One option of ending the game is causing a nuclear war. Nobody wins, but at least you don’t lose against the others. I think it’s also from the 70’s.

The movie theater story reminded me of one of my own. One time getting popcorn at a local multiplex, the (obviously new) teenage girl behind the counter asked me “Would you like a golden shower with that?” causing me to pause significantly before confirming that I would like some butter-like topping. While she was…

In the peaceful darkness of my Port-a-Potty, I rolled my eyes so hard that I tipped my careful squat off-balance and unfortunately kicked my $10 beer.

I was trying to explain to my English husband about what Friendly’s was- basically a place with rocking grilled cheese sandwiches and ALL THE ICE CREAM YOU COULD EVER WANT in a variety of forms. LOVE Friendly’s.

Huh, you don’t usually see KY preventing gay couples from coming together.

So...what, they’re doing their impressions of their favourite confederate soldiers?

I’ve liked Donna Karen ever since I bought one of her shirts at Marshalls. Inside the shirt, attached to the price tag, was a second tag with the phone number for a domestic crisis hotline.

I flew Air France before Delta got its filthy paws on it. I was served a lunch of baguette and camembert and fresh fruit and sparkling water, and a breakfast of croissant and a very yummy egg dish with fabulous coffee. Both meals were followed by a steamed towel which smelled of almonds. The FA fluffed my pillow.

Pretty horrified that any adult woman raising a baby girl thinks vaginas make something “dirty.” Did she try to get her money back from her husband too?

Does this motherfucker not understand that this is what WE ARE EXPECTED TO DO BY EVERY CUSTOMER? Every time you complain about us taking away your dirty dishes, we get complained at 500 times more for not removing fucking garbage. You OCD weirdshits.

OK. I’ll bite.