You had me at "vulvadoodles", Uber...you had me at "vulvadoodles."

I HAVE NO IDEA. HOLD ME.

It's not really that important. Just let it go.

I love this story.

It's an ideal friendship, people consistently talk down to both kids and the elderly, it makes sense that they'd be like "fuck it, let's hang out together and promise to not ask one another incessantly about whether we have to go the bathroom."

You old as fuck. For this club, you know, not for the earth.

Is this better?

I mean I'm pretty sure love is just tolerating another creature's farts, forever.

...did anyone else read that at first as "Alyssa Milano..."?

Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Binge read once a year. Every year. Never forget your towel.

It's nice outside. Who wants to go play Calvinball?

All hail the glow cloud.

But does he have his own radio show set in a mysterious desert town?

He's in good hands now; he's with the Lard. Our savior, Greasus.

I win.

Ooooooh, you fancy.

So they won't like my Steampunk Killer Mermaid Time Travellers who kills Snow White and the Seven Zombies to avenge their dad's death and then they find out it was Earth All A Long because they hated every Ape they saw from Chimpan-A to Chimpan-Zee Story?

I loathe One Million Moms. They need to stick to laundering their menstrual-scented Anne Taylor stretch pants and reading their clandestine copies of Fifty Shades of Grey while the smart people talk about smart people things.

especially when her friend in the picture is clearly wearing a sign that says, "Die, Tumor, Die"?