Fuck all of this, but this part specifically.

Someone on Twitter referred to him as PMILF, which I endorse wholeheartedly.

Every bloody restaurant in the Mid Atlantic is apparently required by law to serve some form of crab dip (crab and artichoke! crab and spinach! crab and spinach and artichoke! crab and a full cup of Old Bay flavored mayonnaise with shredded white cheddar cheese melted on top!) in a bread bowl with “hand cut house…

Party like it’s your birthday, Ange.

Fuckin’ Vaughn.

Mm-hm. You know she’s only still here because Vaughn likes the way she looks in that red fuckin’ polo shirt.

People were on the fucking roof of the Target with signs — PLEASE HELP. PORN.

“Customers were evacuated from the San Luis Obispo store”

This makes me forgive Renee Elise Goldsberry for how fucking terrible her sainted One Life To Live character Evangeline the magic Mary Sue of Lawyers was.

I read an interview excerpt with her somewhere where she was like “yes, of course it’s just for the first book — Beau can’t have Edyth’s creepy vampire baby, har har har.”

My podiatrist keeps offering me this surgery as a solution for my bone spur! The alternative surgery is “we remove the bone spur and FUSE the bones of your toe together where the joint used to be, and you can’t move that toe ever again and have to wear orthopedic shoes like your elderly grade school teachers did in…

“It is the world’s most valuable biscuit,” said the auctioneer, Andrew Aldridge.

I love you for knowing that. I still miss that show.

Julia Roberts “saving” the violent, shitty relationship between Emma Roberts and Evan Peters is further evidence that Julia Roberts is a terrible person.

This is fascinating. I never knew what I was missing out on by never drinking soda in the UK.

Sounds like your grandad and my grandad should get together and go bowling.

Richmond, December 24. Come for the cioppino, stay for the drunken recriminations.

THANK YOU. This is the best example of my issue with the texture — the springy factor.

I was in London last week, and noticed that a couple of places have a fish & chip set price and then an option to “upgrade” from cod to haddock for a few pounds.

See, I hate shrimp. It’s the texture. I’m weird. I know. But Christmas Eve invariably involves me pulling all the shrimps out of my soup, putting them on a saucer, and handing them to my dad, while he hands back a saucer with all of his cod chunks on it.