For a moment I thought Kelly had chosen that adorable Boston as her new cohost, and I was super excited.

I don’t watch anything on HGTV, since I have neither an H nor a G (I have an apartment and a concrete walkway). But they were fairly charming when they were guests on Dinner at Tiffani’s. They seemed to really enjoy the family style spaghetti and meatballs Tiffani made them, and they interacted nicely with perennial…

Some lines should just die out, old sport.

Between keeping this relationship under wraps and her initial escape, Katie Holmes is like the master of sneaking around undetected. She could teach courses at the CIA.

I thought I was done reading comments and started scrolling back up to the top, then I processed yours, laughed out loud, and scrolled back down just to star it.

I have an imaginary internal narrative where Charlotte and Charles are conspiring to off William and George the minute the Queen Elizabeth dies. (William to shut people up about Charles abdicating in favor of him, and George because that’s the price Charlotte demands for her cooperation)

Ok I’ve fucking tried to edit this three times and it keeps kicking me over to a story about Janet Jackson’s divorce when I hit publish. W&K’s bridesmaids ranged in age from THREE to ten. Not seven.

Some do, some have a maid of honour as the only adult female attendant. To go to William and Kate again as an example, Pippa was the maid of honour; the bridesmaids ranged in age from 3-10. William had Harry as best man, and there don’t seem to have been any ushers. The male child attendants are pages, not ring…

Charlotte is the most likely candidate—she’ll have just turned two, and so even making her a flower girl would’ve been an aggressive move.

Bridesmaids at dead posh traditional British weddings are children. They basically ARE flower girls. EG, here are the Cambridges with the bridesmaids and pages at their wedding:

The V&A has an everything fixation. They are the museum equivalent of your hoarder auntie. I love them.

The good news is that once you’ve gone to check out the Fawcett statue in Parliament Square, you can pop round to the V&A and check out this one by Patrick McDowell. Or this one by an unknown German artist. Or this one. Or this one. Or this one.  This one looks like she’s doing her monthly breast exam. This Danish…

I’m side-eyeing the #rootedinOakland thing, not because of its shadiness but because the Athletics played in Philadelphia for 50+ years, and then in Kansas City for 10 or so before moving to Oakland in ‘68. So are they really rooted there?

This is basically evergreen content.

You would think he’d jump at this, since it would offer him the chance to cast his and Jada’s kids (probably as his and Jada’s kids), which he LOOOOOVES to do.

I love the idea that I could ever, even in my 20s, have been jacked enough to throw a lawn mower. I may actually have been mad enough by senior year when I was listening to the fifth woman mournfully wailing “snooooow can waaaaait <hic, sob>“

One of them was sheer fucking evil, so giggle away at her. The others I retain a residual fondness for so HOW DARE YOU... no just kidding. Laugh at them, please.

I’m sure it’s great when it’s your break up, but when you’re subjected to it repeatedly for other peoples’....

Every female roommate I had in college listened to Tori Amos on a loop when she went through a breakup or a rough patch with a guy. For the last twenty years, I have been unable to hear “Winter” without wanting to throw a lawn chair through a window.

“It’s like we’re back in grade school and we’re callin’ each other names to get a better piece of candy.”