Snowflake, cuck, libtard, safe space, beta, feminazi, lesbian (srsly), safety spin, whiner, crybaby...

MisterDisco is German, Austrian, English, and Scottish. He can’t drink a glass of milk without paying for it later to save his life. He loves milk (*shudder*) but oh man, does he pay for drinking it. That’s about as WHITE as it gets, so the conflation of milk = Aryan is pretty stupid.

I am currently re-reading this book when the onslaught of Internet bullshit gets to be much, and I can’t figure out which one is more depressing tbh.

I bought a pair of Levis jeans on ebay because all told they were $7.00...that someone had altered from bootcut to straight legs and I think I have died and gone to heaven. And now I’m cursing because the best of all jean styles in Levis happens to be boot cut and I’ll have to buy 32" ones and have them tailored to…

If I’m wearing a blouse, I usually don’t want to have to wear a camisole under it. Most shirts these days require just that. In winter, under a thin long sleeved shirt, sure. In summer time, with temps soaring in the 90s and humidity to match? Fuck that noise.

OMG can I contract with you the next time I get on the RealReal and try to convince myself that the dress I’m eyeballing that’s $250 will totally have tailoring to match? /still kicking self over last purchase

Well, girls lie about rape all the time. I know because fucking internet trolls tell me so, ad nauseam. /nods/

What’s with these old fucks thinking they’re the be-all and end-all when it comes to knowing everything about sexuality? The fucking mind boggles.

You can never be down, sad, angry, or annoyed if you are handicapped. You must serve as a beacon of light to those who are wholly able-bodied. Otherwise you’re just a selfish fuck, wallowing in misery.

The Mister is, per the great states of California and Idaho, 35% disabled, which warrants his Idaho handicap placard. He’s had a couple of back surgeries and is spry on some days, not so spry on others. I have never been tested but have very visible scars on the back of my neck from my own spinal surgeries. You can…

I had the same thing happen; Numbah One Son was expressing issues about having trouble seeing. I blew it off as teenage vagaries, but he bitched enough that I finally took him in.

Gin Blossoms...

Why is it that this administration is consistently dressed in shitty, ill-fitting, unflattering clothing? And I’m not sparing the god damn women either. Do they ALL dress in the dark with sycophant tailors who are afraid to utter the words, ‘I think we might need to bring this in, or shape this line a little closer…

OMFG I hate it when my foundation oxidizes.

I subscribed to Amazon’s Unlimited Kindle service thing just so I could read this book in Kindle format. I kind of wish I hadn’t. I’m two chapters in and it is starting to bear such a resemblance to real life events...

I love Neuromancer so much that my license plate reads 3Jane. :)

Before the ACA, my BC (which was Nordette) cost me $30 a month copay, every single month. Don’t forget that’s on TOP of the insurance premiums we paid, which back then were about $500 a month.

Why lie, when you can say the absolute truth of whatever shitty thing you’re saying and your fucking moron supporters will still cheer and think it’s to their benefit?

MisterDisco was absolutely astounded that Trump came right out, balls front, and stated that he was doing this because banks wouldn’t lend to his friends. As if that was the noble, upright reason in the world to do away with Dodd-Frank.

Tree-fiddy and a used condom, I’m guessing.