katspurplediscoball
KatsPurpleDiscoBall
katspurplediscoball

I was glued to the coverage of hurricane Irma partly because holy shit that storm, and partly because a house we rent in the Keys was in the cluster of Keys that got the eyewall.

WRT to Korean spas:

Actually, the initial antagonist who ends up being kind of a protagonist (trying not to spoil here) is a tough-as-fuckin-nails young woman in Ozark!

Starred because McMansionHell is my everything and I was SO glad she got a new laptop when her old one broke!

“Do these guys sit in a room and just spitball ways to screw over women? At this point it doesn’t look like they’re trying to do anything else.”

“This bill is all about punishing the sick, the disabled, the old, and especially the poor.”

Who gives a fuck? I mean, women are only slightly more than half the population in the god damn US, who gives a shit if their healthcare is impacted?

You know he’s gonna go off-script. And the media will capture every last bit of it. And I’ll read the transcript and cringe because I canNOT listen to that man and his meandering, abrupt sentence-changing, compulsively-repetitive yakyakking.

His supporters find the clusterfuck funny because it upsets normal people, i.e., you and me, since we’re librul cuck MAGA whateverflakes and that is what is most important to them, more than anything. Not clean air and water, not food that is fit to eat, not whittling down corruption in government, not equitable

“Rocket Man”

Classy, dignified, bursting with gravitas befitting the office of the President of the United States!

Not to mention a 15 year old boy shot his best friend and a few others at a high school in Spokane. /yawn/

Mine, too. And I just bought a 392 SRT, but gotDAYUM, 650hp?

Can we talk about shreddy toilet paper? Super soft toilet paper that leaves shreds and bits in every crack and crevice that you own? WHO LIKES THAT KIND OF TOILET PAPER WHYYYY

This is something I really envy about my husband. He can be on the toilet, I can be sitting on the floor, leaning against the tub, and he’ll be pooping and grunting and flushing while we carry on a conversation about our day.

Oh, my god, I WISH I COULD.

Can we have a moment of ass-kicking for the fragile, delicate flowers of femininity who have deemed the toilet ever-so-disgusting and too nasty to put their precious butts on it...

I had to explain to my 19 year old son the Russian collusion situation. (He asked, bless his heart.)

Something that makes me a bit happy is knowing that no matter how much she spends on her clothing, or name-drops said clothing brand names, or tries to set her up as better-than-thou because taxes...

A banana, eh. They’ve got their own wrappers.