I would happily wear those bone skirt and corsets on--like-- a Tuesday.

I know people who were there when it was shot. Many scenes are the Delaware location, but several of the outdoor shots are instantly recognizable if you’re familiar with the campus. Regardless, a pretty place in fall.

Dead Poets Society was filmed at Berry College in Rome, GA in the Appalachian foothills. It’s really purdy up there in fall.

I mean, I think about setting up an iPad with a fake ballot and telling my Fox News-addled mother that’s just how we vote now, but I don’t actually DO it.

I have never been so invested in the successful outcome of a porn movie. 

Hooray for omens of future Trent plots! I can’t wait to see where his half-melted Ken-doll face pops up in the final season. 

A little light arson . . . I love it when semi-good Michael’s demon shows.

Yeah, I know, I live there. But I’m gonna bet there’s not much overlap for southern beauty pageant supporters and proponets of progression. 

And we’re so much more productive now! My dad as an attorney in the ‘80's and the nuber of people needed to research and even just fucking type and make copies of briefs boggles the mind.

Oooh, I bet the Georgia pageant leaders (a thing? I guess?) would cut a bitch. I’d love to believe they’re kicked out for a principled stand but know in my Bitter Southerner heart it’s probably because they used the regime change to reopen demands that “Dixie” be an acceptable song for the talent section.

Think this season has done a great job with the sense of place. Every time we zoom through a disco or follow a character into a place like The Pier, you instantly understand why people would go there and what they want.

I’m so glad C.C. was acting out again in this ep. I’ve been finding him more and more charming, but it just took a few beatings and self-esteem attacks to remind me he’s a monster.

I thought that, too! I was like, Who’s this Venezuelan aristocrat with his ham sandwich?!?

I’m so glad Jason was a stand up dude with drunk Tahani. It would have made me sad(der) if not.

What’s going on with semi-good Eleanor’s muted lip colors? A woman can be learning empathy AND rock a hot coral, show.

I remember doing this one summer in a spasm of boredom in the hot, wet cotton ball that is the climate of Georgia in July. Snip, snip, baby got borned from the cabbage patch by scrubs-wearing professionals. They asked for names from the crowd (it was a week day and there were only three kids.) The girl next to me…

Oh, thank god it’s “Kitty.” I thought the entire time they were calling the dead teen “Kiddie,” which was turning my stomach. 

And I’m not normally a sleeveless hooded sweatshirt type of person but watching Jason give his inspirational “no more crime, guys” speech?!? *fans self* You could cut glass on his jawline. 

I love that she walked up to the monastery wearing her “plumberess” cargo pants from version where her soulmate was a short dude. (Still my favorite Tahani torture.)

I’d been saving this as a reward for getting through the week without telling anyone to fuck off (it’s been a struggle) and then my resourceful brain gave me another few minutes of happiness as I imagined an overjoyed Michael obsessively shopping for each of his rescuer looks. He probably tried 32 different hair…