As a community organizer, I start every public and private event here in Oregon with:

Not only do I want them to be best friends, I want them to solve crimes together, or show up at the homes of young people who feel like nobody likes them and throw a party. 

I actually found that humanizing, at least the sentiment.

Everyone who claims to be “Pro-Life” needs to hear what Sister Joan Chittister, a Benedictine nun has to say about the movement.

:|

The best part is that these smug little assholes are hiding behind their church to engage in this behaviour. Fuck them, fuck their parents, and fuck the institution that presents their religious fascism as Christianity.

From the Covington Catholic LinkedIn page: “Educating young men spiritually, academically, physically, and socially.”

One of the boys from this school was arrested for violently raping a girl.

He, alone, is stronger than any of them will ever, ever be, as individuals or the mob they innately seek to become.

I hope their bus crashes on the way home. Yes, I mean that. There is no fucking way these kids are going to grow up and be open-minded, caring, loving adults. They’re just going to stay virulent racists, and they look like they already come from privilege, so they’ll be rich and powerful racists. So we may as well…

I still have no idea who any of the Kardashian/Jenners are except Kim.

Road trip! Sister/Brotherhood of the travelling bunny ears. There would be southern diners, an accidental Bonnie and Clyde bank heist, Vegas and a cute dog they adopt along the way.

My story also involves knowingly walking into food poisoning. My friends dad has a small cattle operation and keeps her supplied with organic, grass fed meat. One year there was too much so she shared it with me, I stuck a big beautiful roast in my semi functioning freezer. When I took it out, I knew the freezer had…

You should eat the soap.

When I was four or so we lived in a rental house that had a bush near the back door whose leaves looked like lima beans. My sister and I ate them all. We were okay, but the poor bush died.

The thing-I-wasn’t-supposed-to-eat in this story wasn’t that bad in the grand scheme of things, but the circumstances were awkward...

Speaking as a pasty Irish woman, when I was around 2, I found a bottle of what I guess I thought was water in the house (in Ireland). So I drank it. As you do when you are a toddler. Then ran a ridiculous fever and ended up in hospital. What was in the bottle? The water they washed my great grandmother’s dead body in…

Ants, live, a whole left over sodas' worth. I was about 13. So much shrieking and vomiting ensued. 100s of ants... And it was more the sensensation of the live ants desperately trying to climb out of my through and mouth that kept my gag reflex active for hours days weeks...

I ate soap. I was not a child.

Truly my crowning achievement! Might as well go for a three-peat...