I was sad at the thought that some reality show schmuck had attempted murder in one of my favorite countries. I was very happy to see he shot someone in California instead. (No insult intended to California; I just prefer Costa Rica.)

For whatever reason I clicked on the article about the RHOC article; the guy shot someone in Costa Mesa, CA, not Costa Rica.

Seriously, was there some sort of contest to see how many horrible, tone-deaf, inexcusable things can be written about this excrable human being? Write a fawning letter, win a chance at internet infamy? Because that’s the only way I can explain this.

The POS apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, indeed.

All I ever remember about Monticello is what I read in one of Bill Bryson’s books: that Jefferson’s ink would freeze in his inkpot. Beautiful the original may be, but it’s apparently very poorly insulated.

Yeah... Barring actual evidence of blackmail - and not some unknown comedian’s say-so - I’m still Team Heard.

Follow the City of Boston Archaeologist on Facebook! He posts regular updates about digs they’re doing around the city. Boston is one of only a few cities with an in-house archaeologist:

If SNL weren’t on hiatus, I’d know what Cecily Strong would be doing this weekend.

As a yellow dog Democrat, I’m obviously going to vote for her in November, but damn, stuff like this drives me nuts. It’s such a self-inflicted wound.

I found this link through the NYT story — just, wow. There are so many missing and murdered women.

I’m sure people thought I was cold-hearted when I didn’t cry at my father’s funeral. Of course, I had been crying basically non-stop for the three days prior. I simply didn’t have any tears left by the time the funeral rolled around. I don’t think I could have cried at that point if I’d stuck my face into a bowl of…

Jesus. I will always remember my mom yelling at me when I referred to Japanese beetles that way. I was 8 or 9 and had no idea it was a slur. It was my first lesson in how words have power. Too bad no one ever thought to teach that to Peter King.

The best thing about Winston is his inability to pull off a proportional prank. It’s either “tee-hee, I moved all your stuff an eighth of an inch to the left” or “ha ha, I set your house on fire!” AND NOTHING IN BETWEEN.

Actually, she’s pretty awesome, or at least an improvement over her predecessor, Larry Summers:

Am I the only one who’s sitting here repeating “amp camp” to herself? Amp camp, amp camp, amp camp. It’s positively hypnotic.

Because having to stay home between 5 p.m. and 8 a.m. is JUST LIKE being burned at the stake.

Eighteen years ago, as a college freshman, I took a small Holocaust literature seminar. In the first session, the teacher warned us that we would be reading history and pieces of literature that described large-scale torture, starvation, and death in vivid detail, as well as pieces of philosophy that questioned the…

I love that rug! It’s very fuzzy.

What testimony could possibly “exonerate” them, other than evidence that they didn’t actually let their child die?

I got that same vest from Ikea, but I use it as a rug.