Nope! Fuck ‘em all.

This would disenfranchise both me and my mother (immigrant parents/grandparents) and my father (immigrant grandmother). Ann Coulter can go fuck herself.

Posted to a friend’s FB feed:

I was the only D.A.R.E. representative at my school who had not, in fact, done drugs. The highlight of that experience was when a small child asked my fellow representative and high school student about the scourge of teen pregnancy, not knowing that said representative had already fathered at least one child.

Umm, no. I am not spending $17 for fancy shoelaces.

The letter was signed by her fellow law professors. They’re definitely not lining up behind her.

Twenty-three faculty -- including a dear friend of mine from college -- have signed a letter demanding her resignation:

You missed the best, closing line from her letter! “I will work in this town again, but I will not work with you.” *Mic drop*

I know, right? My mom and my mother-in-law both wince when he runs into something, and I’m left wondering how they forgot that toddlers approach the world with the gusto of wrecking balls.

He seems perfectly fine this morning, thank goodness. I’m not sure we even need to go to the dentist.

Just sitting here, rocking my cranky son, who smacked the lower half of his face on a hardwood floor this pm while rough housing with his dad. Per his pediatrician, he’s on a soft diet for the next 48 hours, which should make Halloween fun. I’m also really hoping this doesn’t turn into a trip to the pediatric…

Jesus H. Christ, if he loses this election for Hillary, I hope someone fixes him like the dog that he is. Without anesthesia.

Not a ghost story, per se, but a week or so ago, my husband was out of town for work, leaving me home alone with our two-year-old son and dog. That night we called my husband while we ate dinner, and I put him on speakerphone so that my son and I could both hear him. I playfully asked my son, “Where’s Dada?” My son…

The last time I had sangria, I decided that it was the perfect time to discuss with my husband when we were having children. At length. Did I mention this was during his friend’s birthday party?

Lest anyone doubt the veracity of Duckworth’s D.A.R. membership, they don’t let just anyone join. You have to verify a) that your supposed Revolutionary War relative actually fought in the Revolutionary War, and b) exactly how you’re related to that relative, including proof of marriage for each generation between you…

Bless Democratic grandmas. When I started dating my husband, his grandmother wasn’t at all impressed by my educational credentials, but was thrilled that I was a Democrat.

My favorite quote from that article: “‘Unfortunately, I’m not a man of vigilante violence,’ said Richard Sabonjohn, 48, of Naples, Fla.” UNFORTUNATELY?!?!?

Umm, not one that’s just eaten a hamburger. Wash your appendages, lady-parts robot!

*stares at picture* He appears to have eyes, and they appear to be functioning. I don’t get it.

My hands are ALSO bigger than Trump’s hands! By, like, a lot.