Bet he’s ashamed to be a member of “The Party of Lincoln”, as so many Republicans insist they are.

My husband and I once caught a ride with a taxi driver who:

I’m so sorry.

Sow the wind, reap the whirlwind. I have a hard time feeling sorry for people who voted to blow things up and got hit by the shrapnel.

And now they’re going after H1-B visas. The mind boggles.

“Chaste soup goon” — that’s not leaving my head any time soon. Thanks?

He looks like a mean potato.

That’s true of everything you give a kid. I think I’ve bought 4 pairs of mittens this winter alone.

I thought that was his second move, after she turned him down?

After a certain point, all of the baby sleep advice is so much bullshit. To paraphrase, “You can put your child to bed in a dark quiet room with a white noise machine and a security blanket, but you can’t make them not wake up at 5:30 a.m. and demand to watch ‘Fireman Sam’”.

... Did they have to be photographed in the exact same pose, complete with gaudy ring? Or that an eerie coincidence?

And people ask me why I left. God forbid Kentucky move into the 20th century.

The hydrogen peroxide/baking soda trick works for me every time. I’ve salvaged several nice white dress shirts multiple times that way.

This was a key plotline in “Saved”. Jena Malone’s tries to “save” her gay boyfriend by sleeping with him. She gets knocked up, and he gets sent to conversion camp, where he gets a boyfriend. It also features Mandy Moore throwing a Bible while shrieking “I am FILLED with Christ’s love!”

You can apparently get sheep-safe spray paint:

In one of the recent Windsor Family pictures, one of the great-grandbabies — I think Zara’s daughter — is about this age and is pictured holding the Queen’s handbag. Why? Because she insisted on it, and the Queen agreed. She knows you’ve got to pick your battles at this age.

My mostly-female office decided that going on strike would just leave us with more work to do the next day. So we had “An Hour Without a Woman” this morning and wrote postcards to our representatives.

Right? What sort of world are we in that Richard Nixon suddenly looks sane and restrained?!?

Read it and weep like I did:

I mean, I don’t even know at this point. It’s like comparing two different dog turds -- which is more disgusting? How do you even choose?