I think at this point it’s mostly schadenfreude.
I think at this point it’s mostly schadenfreude.
This is not to hate on people hiring florists/having flowers at their weddings. Flowers are gorgeous! I love flowers. They are symbolic and can be sentimental, and some locations need them, so it doesn’t look like you’re getting married in a prison.
I usually have no interest in sports and it’s balls, but i’m going to have to start watching her. She is god-damn amazing.
Ya, I was trying to find some healthy alternatives for Halloween candy and picked up a package of these, looked at what was in them, and then went and bought mini-chocolate bars. At least when you eat chocolate you know your eating crap.
The hat in my picture actually says “Wizzard” on it if you could blow up the image big enough.
The Reuben one reminded me of a story Terry Pratchett told. He said that one jet-lagged evening he accidently asked for Three Mile Island dressing for his salad. The waitress didn’t say a word, just brought him Thousand Island dressing and a bottle of hot sauce.
you don’t get to make decisions like this for a dead person
“I’m just being me.”
Kim Davis has only been back at work for a week, but she’s found a way to keep her spotlight. Not only has she had…
Your MIL sounds kind of awesome.
I’m glad I’m not the only one who teared up.
pretend i am looking you in the eyes with both hands on your shoulders but we are a respectful but serious arm’s distance apart*
same - knowing how to scan for pleibs/”foodies”/and dickholes is key. I immediately stop reading at: “the server could have smiled”
STOP USING THAT ADORABLE BABY TO PEDDLE YOUR CANDY CORN LIES
What did your childhood do to your tastebuds and do you want to talk about it? This is a safe place. You don’t have to live this way.
you are a fool, woman. candy corn is delicious carnauba wax goodness. i’ll concede that those candy corn spawn are abominations. why mess with candy corn perfection? (can’t stop saying candy corn. candyfuckingcrackcorn.) if, like me, you are from the 1960s and 70s, you enjoyed candy corn’s heyday. before razor blades…
You can’t fool me, this is goat milk soap from some twee boutique in a resort town.