My favorite from Philly which had NO media coverage.

I’m left wondering if Patrick Stewart was out there somewhere with a “You shall not pass!” sign?

Going into today, this quote has been on my mind:

Ok this got longer than I expected, and took over an hour but here we go.

These fucks don’t even try and hide their giant ‘fuck you’ appointments anymore. This is becoming a shiny new dictatorship right before our eyes.

In addition, federal resources should be deployed expeditiously to protect people and property in the area of violent protests to help support state and local law enforcement efforts.

This probably couldn’t be much of a bigger FUCK YOU to Native people short of involving Howitzers.

I swear, it’s like Trump is picking his administration officials based on their irony scores.

We generally have a pretty fucked up idea of what “forgiveness” means. For example, when the Catholic Church says “Abuse victims need to forgive our priests”, what they’re saying is, “Abuse victims need to drop their lawsuits against the church”.

Dear HRC: I keep thinking about that scene in The Abyss. You know the one where Ed Harris brings Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio back to life and, between bouts of CPR, he yells, “Goddammit, you bitch! You never backed away from anything in your life! Now fight!”? And she comes roaring back to life?

Good. This is how we will keep America sane.

Spent most of this morning alternating between numb shock and crying so hard I started dry heaving. Many in my office were openly weeping as well. I feel like the country I love so much has rejected me and everything I stand for. Contemplated moving away. Threw myself into my work, and avoided all news media the same…

I would too. Like really and truly I would. The older I become, the more I ‘get’ non-traditional relationships.

I would have rather to have a gay husband who were my best friend and eat all the stuff I cook without complaining that my shitty ex-husband from real life.

I use fingers, mostly because poor.

She has a house on a major swath of Long Island, has a hottie Ivy League business professor dude for a hubby who snarfs down everything she makes, a kitchen the size of Texas, her own business empire based on pretty pictures in hardcovers of elegant recipes and her own TV show narrated in her own well-modulated voice,…

I love that you used “how fabulous is that?”

There is a lightness—something almost resembling naiveté—to Garten’s elitism that separates her from other rich, white, New England-based chefs like, oh, Martha Stewart—who has a heavier, more condescending gaze.