The dumbest possible way to date myself: I totally always associate this song with Candice Bergen, as Murphy Brown, holding her baby for the first time.

I will say that, when I was living long-term in countries with unfamiliar food cultures, eating American garbage food was a way to deal with homesickness. I once had a friend ask if I wanted to go in on a pizza from Pizza Hut; I gladly gave her the money and told her to order whatever. I literally cried when we got it…

A veteran’s guide to Hogmanay in Edinburgh:

I keep thinking of Mitchell & Webb dressed as SS officers and the moment Mitchell realizes that wearing skulls as part of their uniforms might mean that they’re the baddies.

The Murder Machine, all of seven pounds, who was first declawed and then exiled by her former owners because she wouldn’t stop attacking every other animal she lived with. When she couldn’t claw them, she’d just punch them in the face. This is her using a desk lamp as her personal warming booth. She is my snuggle…

Hah. I have used my crotch as leverage for snow shoveling a million times, and occasionally run it straight into a snow shovel handle while sprinting my way along a cracked driveway. Flinched, kept on shoveling.

I will be one of the people who needs to be put down for the good of what remains of society, because I will immediately lose my shit and begin slaughtering my way through everyone I encounter. Your dog? I will eat your dog. Your toddler? I will absolutely eat your toddler.

Yes. This makes literally no goddamned sense.

I SAY WE SET UP A GIANT FLOOR TROUGH IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SCHOOL HALLWAY THAT EVERYONE SQUATS OVER!!!!

“Every filthy faggot and worthless dyke deserves a father and a mother to tell them that they make Christ vomit and they will burn in hell forever.”

Your fucking insurance probably doesn’t fucking cover it, because they’re all, “You’re already a filthy whore by your age, so you’re all virused up by now anyway.”

I legit wonder if he killed Mommy.

It’s actually not all bad. BEAR WITH ME, HERE.

First thought. That tree tackle is a thing of beauty.

While she seems like a lovely, gifted person, I will never not be confused by the time I saw her use her acrylic nails as musical instruments on Jay Leno. I can’t find a good clip online, unfortunately, but it was so weird that even Leno was all, “Are you playing . . . your hands?”

I grew up with Christmas traditions that, in retrospect, were bizarre - did anyone else wear an actual headdress of flaming candles because the youngest girl roleplayed as Santa Lucia? And I still think the Elf on the Shelf thing is really, really weird.

My mother would not allow me to own a Barbie. (Feministy reasons.) All of the terrible hair things I did to toys were, as a result, done to animals. I dyed Care Bear hair green with toothpaste and gave them buzz cuts.

C’mon, man. He’s evil. I mean, I laughed when he tore that woman apart because he needed to open a door, because it was so over-the-top evil.

A friend of mine used to be pro-life until his wife started miscarrying at six months. She was given all the options, though told that labor, a C-section, and an abortion would likely all have the same outcome for her dying fetus. She opted for an abortion - even though it wasn’t medically necessary - and my friend…

Infinitely less awkward than the game of Cards Against Humanity I ended up playing after this past Thanksgiving, during which “seppuku” and “bukkake” both had to be defined.