ugh someone help me get this huge stupid grin off my face before my co-workers think I care about things.

Do they mean “Kenyan” as in “Swahili”? Because according to good old (FUCKING FREE, EASY TO FIND) Google Translate, black power = nguvu nyeusi.

I basically babbled. Something along the lines of, “I’m so glad he has such an open minded and loving family, but I’m not a sex worker and I really only know him from the amazing stories my new coworkers tell me. I’m so sorry for your loss, and I’m sure I would’ve loved him but maybe not that way but maybe that way…

So a week after I started this job, a guy who no longer worked at the publication I worked for died in a car accident. I never met him, and he was a copy editor so it wasn’t like I was familiar in any way with him through what he wrote.
But nevertheless, the EOC said everyone needed to go. So I went. And somehow the…

If by “covering” you mean “looking at it through a bottle of wine as I lie beneath the coffee table” sure

I bet Birb is totally in the AM hack. But he registered as Squirrel, which was v. cunning.

Fairies like cream!

I will not apologize for simply living my life.

And my job being married is to get my husband and my [seven] kids to heaven with me.

Pinkham’s law.

After being married to someone who I had to constantly prop up and who seemed to look for every excuse to put effort into being miserable, I have to say I just don’t have the patience for it anymore.

My husband has no real attachment to his last name. His father was adopted, didn’t get along with his adoptive father, and changed his last name as an adult. My husband is the one who wanted our son to have my last name, since mine is more interesting and his is made up. He picked our son’s first and middle names to…

People don’t do that anymore? I need spme time to think.

Okay, here is my thing with burns....or snappy come backs, which they were once called. I cry. I cry when frustrated. I hate it. I’m quite sassy unless pissed off, then I cry. Ugh. Nobody knows how much I just burned in my head them, cause I am crying.

Jesus Christ, what a bunch of butts. I don’t have kids and I don’t want kids and I don’t really like kids but I do my best to nod along supportively when people talk about their kids or show me pictures or whatever because that is basic human courtesy and also I guess it’s really nice that people love their kids? It’s…

I feel like this is misleading - many of the articles linked here (and admittedly, I did not read them all maybe half) don’t actually point to problems - they just discuss some of the issues she *might* face or conjecture about past problems potentially rearing their heads. Yet, this article and the headline seem to…

More fun with Mormony license plate holders:

Utah: STORY CHECKS OUT.

Pinkham, I want to like you, and most days I do. However, it seems like you've got this mentality where you lump everything in the USA that's not within 50 miles of the ocean as "flyover country" full of Jesus-freak troglodytes who wouldn't know great food if it were force-fed to them.

Yes, exactly. I don't know what the hell deep dish is, but it is not pizza. The best pizza is in New Haven, and if you disagree you are wrong and should feel bad.