I just need an explanation for Marianne’s apartment. Who is bankrolling her? Did I miss what she does for a living? My impression is that you basically make $0/show to perform Streetcar in a gym right before high school basketball practice.

Hate-watch is exactly what my husband and I did. After every episode, my husband looked at me and said, “I’m not sure if I like this show,” and then before we knew it, we had finished it.

“With this in mind, Netflix’s most recent offering, the Nick Stoller-directed Friends With Money, is a strong contender for hate-watch of the summer.”

My parents’ IQs are respectively, gifted and genius, and I still learned about washing your hands after using the bathroom from a hygiene lesson in elementary school. (And I learned you’re not supposed to let the taps run while brushing your teeth from The Cosby Show, which is funny, because I believe Fat Albert was…

“the judge says he would have preferred to make it higher if it were allowed.”

The tacky I remember, and now that you show me the picture, I can totally picture the see-through jacket. I instinctively know the man wearing that has frosted tips, in his heart at least, if not on his head.

I’m literally writing this in my notebook, for use at my future birthday party, retirement party, or funeral.

I definitely remember fabrics being cheap as hell. I’m notquite envisioning the see through plastic jackets, but I did find this idiocy from 2017 while searching: http://www.cosmopolitan.com/style-beauty/fashion/a9556600/topshop-see-through-plastic-jeans/

Oh, absolutely. I wouldn’t even know where to go to get a wig, but I have always wanted one. I want red hair exactly when I want red hair, and Id don’t want to have to dye it, and then have the color fade with the first wash anyway. Plus, the sun fades my brown hair at the ends, and I really prefer it to be the…

“by 2020 the kids will be running around in light wash denim mini skirts and see through plastic jackets”

Honestly, that look sounds amazing, other than the eyebrows going off in odd lines.

I’m so done with beachy waves that I’ve moved on to full-on high-maintenance waves of the Ann-Margret variety, and I’m quite happy with the result. The fact that I was a teen in the 90s leaves me with just about zero nostalgia for it, other than Doc Martens, which I never stopped liking.

I’m sorry, but a beach where there have been increased sightings of great whites all summer is the perfect location to watch Jaws. Plus bike valet and food trucks.

Yeah, I had a recruiter contact me about working for a university in Saudia Arabia. I was like, “I’m a woman...so...no....”

I just need to comment on that old Gawker piece about the worst 10 people on the subway: it’s the people who fondle, grope, or press their boners into you. Also, that one guy who, on a nearly empty late night train, decided to force himself between me and the pole, by hitting my wrist with his trumpet case. That guy…

Ugh, I felt gross enough drinking a single serving bottle of milk on my lunch the other day. I love milk, but I am apparently the only person in the world who keeps my fridge cold enough for it to taste good. (I’m pregnant, and I was desperate for a non-water, non-sweet beverage, and the convenience store had no V8.)

I will add to that Clif bars if you must have solid food. Not the crunchy kind you choke to death on, but the kind that generally holds its shape and will not crumble.

I thought she was married to Cotton Weary, the man who was erroneously sent to prison for the murder of Maureen Prescott?

Also a librarian who would read it.

“She reached back and twisted the Fusilier in her ass.”