Babycat is one of his nicknames — he prefers it to his “real” name, George. But he is also known as Joe, JoJo, Hey-there-Georgie-Cat, Foo, and Inspector Bossyboots, to name but a few. Many aliases for many moods.

I only wish I had a surface large enough and out of the way of cats on which to assemble such a puzzle. (I have given over an entire kitchen table as a feeding surface for His Serene Highness, Babycat Crumpett.) Urban living and all that.

I’m laughing because as a librarian, this does not shock me.

The toaster one reminds me of the time one of the librarians smelled food and tracked it down to a woman who was sitting at a reading desk with a crock pot plugged in underneath it, cooking chicken stew.

That couple was clearly April Ludgate and Andy Dwyer.

I’m pretty sure Douche Dad ran into two of the Guardians of the Galaxy.

You are officially my grandma. “Just cut the mold off, it’s fine! That fruit is only a little bit rotten! I’ve only used that teabag three times; it’s still good!”

Hey, by the time I’m 70, I’ll probably be okay with someone who will color my roots, keep me supplied with moscato, and buy me blueberry muffins on Saturday mornings. I mean, we all have priorities!

You sound cool. Keep looking and good luck.

My requirements/deal breakers changed as I aged. In my teens, I just wanted a good kisser who had a car, could manage to obtain Boone’s Farm, and was at least a top placer in local surfing competitions. In my 20s, I wanted a guy with a decent job, who worked out and understood my workout schedule, who had a big dick…

Shit guys, just scoop the tar out. 95% of that honey is still good!

Effectively it means less resources / money to devote to raising the offspring.

My story I had almost forgotten about until I saw this thread.

I always wanted to slip up to the server and mutter “Look, I get the legal seafood’s good enough for the chumps. But come on, pally, whachoo got in the back? Sea serpent? Mermaid? I got the cash.”

“Kurt Russell” was the name of Disney’s beloved boyhood sled.

It was because he couldn’t stand not to be an asshole. He did something really nice but that is so contrary to his true nature he had to make up for it with a shitty comment, maybe because he wouldn’t be able to get his dick hard enough for whomever he fucked later that night.

Consider his position in life. She flustered him... she ‘got’ him. “Get” Trump, and he likely recognizes it as talent, even if it’s just a gut call.

Salman Rushdie, I’m So Sorry sounds like the name of Fall Out Boy’s next number one song.

Donald Trump will flirt with the waitress. Every single time. He’s usually pretty good at getting the waitress to flirt back.

Oh man, more of these BCO installments please. I love celebrity gossip in all forms, and I’m not shy about it!