Me. I just can't be bothered. Of course, I am possibly the last woman on earth to still feel that a slip is a necessary undergarment....

I don't insist that I won't ever be friends with someone who uses a slur "in accident" or without thinking (or without ever having realized it was a slur). Everybody fucks up. I fuck up a lot. But I'm not going to be friends with someone who doesn't think that's fucking up. Big difference between, "Oh, shit, I can't…

It does not matter that they don't "intend them to mean anything bad." We are not Humpty Dumpty, and we can't just decide words mean something other than they do. (Yes, the meaning of words changes over time, but nobody gets to just decide that they're using their own special meaning.) Words have meanings, and they…

A person whose "go-to" word when they get angry is a racial slur has a habit of using racial slurs, Tyler. And no, derogatory words aren't actually in my go-to. Unless you count "shitweasel" as being derogatory toward weasels.

No, we're saying we can make it to adulthood without ever developing the habit of using racial slurs.

I had three different ob/gyns swear I did not have endometriosis. (In their defense, I did have really ghastly PCOS-related endometrial hyperplasia, and I suppose they thought that my Evil Death-Cramps could be adequately explained by the fact that I was bleeding profusely 24/7/365. Well, the ones who didn't think I…

I'd rather those folks go over to vaping too—for one reason, it's easier on MY lungs if they do. And yes, nicotine is a tough addiction to quit. Anything that can reduce the harm being done to people who aren't fortunate enough to be able to kick that habit is a good thing.

Maybe. By the late 80s I was buying my own clothes and didn't go to Sears. But in the mid70s to early 80s, Sears had Huskies for boys and Pretty Plus for girls.

We use fleece blankets from the dollar store. We also find that if we're very good about remembering their vitamin C supplements, there's less pee everywhere, so that's good.

Oh, yes, they do like their schedule. Feeding the guinea pigs is one of MrsPye's jobs. She started getting home from work an hour or so later than usual, and the guinea pigs let me know about ALL their feelings on that matter. (So I usually go ahead and feed them, because, well, schedule. It's not their fault MrsPye…

Yeah, but—from what I remember from shopping with my mother—Lane Bryant was less awful than a lot of places. Until I was in my teens, she shopped at Lane Bryant, Added Dimensions, and Catherine's Stout Shop (which may have been Shoppe?)—which is now unsurprisingly just "Catherine's"—and they were all pretty horrible.

Bras were a pretty new thing in the 1920s.

At Sears (which is where my mom bought all my clothes in the 70s) only the boys were Huskies. The girls were "Pretty Plus."

Since when is the nanny a complete stranger? Unless you mean that they hired a brand-new nanny for that flight.

Unless "something bad happen [sic]"? You mean because someone didn't pay attention to what they were buying, and then did not return the book (I've returned e-books to Amazon; it's not that hard)? That is not her problem, and your sense of morals/ethics is completely bizarre.

She did earn the money through hard work. She wrote the book. It is not in any way her fault that people didn't pay attention to what she was buying; she didn't intentionally mislead them or try to trick them into buying the wrong book. It is, in fact, her money.

People bought her book. They're her royalties. She did try to get Amazon to clear things up so people wouldn't do that, but it's not her fault these people bought the wrong book. (Seriously, it's not like it was by Stephanie Kingston, or something; they could have told if they were paying attention.)

I read a lot of Danielle Steel as a teen, and at least back then, they really weren't porn. Some of the great big fat historical romance novels were pretty smutty (and rapey, because this was the 80s), but Danielle Steel wasn't.

I don't really get it either, but my father has problems with a lot of words, even when coached. He can hear the difference if I pronounce them for him, but he can't make his mouth produce the right sounds. We even tried this:

My dad does "chipoletay," too; his justification is that someone he watches on the Food Network says it that way. (Dad, someone on the Food Network thinks "Yum-o" is a word. Your argument is invalid.) Also, he likes Tex-Mex food, specifically fajitas. Despite having me coach him repeatedly, the closest he can get to…