Yup. My wife and I are trying to conceive, and I have already been told that my job during the pregnancy will be telling concern trolls to STFU. (The worst will be her mother and sisters, I am sure.)

The audience for M/M romance novels is generally female (with some exceptions), just like the audience for other romance novels.

I have. Once. But she was completely batshit in so many ways that militant veganism was not even a blip on the radar. All the rest of the vegans I have known have been perfectly reasonable people.

Mine will occasionally say, “Hey, do you need me to get some of those cheap-ass leggings you like from Wal-Mart and send them to you?” but that’s about it.

That wasn’t quite it—it was actually a cryogenic version of cauterization because something wasn’t healing right after surgery. It was internal. It was SO not fun. I am sure that the salon version would be less awful, but still. I’d be perfectly willing to do it again for medical reasons, but no other.

I have had to have freezing freezing cold horribleness done to a very personal part of my anatomy for medical reasons (thankfully, not cancer-related). There is absolutely ZERO chance that I would ever get it done for any other reason, after that experience.

One year I was requested to provide a toast costume. By a four-year-old. “Just toast. No jelly.”

I’ve been hit by a car. I was knocked over by that cat. They were comparable. (This is because the car in question was going < 5 mph, granted.)

We had one like that. (We had to put him on a diet, but it was only to get him down to 25 pounds from 28.) He was part Maine Coon, and also, I think, part Buick.

Yeah, I had a cheap apartment (in Georgia) with w/d hookups. It was a major selling point. Most of the apartments we’ve looked at in Montreal have them, but they’re nearly all duplexes (at the most, four apartments in an individually-owned building). I think those are a lot more likely to have hookups than complexes…

This. I do laundry regularly, but that’s only because my wife wears uniforms to work, and as the at-home spouse, I do the laundry. She took two weeks off this summer, and despite never being more than 20 feet from the washing machine at any point that I’m at home, I did not do laundry the whole time.

MrsPye does. The first couple of times she told me she was walking to the store because she had a craving for chips and dip, I got my hopes up. Then I discovered this meant Tostitos and queso. (I like Tostitos and queso, but I was hoping for Ruffles and French onion dip. Which you can’t get at our corner store [well,…

Yeah—our sidewalks are so wrecked that I don’t think a scooter could get over them. On days when I need my (wheeled) walker, there are points where I have to give up and go in the road if my wife isn’t there to help lift my walker out if I’m stuck in a hole.

Yesterday, I was sitting on a bench in a local shopping center, knitting while my wife was in a long line getting more rides added to her transit card. I looked, I am sure, like a little old lady knitting. (Because my hair went grey in my 20s and I use a cane, people generally add up to 20 years to my age. When I dye…

I actually had one of those for a while, until I was able to join my wife in Canada. Every now and then, I felt like a real idiot talking about her. (Luckily, enough of my friends and family had seen her that most people believed me.)

I am not Kara, but I’m going to answer this: all the time. Literally, every time I am outside my house by myself. (It happens less often if I am with other people.)

And a lot of gay men and lesbians have stood shoulder to shoulder with trans people... until it was for something that didn’t benefit the gay men or the lesbians, in which case trans people were on their own.

Definitely another split.

Homeopathy would be more, “drink this cup of plain water [that started as an herbal remedy, but was diluted down to where if there is one molecule of the herb left, it’s because it stuck to the side of the bottle] and be healed.”

Chelation therapy. Bleach enemas. Any other of a large number of “treatment protocols” professing to “cure” autism, that not only don’t do anything to help the child with autism, but often put the child’s health at serious risk.