Oh lord. I got so overly-sick from drinking that before a colonoscopy, I passed out from dehydration and had to be ambulanced to the hospital for 4 bags of IV fluids. It was awful.

Exactly. Never? Hmmm....

It just hasn’t found its inner confidence yet, clearly.

BUT! Trader Joe’s beet hummus is amazing.

I trust her recipes implicitly. Also: she is not a skeleton. I don’t trust chefs who are paper thin. I like a chef who actually eats what she/he cooks, with happiness and enthusiasm.

If this fucker doesn’t shit the fuck up....why isn’t he banned? And here’s my age-old question: Why am I grey but an idiot troll like that isn’t??? Bah humbug two months early.

I love this! I had a similar story with my own Mom. I was in high school, too, and was basically a really good kid, just annoyed my very strict parents with normal teen behavior. I had never snuck out at night before, but since I had an earlier curfew than my friends, one time I decided to get dropped off, check in,…

So I was in grad school, dating my (now husband) new boyfriend who was visiting me for the weekend. I was totally trying to maintain the Melania Illusion that we could spend a weekend together in my apartment and I didn’t poop. Well, that came to a screeching halt one night when I stealth pooped in the bathroom,…

Right?? Go submit it in a short-story contest. Not here. For this is HALLOWED GROUND! (totally not kidding.)

I feel like a LOT of the entries this year were short story fiction, totally not real stories that happened to them. I was bummed.

Yes, quite like that.

Right?? He was literally belly laughing in his freaking wheelchair, “come on, let’s go vote him into office! President Trump, here we come, ha ha hah!”

I just took my 86-year old Dad to vote and it was so exciting. He thought it was hilarious to tease me the entire time that he was voting for Trump, but I watched him proudly cast his ballot for Hillary. (I think it also helped that I told him Mom would march down from heaven and kill him if he didn’t vote for…

I want to kick Paul Ryan so hard in his balls that they fly out of his mouth. And I swear to god, I am not normally a violent person.

I’m going to be a guest in a skybox for his concert next week: I have no idea about his music at all (I’m in it for the fun, boozy, party bus night), but I am happy to take it upon myself to somehow let him know that his hair choices could stand trial at The Hague, if you’d like.

Can someone, anyone, get me out of the godforsaken greys where I have languished FOREVER?

The gore was so awful and everything was so violent that I got mad at my husband who was next to me in bed while we watched it. I don’t know why I got mad at him; because...he’s a man? And he was there? And Negan is a man but wasn’t there?? He was just as confused as I was. And then I had to eat crow by cuddling up to…

Why doesn’t he have eyebrows? It’s amazing how much he looks like a Made For TV rapist. What a rapey rapey face with cold-ass rapey rapey eyes.

Thank you. I was too consumed with my rage stroke to come up with a way to reply.

I was a wedding shower a couple of years ago for an old high school friend. One of the women at the table was telling a story about her teenage son and how she told him to go out with his friends rather than on a date with a girl. This Mom (A MOM!!!) told us with glee how she was introducing him to the concept of…