Unless there was a litter of puppies in the car, it’s just ... a car. And she will be compensated.

Where is the photo of Gwen Berry? I don’t need two angles of a man kneeling.

I can’t get past the picture. Can’t.

...but gay marriage desecrates the institution.

For simplicity, you can’t beat the original (chocolate) Dilly Bar. The inside tastes good, the chocolate’s really good, and the ratio between the two is spot-on. From the gas station, I have to vote Chipwich or Choco Taco.

As a former bartender, I wouldn’t eat the fruit served from the bar.

Q: How many seconds of Antoni’s SponCon mukbang can you make it through?

I’m at work so couldn’t actually read the Buckley story, but upon skimming, the following jumped out:

Having suffered over 50 years of living next door to the enemy, it’s not the beer you have to worry about - it’s the brandy. Holy shit. It should be fun to attend a Twins vs Brewers Border Battle at Target Field, but all the locals end up leaving when the drunken ‘Sconnies get unbearable. By the middle of the 2nd…

I employ (under stress, in order) the George Carlin canon:

That cross used to be a crucifix, but JC heard him spewing that racist bullshit and left.

Check that flow. Sadly, the Hockey Hair video has come to an end after 10 years.

Saddest guy observing the threesome from afar?

...and that’s a non sequitur. Wut?

I’ll counter by saying that we don’t necessarily want to feel superior, we want to reassure ourselves. I watched Nanny 911 and said, “Well, I’m not THAT bad.” I watched Intervention and said, “Well, I don’t drink THAT much.” I watched Hoarders and said, “Well, I don’t have THAT much shit.”

As with everything today, the New Yorker presents a story from one point of view and Jezebel from another, each leaning toward a different extreme, based on one’s confirmational bias. It takes a discerning reader, and one willing to form an opinion without being led, to decide where the kernel of truth lies.…

Gandhi. Slimer.

Twenty-five or so years ago, in an attempt to be social, I attended two musical theater productions - Jesus Christ Superstar and Cats. The former did not make a particular impression on me, but during the latter, the cats danced off stage for a few moments. One kitty forgot she was on a hot mic and the audience heard,…

Minnesota, like many other states, has sharp political divides between the metropolitan area and outstate, rural farming communities. We’re not all Marge Gunderson, and the 5th won’t long entertain this feckless imbecile. I hope she’s enjoying her 15 minutes. I’ve lived in the 5th since 1985, so I know whereof I…

My mom forgot my 16th birthday, too. We got in the car and drove 3 hours to my aunt & uncle’s house with me pouting in the back seat. When we arrived, my aunt threw open the door holding a cake with lit sparklers and exclaimed, “Happy Sweet Sixteen!” The moment I saw my mother’s expression may have been the first time…