I wonder if Michelle always dreamed of being a brood mare. If just ONE of those kids ever gets a leg up, and over, that wall - I hope it's elbows and ass cheeks all the way.

As usual, I'm late to the party...I'd blame it on my toddler, except that she's a newly minted teenager. Wait, what? I can use the teenager excuse now??? My God, the fan deck of parental excuses can go on for the rest of my life, can't it? When my precious grandbabies get here, I can start shifting blame all over…

While I read this flyer, candles flickering around me as I soaked in my tub of incredulity, I couldn't help but wonder if I was being trolled. Because, come ON!! Alas, it would appear not. I know that, as a parent, if my daughter came home with this absolutely criminal bullshit in her backpack, the wheels would fall…

My mother gave me the exact same advice. I remember telling her a story about some kid on the bus ride home always asking me "what are YOU looking at?" She told me to respond with "I'm not looking AT you, I'm looking THROUGH you." Right. That will shut him up.

That just might be the funniest fucking thing I've ever read...

I have no words that would adequately convey the apoplectic rage an ambush of this magnitude would send me into. I don't know if it's because I'm getting cynical in my old age - that I'm not fond of (and by not fond of, I mean I hate) surprises - or just the overall lack of respect for the bride as a separate entity…

Scoot over on that bench and let's compare...

I'm going to go all rogue and mix shit up with the Centaur Diet and a side of Prancercise. I'll be ready for the show ring in no time, I just know it!

Up until I was 30, even fucking Tenzing Norgay couldn't have guided my boyfriend(s) to the right spot... then one mad skilled, orally adroit civil engineer changed all of that and I finally understood what all the fuss was about. Initially, I was too busy being enamored with all of the new, game-changing sensations to…

Whatever Jon was doing underneath his blankie, it was not for public consumption. I don't understand the girlfriend's reaction - it's not like he whipped that shit out at the breakfast table and started scratching his balls or pulling root. Jesus H.

I just can't with this guy. Listening to people wax superfluous and seeing the "muses" go all dreamy eyed when the camera panned to them was enough to make my eye twitch. Perhaps it's my provincialism that has kept me from seeing what all the hoopla is with his movies, but I just don't get it. However, my lack of…