I also moved over to e-cigs (almost two years ago) having smoked for 30 years and will never go back. They worked really well for me. In the beginning they were not nearly as satisfying as regular cigarettes but they delivered the nicotine so I kept with them. I too find I can go a lot longer without them than if I…

I had to look this up after seeing Ricky’s picture. He’s 43! Fatherhood seems to agree with him. Forget all this singing and writing of children’s books: write a monthly skincare and health and lifestyle advice column. And of course the wise and welcome op-eds.

It’s a start, marrying the dictator. Eva Perón married Juan Perón and had a huge say in how Argentina was run. Same with Imelda Marcos in the Phillipines. You just won’t to get stuck married to a dictator like any of the Soviet leaders (except for Mikhail Gorbachev) whose wives were never seen or referred to and…

Oh what a beautiful dog! Tell Red I said hello! My male black Lab mix is quite the ladies’ man. I will have to show him the photo.

I think it’s pretty common to refer to a dog by its breed. I don’t think it’s a slam against pit bulls. I love it when I read about someone’s French bulldog and it’s referred to as the owner’s “Frenchie.” But I have the sense of humor of a nine-year-old boy.

That’s Monday morning in my house.

And failing clothing companies.

I assumed AVI was a new strain of bird flu.

I envy my friends who live in the DMV because they have easy access to the Delmarva Peninsula.

Maybe tell your sister, “Sorry, I’m just not that into you”?

Catamite is a great word that is sadly underused. So is “invert.” And “ephebe,” which basically means “barely legal.” I am a gay man.

My husband and I do this to each other all the time, and not just with milk. Really any foodstuff with a dairy component will do: leftover pizza from a month ago, cheese that someone brought to a party we can’t even remember having, yogurt, sour cream…Our refrigerator should get its own episode of Hoarders.

One of the most remarkable things about this apartment is that it’s a condo, not a co-op, rare for the neighborhod, but apparently while Joan Rivers WAS THE PRESIDENT OF THE CONDO BOARD the building was run with all the restrictiveness (and exclusiveness) of a co-op.

And if I’m running late and walk him after 6 PM he’ll (literally) bark at me, “Change into black tie. What are we, savages?”

Did you ever see the “Twilight Zone” episode Agnes Moorehead starred in? She played a rural woman who lived alone and is visited by a tiny spaceship? She didn’t speak once. An incredible performance.

My dog is just fine with the ballrooms (we have two) but freaks out if I take him into the servants’ wing. I have to remind him, “They may be servants, but they’re people too.”

My only problem with it is that if I entered that room and there were 20 people sitting around I wouldn’t know they were there. The ghostly Mrs. Spencer is obviously able to hide in plain sight.

I’m pretty sure his entire adult life has been a publicity stunt that’s gotten out of hand.

She was the best but as she got older she became very cat-like, slept like 20 hours a day, and her four waking hours were spent with me surveilling the neighborhood and on the lookout for suspicious pigeons, her ears (as in the photo) ever alert for the faintest “coo”, which was the call of the wild for her.

Oh my God I want them all! The hound I have now, a black Lab mix, is incredibly friendly, to the point of harming himself (like, if we ran into a grizzly he’d try to lick its face while the grizzly would be trying to tear his head off) so I’m sure all those poodles could snuggle right in!