"I'm goin' to a state that doesn't kill its own inmates. That's how pro-life it is up there."

It is similar to the "My black/Hispanic/Asian friend thought the joke was funny! I can't be racist!" argument, in that the opinion of one member of a minority group doesn't constitute The End All Be All Of What Is Okay.

I can only pray that my randomly-assigned-for-this-coming-semester roommate is that... interesting. Maybe it's a genetically-linked talent? Who knows.

Oh, good! I figured you were but hey, you never know. At least you acknowledge that you hit your peak of sexual badassness. (And hey! That means you had a peak. That's good.)

Hmm. I swear to god I saw some stripes on those things, but who knows? You may well be right, my eyes are rather bad.

I do kind of wonder what bars you were hanging around in where people just walked around in bras and allowed you to take them off. For research purposes, you understand.

Screw the clap-off bra, I want an Instructable on those resistor-heart pasties.

Have you tried the one-hand method where you sort of pin the hooking-half of the bra down with the heel of your hand and sort of pluck with your thumb and forefinger? Two hands complicate things, I find. I can't even get off my own bra with two hands. Yet somehow, one works.

Or, alternatively, what is bad for the goose is also bad for the gander. The purity movement views women as property, essentially, able to be dirtied by sexual activity, their own sexual urges, and the hypothetical sexual gaze of any male who sees an inch of thigh. I worry for these boys.

Either is possible. I'm of the opinion that human pathology, once formed, is rather difficult to change, so I wouldn't say that miraculously without therapy or introspection that this abusive asshole warped into a decent human being like some kind of human butterfly.

I don't care about all the hate this is getting, I want all of that croissant-cookie madness to enter an unholy union with my stomach.

I am moving to either your pantry or Hungary. Please advise as to which makes this cake with more regularity.

Christ almighty. At least I'm working poor-uni-student jobs for the forseeable future. I don't get benefits anyway, so I don't have to worry about this morass of legal shit. (Until, of course, I do.)

A huge amen to all of this. I really do not "like" feet, but I don't care if you do anything to them. Male, female, dog, feet are just functional pieces that get you where you're going. Ornament them! Don't ornament them! It doesn't matter! Like my feet are really, really bad, and I never do anything to them ever, but…

Sweet Mary Mother of God's virgin vulva and all the saints' vaginas, how the hell would it fit? A gun isn't exactly the optimal... shape for stowing... there.

When you consider that the entire queer lady population that is actually in to watching porn (not all of us are, but hey) would prefer actual queer porn, not just two babes with super long nails and stabby rings painfully fucking and fake-moaning in a chintz-curtained apartment for the titillation of straight men...…

To everything. Really. Amen.

I suppose that if the only clothes you see day in and day out are designed for a "slimmer frame," then yeah, you'll forget a whole other world of clothing exists for people of various proportions, as amply shown above.

As an actress - thank you for what you do/did in theater, jussayin'.

Seriously. It isn't as though, I don't know, different clothing patterns and prints and all sorts of things can be made for women of different body proportions and make them all look flattering. That's what you're paid to do, isn't it?