Tendin' to chilluns is wimmen's work.

To err on the side of caution, I always go to that one aisle in Target and buy one of those teeny travel-sized guns when I'm planning to fly.

Well then, that rules her out.

"I’m okay. I look great. I’m cool. I like going out. I like being at home, I like movies, I like eating. So what’s wrong with me? Why am I alone?" Worst. POF. Profile. Evah.

But, so many medicines...

Much as he'd have liked to try, I'll wager he'd have never made it to the Colts' gametime.

The best part? He did them all himself.

I nominate Courtney Stodden.

You are clearly not a Schiano Man.

That's not really narrowing it down.

GLH=Get Her Liquor, although, to be fair, it probably should read GHML.

It's not so much about the legs as the numerous armpits.

Tuba players blow.

I'm not Catholic, yet I'll join you!

The photograph at the link of Holly Madison makes it appear that her head is a dance floor.

No, that's Musburger's real hair.

The Allied Forces are once again victorious.

I believe the monster already ate, and then promptly vomited the meal back up onto that blue t-shirt.

No home training, smh.