When you said "all your favorite divas" I was hoping for Patti, Liza, Bernadette... none of these upstarts are my favorite divas... also, get off my lawn.

Also in the trilogy: a scene where a male slave gets a purse full of coins shoved up his ass.

I normally have a stinge of hate (because I am jealous) of young people who go on to study in a university and actually have fun. I was so frazzled and being chased by the monster of poverty and fear of the world that I wanted to focus as much as possible on how to build skills and education that would translate to…

Speaking as someone from Europe, I can reassure you that the vast majority of us truly do not give a shit what American travellers are wearing when they pass through Heathrow or Schiphol or Charles de Gaulle. We're not spending a lot of time thinking about it. Promise. Wear what makes you comfortable.

Suck my diiiick J. Bryan. My metaphorical dick. My real one does not exist. I need to be able to curl into a tiny ball in my seat and pass the hell out (I don't care if it's a 45 minute commuter flight, I'm sleeping for 42 minutes of it) and I can't do that in a dress. I also don't really want to sit on grody airport…

If I have to sit on a seat built for a capuchin monkey, terrified to recline it lest I get stabbed, you bet I'm wearing sweats. I'd wear a toga if I had one.

If this is made available for real and is safe, I am going to encourage boyfriend umlaut sign up ASAP when it's available. I have dealt with hormonal BC for years and now I have a fucking foreign object in my uterus (Mirena) to prevent mini umlauts running around. He can deal with taking a few years of the birth…

Still mad they gave the Witch to Meryl instead of her in Into the Woods. Why get hamburger when you can have filet?

Everybody's heart belongs to Carol Burnett. Especially if you were a theatre kid.

Let me raise the stakes, here: I don't like creamsicles, either.

The last time I wanted to party with 14-year-olds I was 14 years old.

I had a curfew and rules and was usually too nerdy to party, but when I inevitably fucked up and got too drunk in buttfuck nowhere in my later teens, I called my Sort Of Cool Mom. She was pissed and told me I needed to get my shit together, but gave…

My friends thought my mom was cool but it was more the way she was able to relate to them & not talk down to them (also her awesome taste in music). No way she would have been ok with shit like this. You can be a cool parent without plying your child & their friends with alcohol.

I'M CALLING IT RIGHT NOW:

Professional linguist popping in to say that "grammatically correct" isn't a scientific term. It literally means nothing beyond what old-fashioned, aggressive traditionalists prescribe for humanity.

The fundamental tenet of formal linguistic study is that whatever native speakers use in real life is grammatical. So do…

1) Mixing a drug sensor into a complex mixture replete with organic solvents may blunt the sensitivity of the sensor and actually reduce the rate of false positives.

Everything you just wrote speaks to me so hard. I, too, am a short curvy gal and the stuff I like the most does not look good on me, and I also am not too into conservative tailored looks, although they look best on me. Sigh!

Yeah. I'm a hippie girl at heart. I lurve me some long gauzy dresses, prairie prints, braids, boyfriend cut jeans...But I'm 5'2" and while I'm very thin I'm curvy, with a pronounced waist and flared hips and a (if I may say so) a nicely rounded butt. Which means the boyish, hippie looks I love make me look super…

I think a lot of us do that, and these conceited assholes just assume it's a smile.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

My preferred response is eye contact/lips squashed together in what can technically be interpreted as a smile but is really a grimace. It's an acknowledgment that he spoke, but it can't remotely be read as encouragement.

I think what it is is that by making a statement like that, I no longer feel like a person, I feel like "sexual object #26825 at supermarket store #3736" and it makes me feel like, "how long has he been watching me? has he followed me before?"