I am Jack’s approval.

This is like all of the people who read/watched Fight Club and started a local fight club.

No need to insult sex workers.

Women like looking hot, but don’t want to say it. It is not politically correct.

I’m going to dissect this bullshit one bit at a time:

I thought the point was that an old Jedi Master in exile sexually assaults an alien, drinks their boob fluid and it’s played for laughs. I feel like more needs to be said about the violated alien.

Can we just not have sex with evil men? Is that enough?

You mean brown sugar tits?

Well, Bear is full of crap. Stephen is correct. A real actor can portray a role without words. Any dimbulb who claims to be a critic should know that.

Reporter: Tom, do you like Don Trump?

It’s completely consistent. They aren’t going to interfere with her medical treatment, the length of your hair isn’t part of that treatment, sorry. She’s in prison, it’s not supposed to be fun.

That is some grade-A bullshit coming out of Chelsea Manning’s mouth. You can’t really be a woman if you have short hair? Go fuck yourself.

Watch Chelsea Peretti’s stand up. I like lots of female comedians, but I agree with this. It’s too easy to fall back on old tropes like that and female comedians needs to challenge themselves more. (But I would also say just about every fat male comedian has a series of jokes about being fat and out of shape, and I…

I think it’s like anytime a person finds something new and exciting. My friends sure got tired of me talking about Twin Peaks, dragging them up to Snoqualmie Falls to see the filming locations from the pilot, and forcing them to watch every other David Lynch movie. Then I got over the initial excitement, and I swear…

Guys...

Amazing story and friend.

As a cheese to a cheese, I’ve (kind of) done the same thing. Made spicy tomato soup with a bunch of little chilies, put it on to simmer for a few hours, decided to go, you know, hang out with myself for a little... it burned so much I could have sworn there was smoke rising from my labia.

Okay... In college (early 90’s), having sex with my friend-with-bennies as she sat on the bathroom sink when she asks me if I’m sure it’s strong enough to hold her (110 pounds, tops). “Sure I’m sure!” Seconds later, the ceramic sink gives way and she’s on the floor with the hugest, bloodiest gash down her arm I’ve…

Oh, okay then. Here goes.

I have solved the eternal toilet seat debate: the person who cleans the toilet sets the default seat position. An elegant and just solution.