afterburningaburner, I’m replying to you here, so you can’t dismiss the comment.

Keep those rusty, gunk-encrusted gears grinding. It’ll come to you eventually.

Did you used to hover a finger over your sibling, a half inch from their eye, and say, “I’m not touching you, I’m not touching you, I’M NOT TOUCHING YOU”? Because you seem like the type.

I swear he's now using full strength iodine on his face. Or the elevated parts of it, anyhow. He looks like he's been prepped for surgery and forgotten about in the shot above.

Perfectly reasonable.

Katie isn’t bland, or Michigan is a dream getaway? Because while the second may be selectively true, Katie is only suitable to be served on stale bagels and dollar store crackers.

Now I’m picturing Katie Holmes snarling, “But not me, baby, I’m too precious. Fuck off.” And laughing.

Because they are blandness, personified. Like Katie. She's pretty much store-brand cream cheese.

They are Stupid Gossip Royalty. When they die, they will go to Stupid Gossip Heaven, and frolic with Jennifer Aniston’s 29 babies, while Brad and Angelina bicker on the brink of divorce, in the background.

Who?

I will never not love her. I don’t care if it eventually comes out that she eats pug puppies and smokes ground kitten bones. I love her moony face, her rich, deep voice, and her seemingly unflappable charm.

The entire family:

Pretty sure Andy Cohen is a carrier. No additional technology required.

It’s just that sort of positive, sunny outlook that makes me want to snap your neck like a twig.

“...create(d) the earth and the moon and started all of the chemical reactions that created life.”

I have a chicken named Stabitha!

I empower change in an emailery. I used to work in a paperworkerie, but we innovated.

I know a Dan Smith. And the funniest thing is that he looks exactly like a stock photo.