For a grey blob of tissue, it ain't bad.

How does this affect my raw pasta diet? I was about to publish my raw pasta cookbook: Crunchy Delights In Your Cabinet: Plenty of Penne for All.

Truly, other than grudging waitstaff, who needs input from Kevin Sorbo, ever?

LIVE WOMEN! IN CAPTIVITY! MORE THAN FIVE!

He was a judge on the kiddie Project Runway series, which, against all odds was SO positive, upbeat and empowering. Those kids were fucking GIFTED, and ran circles around adult PR contestants in both originality and sewing skills. Plus, they were incredibly supportive of each other, respectful, and kind. And funny as…

Even just reading the numbers sickens me.

That I can block TLC from my favorite channels with my remote is my favorite thing about Dance Moms. Also, see: ESPN, the Golf Channel, QVC, and Bravo. The last was the hardest, but I was doing far too much hate watching, and accompanying it by teeth grinding/jaw clenching, I was going to end up with smooth molars: my…

Why do you hate me? How have I ever harmed you?

Oh dear god, let the sun flare and go out already. We so deserve it.

These days, she just waves her arm around dramatically. I guess I assume she once did. Weird to think of claiming mastery over something you've never done, but who knows.

I am doing just what you describe: my offense is just not walking while on the escalator. Especially down: I have depth perception issues, and going down stairs is tricky, even without movement. Fire drills are a real pain in the ass when I have to clamp down twenty-six flights of stairs. I stay home those days.

Maybe at her sentencing, Abby Lee Miller can perform an interpretative dance, demonstrating how remorseful she is. With scarves, lots of swirly scarves, and a breakdancing interlude.

I work in a major city, I walk with a cane, and I need to hold the escalator with my right hand, so I need to stand on the right. I’be been on the receiving end of that brand of “excuse me” on a daily basis for years, most often by people who never look back to see who they’re shaming.

Put her on the damn $100 bill.

I miss Miss Luanne Platter.

Yep. I thought to misle was somehow more criminal or devious than to mislead. In the case of Nancy Drew, as a kid I thought it sort of meant too, that she was puzzled as a result of being misled. That it was a state she was in: she was misled.

Come sit by me.

I thought the word “misled” was pronounced MY-zuld until I was about twenty five. Like the past tense of misle (MY-zil.) It came up a lot in Nancy Drew books, but not that often later, until I humiliated myself saying it around once.

She's probably hoping to trade the beads for land. : (

On whom the top half apparently stopped a falling piano.