I like her, a lot:

History says no. : (

In seventh grade, I had a metal shop teacher who liked to tell us that the downfall of the human race would be that whenever we don’t know something, we tend to seek out someone stupider than ourselves to ask for help, because it’s less humiliating than asking someone wiser. Also, when they shrug and say, “I dunno,”…

Ehh. We’d all just argue about whether Bernie could have beat Trump, or if Hillary was “anointed” by the DNC, or whether poor white people being oppressed/silenced is the biggest problem we face.

Ever since Gone Girl, I think of him as that character: alcoholic, bitter, vaguely misogynist, devoid of introspection, incredibly depressed, defeated, with terrible judgment.

I am also twelve, because I read this as “Am a Looney,” and giggled for a full minute.

Lindsay Lohan is thirty. Thirty. Save your breast milk.

Because.

Sort of. God only knows. Maybe.

Also missing: the humble foursquare.

I would bring a blanket for sure. With which to hang myself.

Well, they nailed her horrid accent anyhow.

[shrug]

“WAS THIS MARTIN FELLOW HUMMING? YOUR FATHER USED TO WHISTLE, ALL THE TIME. WHAT A BASTARD HE WAS, WITH THE WHISTLING AND THE JINGLING. THAT POOR LITTLE WAYNE, IF THATS WHAT IT WAS, I CAN UNDERSTAND.”

Hello, fellow old.

My everything hurts.

“...examining the impact of the case through this lens is a perspective that we have yet to see.”

He looks like an IT guy who would come crawling out from under your desk when you came back from lunch EVEN THOUGH YOU HAD NO COMPUTER PROBLEMS BECAUSE HE JUST REALLY LIKES FEET SPACES

STOP WATCHING ME and it’s Thai/sate.