Get off your high horse, Natalia Poklonskaya.

I watch a lot (too much) of black and white TV: Perry Mason, Hitchcock Presents, The Fugitive. Apparently everyone who watches these programs needs catheters, to sue shipyards over mesothelioma or doctors over collapsed vaginal mesh, and My Pillows.

Here’s the list of top Ingraham advertisers for the third quarter of 2018, just in case you want to avoid them like the plague.

You appreciated sensuality and glamour! No shame there. It’s not your fault if they hid it away in the restroom.

Uncanny Vast, Bottomless Canyon.

You’re right! It’s Mitzi who was a flocking aficionado. Janet’s tree preferences were apparently more natural.

The Carpenters covered it, sadly enough.

Wallpaper paste is wall mayo!

“Spiced” mayonnaise has a name: aioli.

Hey! HEYYYY. I unreservedly, unabashedly love The Carpenters. Except for that “Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Crafts” crap heap of a song. And maybe that “Sing, sing a song” song. That one’s a little Sesame Street bossy.

Scandal Fatigue has to be part of the strategy, right? The notion that eventually, like trying to figure out cricket, we’ll collectively throw our hands up, go to the kitchen for a snack, and never come back?

It’s a wall, Michael, what can it cost, a billion dollars?

Fine, I’ll start a GoFundMe for an escalator to the moon.

That, his lipliner, and his Long Guyland accent.

Actually, I was thinking of having my old LiveJournal musings committed to cinnamon toast. FOR FUTURE GENERATIONS MIND YOU

HI GIVE ME YOUR MONEY THANKS

“His words are etched on stainless steel plates which are held in titanium boxes filled with inert gases, and then stored in the underground vaults...”

Never forget: Labrie pre-Warby Parker gentle nerd makeover:

Keeps the air conditioning in. Pays for itself in three years, two if we don’t keep going in and out of Mexico all the time.

Good! Idle hands and all that. Plus, less time to pose for photos betraying ignorance of leg day.