Edited. Brain fart.

“Oooh there’s an intruder in my house. I finally get to use this gun for what I bought it for: shooting another human being.”

Hell, the Christmas season doesn’t even begin, liturgically speaking, until December 24. We sing Advent hymns until then—no Christmas carols until midnight mass. Advent is supposed to be a time of withdrawal and penitence for Christians and of preparation for Christ. But every other church in the area dutifully does…

I gotta wonder if someone confused it with the Hallelujah chorus from Handel’s Messiah. I mean, what the hell? It has nothing to do with Christmas.

I love it. It was the perfect place for him. Had he wandered into our church during mass or evensong, I’m pretty sure our rector would have let him sit wherever the hell he wanted.

Maddy Prior and the Carnival Band!

This made my giggle. Thanks.

Also, “Mary Did You Know” is just a horrible song from a musical, theological, and feminist standpoint. How very condescending to presume to mansplain the immaculate conception to the Blessed Virgin herself, who demonstrated through the Magnificat that she knew quite well what she was getting into. (Of course the…

Meanwhile, some singing nuns are top of the classical charts right now, and they’re quite good. Perhaps you all need to broaden your horizons a bit.

By the way, one need not hate one’s family to hate having to make a sixteen-hour drive at a time when everyone else in the United States is out on the interstates at a time of year when the weather is particularly capricious. I love my family and enjoy having quality time with them, which is why I prefer to see them…

That’s SO nice to hear.

Getting drunk enough to start a fight wreaks havoc on your brain and body and will ultimately end up making you look like Steve Bannon. Just do what we do and don’t visit family on Thanksgiving. (Gawd! WHYYYYYYY!!!! does anybody go through this hell?)

I think “basic” is kind of what Paul Fussell (RIP) used to call “BAD”—not lowercase “bad,” but overhyped, overpriced, pretentious, and mediocre all at the same time. And a lot of weddings are just that. Beer, hot dogs, and a polka band at the firehouse are basic. White zinfandel and rubber chicken are “basic.” Paper…

I’m a little surprised that the neckbeards didn’t get the reference, actually. (I did, and I’m not a geek, but I have a sixteen-year-old niece obsessed with all things anime who used to want me to sit and watch Pokemon and Dragonball with her whenever I came to visit.)

Genetics? I’m so sorry. This is happening to my husband’s cousin right now. Age 44, stage 4, two boys in elementary school, never smoked in her life. It’s apparently a rare mutation inherited from her mother’s family that affects younger, non-smoking women. Fuck that shit.

Here, quick. The antidote.

“Even assuming the person doesn’t get headaches or think all Bath and Body Works scents come in one of two categories (Sophomore Pregnancy Scare and Sandra Lee’s Tablescaped K Hole)“

A grad student of my husband’s once brought me a bottle of top-shelf gin and a pink cyclamen when I made dinner for their research group. What a lovely young man.

Yeah, I’d rather a kid see that than some of the other horrors people have posted above.

Ha! I saw that one just the other day in nice downstate IL.