“I was saying ‘Boo-Urns.’”

Though to be fair, most of that is the clinical depression. But shit, this period hasn’t helped at fucking all.

The intro to that really makes it seem like the intro to an SNL parody, and I’m still not 100% certain that it isn’t.

This is truly a worthy entry for Drew’s POOP STORY OF THE WEEK: Dropped a rare double deuce, then embarked on the second biggest comeback in tennis history.

No time for conversion therapy, yet, I guess.

It’s her world, and it’s fantastic.

Not when you’re a writer, and internet commenting sounds like drafting!

Worst ump show ever.

-1 pivot

On the other hand, it’s the sign of a perfectly healthy and socially well- adjusted mind to prescribe someone with “self-esteem issues” based on reading about only one of their life experiences.

My favorite answers revolve around the (paraphrased) sentiment of “It was a show about a magic island. If you’re unsatisfied with the answer to any of the mysteries being ‘island magic,’ you were probably watching the wrong show.

The island was on the bottom of the ocean because it was an alternate timeline when an atomic explosion destroyed the island.

Oh, you know what the tie means. It’s not even subtle in how it projects penile insecurity.

Just the latest example of democracy failing America.

His mind is a rotten Jello casserole with chunks of rat poison instead of fruit. 

I’m from Philly, so that’s a risk I run every day.

How would you know? I thought you were off the cast before they switched channels.

Didn’t work for my student loans, but the problem was the scale, you see, and certainly not the fact that I don’t have any valuable assets.

A few years back, I was working for a magazine and pitched a satire essay about solving America’s debt by just selling off pieces to the highest bidder, for naming rights or, frankly, you bought it, it’s yours to do what you want!

For 30-ish years of conscious food choosing, I harbored some strange resentment for radishes. Maybe they didn’t have the flavor profile to suit my 6 year old needs, but that simple refreshing delight—with or without a pinch of salt—is what I crave now.