That's my take on it also. And it is pretty fucking terrible that, at the very least, #AliveWhileBlack isn't good enough; that the takeaway is "but it happens to white people too!"

Good thing I've still got that barf bag handy from yesterday's MLPs-fermenting-in-cum-filled-jars post.

From now on, whenever I'm in the midst of a major depressive episode and feeling genuinely nuts, I'll have this as my insanity touchstone. "At least I'm not preserving some toys in cum-filled jars just yet!"

That #CanTalkToMyDad would actually probably be the most helpful for me. At a glance I'd be able to tell dude watches Fox news, randomly blames Obama and immigrants for everything, thinks gay men are okay only if they don't check him out, and wonders how he can help keep Christ in Christmas. On to bachelor number…

Mine on Thanksgiving, after she'd had her fill of turkey and knocked all the utensils nearby on the floor.

I get asked if I'm feeling okay or told that I look tired if I leave the house without makeup. Specifically if I don't put on concealer under my eyes. It's always like, Oh okay, thanks.

I feel like I didn't mentally balance out until at least 27, for one thing. And it took me a long time to just like myself and be comfortable enough in my own body, and I guess I just noticed that I did after I settled in to 30.

I'll be 32 in a couple of months and to be honest? You couldn't pay me to be 20-something ever again.

Right? The only thing I like about that stop is I'm lazy and just want to walk across the platform to change lines wherever possible.

Just because you mentioned the 7, I'm compelled to bitch about how it is always just crowded enough for there to be an ass in every seat already by the time it gets to fucking Queensboro Plaza, even at 2:30 in the morning on a Wednesday. The 7 just pisses me off most of the time.

I'm really sorry you had to go through that.

"Tell your mommy not to kill your baby brother or sister!"

I'm pretty sure I burst into tears one time while listening to "Two Out of Three Ain't Bad" by Meatloaf, at a New Year's party. Just too many feelings! And champagne!

Oh man, totally with you on the Todd Rundgren and John Denver.

I was coming here to say that I pretty much cannot listen to "A Case of You", by Joni Mitchell, without crying. Ugh.

That's who I was thinking of after I stopped being creeped out for a minute!

I haven't read any of these yet, but felt compelled to comment anyway ON THAT PICTURE. It popped up on my Facebook newsfeed and totally interrupted my happy scrolling. Eeek.

I really want to hug my cat right now, but she's in or behind furniture.

Can this stop being a thing people say in response to complaints about street harassment? And I don't mean to be a dick here to you, this is just a comment that really sucks in general when anyone says it. Not only does it minimize some potentially scary shit that you're up against every day, regardless of where you…

I think almost every day I wish I could be invisible. Like, I'm just here to get a fucking bagel, dude, stop staring at me and making me feel like I should've at least dressed up for the occasion.