“Your coastal and silicon priviledge is destroying this country, C.A. #triggerwarningsa-hole”

“My great-granmother’s step-brother’s uncle-in-law’s half daughter died from driving into a lake due to advanced Glorpmans, and I found this whole thing to be gravely offensive. I hope you and your gang of little pricks get a chunk of Red caught in your self-centred throats.”

“TEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETOS!”

“Actually, sir, that’s a Bud Light.”

I think there should be a t-shirt that just says “Dammit, Pinkham!”

As long as everyone is admitting knowledge gaps: it wasn’t until my early twenties that I learned that fish tacos were food and not (just) slang for female genitalia.

Hi, welcome to BCO! We have fun here.

“Dammit, Pinkham! You beat me to the punch!”

When an author trolls his own blog, then I know I’m in the right place:)

I have to explain to her that it’s not alchemy or magic that transmutes peppercorns into pepper

Seriously, that guy needed to check his beach privilege. In some cultures, sand is just a parking lot. If people won’t be patient with those not privileged enough to know that sand+water=beach, we will never move forward as a society. :(

When I was in college I bartended at burger restaurant.

Clearly, beach guy is allergic to sand, and spends his days as far away from beaches as humanly possible. In Hawaii.

I hope your asshole writes a bestseller countering all of your dick’s accusations, and that the two of them become embroiled in a decades-long media feud.

“you’ve never worked with the general public before.”

I’ve been working with General Public so long, he was just Lieutenant Public when I got started.

“How dare you mock the guy for not knowing what the beach is? Some people make it to age 50 without visiting the beach and somehow completely missing the ever-present representations of beaches in popular culture. Besides, many people suffer from Glorpman’s Syndrome, which is an inability to understand the…

That’s fucking amazing. And that seems like exactly what that skirt was meant to do.

Once when I was in high school, my mom came into my room around two in the morning. She poked me until I woke up and said, “Cathy, your mama, she have a little drink tonight. Your mama, she have LOTS of little drinks tonight.” and then she laughed and stumbled out to her room.

My mom passed away in 2009 from ovarian cancer. She was not the warm and fuzzy type when I was growing up—that was my dad. She and I had an odd relationship, which she tried to remedy in her own way before she died. So it’s hard to remember anything that stands out in particular. She was an efficient caretaker,…

My mama and I have a very close relationship, so I am very lucky and have a lot of great stories, but one recent story that sticks out was about three years ago. I’m married and poly, and my mom loves my husband. I was dating someone and falling in love and wanted to share it with her but was unsure of what she would…

My mother was widowed very suddenly and all-too-young but to her credit, she regained her impish side within the year. One fine day, she was in the local supermarket when she ran into one of the town’s nosiest and pettiest gossips who wasted no time in getting straight to the point, asking: so, what have you been…