My Lord, this is a twelve point email for one evening's excursion to a strip club.

resplendent.husband and I compete every year to see who can get each other the most hideous Valentine's Day present.

Oh, I totally use Perfect365 to remove under eye circles, weird shadows, redness (and total honesty - enhance my eyelashes). The pre-made make-up settings are ridiculous, but the individual tools are super-useful.

Emily Yoffe, in a nutshell

Letter writer should be congratulated for asking a question that made Dear Prudence's response sound like Dan Savage by comparison.

Well, the results of that field haircut were definitely kind of mullet-y....

Twelve year old little resplendent decided to try blow drying her hair with a round brush to give it body, like 'Teen' magazine suggested. (This was in the pleistocene era, kids.)

As a diagnosed bipolar 1, post-part in mania is _definitely_ a thing. The birth of my second child kicked off a manic episode that had me grocery shopping, cleaning the house and planning my return back to work the day I was released from the hospital.

Yes, Becky. Gawd, do you even Kappa?

So, from my reading, it looks like this photograph of a dude walking down the street went through three different people before it ended up in that email.

Maybe that guy IS the Black Friend. You know, the one who's totally cool with [thing white person just said] and [potentially problematic white person behavior].

"Damn, these Dockers _do_ make me look irresistible!"

TL/DR: Rich basic bitches furious that they may be confused with middle class basic bitches, literally unable to even.

Between the erotica-like sex descriptions, and the fact that, uh, her family and friends are on board with this (riiiiiiiiiiiigght), I'm calling bullshit.

Love me some CA.

Gurl. You need to run far away from this family of Evil Bees and never look back.

I mean, a little mystery is good and all, I guess, but IMHO, sex in a relationship where you're still trying to maintain the illusion that you don't fart will _never_ beat the kind of freaky, here's-the-weird-shit-I-like and I-think-maybe-I-want-to-try-this-new-thing, judgment-free sex you can have with your best…

Is the supervisor by chance from the South? That seems a very Southern way of shading to me (but I could be wrong.)