My dear mother, God rest her soul, called it the wound that never heals.

Frank Sinatra was tiny. Betty Garrett used to joke about how she didn’t need a stuntman to pick him up in a scene, he only weighed two pounds!

I’m older than that, and I don’t have any lines on my forehead. I’m all about the sunscreen.

Yes, please! Disembark! And why not go full Anna Karenina if you feel so strongly?

Oh, yeah. He’s even tap-dancing on a cracker.

I thought, “But he’s dead!”

Yeah, if you’re talking appropriation, Pat Boone’s yer man. Elvis was his own self.

You are not wrong. Pregnancy is way riskier than a first-trimester abortion.

My Amamah always used to say, “You can go to Hell for lying as well as stealing.”

That was Groucho-worthy, my friend.

Inorite?! You can be a hero all winter!

Inorite?! You can be a hero all winter!

Well, they look just like “Combos.” They were cracker/pretzel hollows filled with a grainy cheez-like substance, and they were disgusting. And made for human consumption.

God, those things were awful. I used to call them doggy treats for people.

That’s good to hear! I used to read Regretsy, and while it was hilarious, it also seemed like a shitshow for people who were actually making nice things and getting lost among all the re-sold Chinese crap and placenta art.

Me, too! I think April even took down the archives. So sad.

You should! Etsy is godawful; so poorly managed. I was a loyal follower of Regretsy, and they used to expose all the stupid.

No, getting a DUI is no fucking fun. It’s humiliating. Or so I’ve heard.

Good think it’s only part, ’cause all of him wouldn’t fit!

I’m standing in a field of daisies, questioning my own freshness.

Ooooh! Try it roasted! Toss w/olive oil and kosher salt, spread on a cookie sheet along with a few unpeeled garlic cloves and roast at 450°. It’s way yummier than steamed or whatever.