no moleste

BTB is THE FUCKING SHIT. Not only does it seem to taste better than nice carton stocks, but you can customize the intensity of the stock, it is virtually imperishable (so no rush to use that unopened carton of stock), and you can make a combo beef-chicken base without having to open TWO cartons of broth.

I hear you. But he sounds like a keeper anyway. ;)

Energy = Giant Butt Bows

Omfg Naomi from Mama’s Family. I loved her.

You have my sympathy. Having your spouse cook for you is such a joy. It makes you feel cared for.

Truly. Diana would have looked stunning in a burlap sack. The dress itself looks like a cross between Naomi from “Mama’s Family” and a Crystal Barbie.

I was just wishing it was a little easier to find parachute pants and square shoulder pads these days. Now excuse me while I go fetch my windbreaker and legwarmers...

“Capturing the energy of the 1980's”

Meanwhile, my husband can’t cook a potato no matter how much help and guidance I give him

All of the 💕💞💗💓❤️💖💟💝💞 for this. I’m close to a couple of situations where the parents aren’t taking this attitude, and all of the kids know who’s “in” and who’s “out”. It’s really screwing up the parental relationships and the sibling relationships for the long term. I honestly don’t get it. If there are kids…

I don’t understand why people were/are surprised that Chris Evans was/is dating Jenny Slate. Is she not considered beautiful by most people? I thought she was pretty much known across the board to be stunning.

I love “bonus kids”!

It must be nice to not get shot after kicking a cop.

Without getting too much into it (because it’s just a google away) my friend’s brother in law was arrested years ago for raping some of his students over 5 years. He had cameras in the locker rooms too.

I sometimes think Rose McGowan should take a deep breath before she tweets. I also believe Meryl is probably very much in a bubble when it comes to her day-to-day life.

I suffered from depression and anxiety since I was a small child, didn’t get on meds until I was 40 (20+ years ago). I marveled that such a tiny pill could make my life livable, and I could actually be happy without the underlying sense of impending doom.

Oh shut up, mental illness is fucking real. And spinach smoothies and yoga don’t fucking fix it. Good Lord.

When I first started taking anti anxiety pills, it was like a curtain was lifted into my real life

I have only one request for a car “for ladies”-- a place to put my fucking purse that’s not the passengers seat! How hard is that?