Yes! My daughter became obsessed with the PGA golfer Matt Kuchar when she was 2 or so. He was on the cover of Golf Digest or some shit and she would just stare at it and say, ‘Matt Kuchahhhhhh.” My friend was working for Titleist at the time and got Matt to record a video message for her. She SPAZZED when we played…

He’d be a great president. He’s engaged, hard working, and actually gives a shit.

Good for her, but I don’t want my little girl growing up playing football. I don’t want little boys doing it either.

So THAT’S what a diet of circus peanuts does to the skin.

My friend’s mom was buried in their cemetery. It was very rustic and backbreaking, putting her in the ground in a pine box using ropes to lower her in. But then after we were done, we all went and bought a cheesecake. Surreal.

That’s not what a regulation tennis net looks like. Idiots.

I assume he was holed up in his motel, working on the minutes from the last meeting of that well regulated militia he belongs to.

I used to waitress, and one night a lady ordered “fah-jeeee-tahs.” When I brought them out to her, she yelled at me, asking who in their right mind would bring such steaming hot food to the table. I replied, “Clearly you didn’t realize how fah-jeeee-tahs are served.”

It’s like when my mom makes all stores possessive. Target’s. Barnes & Noble’s. Walmart’s. Always makes me giggle.

You know what oozes romance? Sputnik.

Exactly. I love Carole, but I also tune in to see how nuts Ramona is. I ran upstairs last night to make sure my DVR was recording it because I knew I couldn’t watch until later. Not ashamed.

Her horrible recipes. “No, honey. Even in casserole form, this is still chipped beef.”

But in the last episode it was Luann who was unhinged and Sonja was the sane one. Classic RHONY reversal of fortunes.

Wait. Is that bad? I watch the show. Are you throwing shade at me?!

Her Sonja is spot on. Rich Little couldn’t give us a better “NICE DOESN’T WORK WITH YOU PEOPLE!”

Yes, so true! Looking at my own bookshelf, I love so many of the orange/Penguin ones.

“free rancid chicken thighs” Cleans you right out.

Inside, there’s a bookshelf with volumes arranged by color

Come on. That “chew tobacco...spit” song was an instant entry into the Great American Songbook.

I didn’t mention Crossfire. I hope you get all the all the horrible tragedies you want, so you can have a serious Daily Show on a more regular basis.