Azealia gives me Kanye feels. Like I hear you, yas I get you, but also could you maybe sit down for a second and like idk get a rough draft together?

I honestly don't know how you keep from looking him dead in the eye and saying WELL LA TI FUCKING DA, PAL

Fuzzy, adorable puppy picture aside, it doesn't END WELL FOR ANY OF THE DOGS in the actual article. Sob.

My name is Maggie and I have been resigned to my fate for years. I know far more labradors with my name than people.

Well I guess this counters the idea that body cameras will help mitigate the problem.

i got mine in the teen section at macy's, not ashamed

Good for her. I'm glad Borel came out swinging.

Oh, we're all allowed a few flings that are far beneath us. Or at least, we're all guilty of it, at some point or another.

I think you mean Schrödinger's scat, ;)

Are you saying it's Schrödinger's Poop?

Can we make "well, goddamn Myrtle" the new "bye Felicia"?

VonQueso, your original post and comments should be gathered together into one piece and mainpaged under a picture of the bulldog sitting on the air mattress in front of the grandfather clock. You're giving a uniquely grunty, gonging perspective from the potpie fringe of this Thanksgiving in American history. I'm…

We went to my sister's in-laws parents house and it was apparently the year Grandma fully slipped her noodle. We walk in. It smells like turkey. So far, so good? Then we hear Grandma has decided against turkey. We are having chicken. We think, "Oh, ok, roast chicken can be pretty good." She brings out the bird. It is…

I'm lucky, my parents and inlaws get along very well and we generally all just want to stuff ourselves, play with the babies and lie around watching movies. But my mother relates the Thanksgiving of 1961, when my great-grandmother came to dinner.

I was released from the hospital this morning having been treated for non-responsive double pneumonia. The highlight of this Thanksgiving was showering the hospital stink off of me and eating a tuna sandwich while I looked at all the bruising on my arms from days worth of IVs.

A Thanksgiving curse is the only explanation for my long and elaborate history of Thanksgiving traumas. A few of my greatest hits:

I think tomorrow's "thanksgiving" with the in-laws will be my worst.