slipdisco
slipdisco
slipdisco

One day we’ll live in a utopia where rich male and female, black and white people will all get an equal opportunity to shit all over the poor together. The productivity will be amazing.

Not really following this saga, but I have a theory as to why they’re all getting bitchy...maybe they’re HUNGRY?

Stein’s point about green energy is actually completely accurate. So much of the U.S.’s military-industrial complex is centered around controlling foreign sources of oil, along with our funding of Saudi princes who treat their people like cattle and from whose ranks came people whose oil money funded terrorists who

You have been my favorite Jezebel writer pretty much since you arrived, but I have to say that I’m disappointed in the disingenuous character assassination you’re waging against Jill Stein. Continuing to perpetuate the falsehood that she’s anti-vax when she has clarified multiple times that she is 100% not and was

Hillary needs every vote she can get twice.

Dude, it’s like fucking homework now.

It’s the new puritanism.

The Jez generation have been trained to parse every image and utterance for transgression against the new orthodoxy. This goes for everything from old TV shows to family photos to commercials to whatever you put in front of them. They can’t just switch it off. It’s always running, it’s reflex.

And the Democrats are all Russia-baiting like some sort of 50s caricature.

I run a non-profit focused on putting googly eyes on fleshlights, so they might start.

The treatment of women and minorities in fiction isn’t real. People react to it as if it is. This, specifically, is what is being criticized here, not art criticism. Complaining about what happens in a work of fiction isn’t art criticism, it’s entitled fandom bullshit.

But by focusing on fake problems and even making up problems allows me to not focus on real problems in the world.

Dude deserves a medal not a prison sentence.

bye bye

his much-vaunted fart machine?

Fuck. That. Last thing I need is some robot giving me a mechanical snatch, turning my G spot into a 4G spot and having people pirate Game of Thrones through my hoo ha.

I guess this is the ultimate test of the adage, “would you trust a mechanic that never owned a car?”

The best love poetry, in my book, is the collection of unpublished (in his lifetime) love letters from the wonderfully dirty James Joyce to his wife, Nora.