I have been using that as the new litmus test to prune my Facebook friends. Folks who were otherwise silent but suddenly vocally saying it's POSSIBLE this was a false flag? Good-bye!
I have been using that as the new litmus test to prune my Facebook friends. Folks who were otherwise silent but suddenly vocally saying it's POSSIBLE this was a false flag? Good-bye!
Attorney General Garland is going to have a looooot of paperwork ahead of him. So many indictments.
How is a guy with a name like Enrique Tarrio in a white supremacy group? I really want to know.
frankly I just don’t think they have the guts to incite an actual civil war. At their cores they are opportunistic chickenshit bullies, meaning they will show up heavily armed (unironically waving confederate flags and maybe Nazi stuff too), strut around in front of the cameras and look tough, maybe set some stuff on…
He’s the same kind of guy that complains about how his daughter is growing up to be a real bitch just like her mom.
I also distinctly remember learning how to use a manual can opener to open a can of cranberry sauce for a Sunday dinner. My grandfather narrated the entire thing like it was a horse race and it was a victory when I made it all the way around the lid.
My parents did the same. But they cooked a lot of gross stuff and I've been a disordered eater/food waster since. So maybe it isn't a black/white issue?
Yeah, it’s so strange he seemed to think there were only two options: open the can for her or let her struggle, hungry for six hours.
When I was about eleven, my mother announced that henceforth she would no longer do my laundry. I would be responsible for my own clothing.. Bit of a problem, though. She gave me no instructions and oh yeah...the building we lived in at the time didn’t have a fucking laundry room. The laundromat was about fours blocks…
Teaching her how to do something can simply mean, you know, just showing her how to use a can opener. It takes 10 seconds and is a great lesson. In fact, no joke, I remember when my own dad showed me how to open a can of diced tomatoes. Guess what, it worked, because afterwards I always could open cans and am now a…
“And of course, Ponsetto would like the world to know that she isn’t the monster the video clearly shows her being.“
Well, it would be fine to raid a home of black folks and shoot up few of them.
Yikes. The banks get all the money? Does that poor Vanity Fair writer who was stiffed a year’s salary get anything?
“She cries. She wants to come home.”
This is, honestly, just classic hybristophelia. She “sees the real him”; she is involved with someone who cannot currently cheat on her, but she doesn’t need to actually do difficult relationship work; she’s the only one he really cares about, &etc...it’s sad, but really not that unusual.
For a bunch of reasons it would be a difficult case, and it probably won’t happen, but I would love to see this woman sue the New York Post over this. If Gawker deserved to be nuked over fucking Hulk Hogan, the New York Post damn sure deserves to go under for this garbage.
This reminds me of that adage: How to get a bikini body? Put a bikini on your body.
Saint Dolly was always the realest person in the room. Martha Stewart and a sizable portion of talk show hosts (not just the women hosts ) was biting Dolly’s style long before I could even make the friendly, bawdy, but subdued connection. Heck, she outshined Al Franken in the comedy department.
True story. In my hometown there was a crusty old guy that ran a clothing store. This guy was in the business for almost his whole life. He would drive into New York and buy the stuff by the truckload. Back in the eighties, I needed a trench coat and shopped in major stores in local malls. Finding everything waaaay…
In the early 80's I worked for a place that made women’s clothing for high end places. And the contracts always had a clause that said any excess material from the production run could be sold in the actual “factory outlet” shop the factory had. The only condition was that they had to have a special factory outlet…