Your description of morally better children from secular homes is mirrored by my son. Our home, however, is not strictly secular. I and my (recently-became-ex) wife kept a Jewish home, but one more rooted in identity than religious worship. My son — while attending a Jewish religious school — chose atheism in 3rd…

I bought a new 1996 Kia Sephia, while living in Israel (before they were bought by Hyundai, got significantly reengineered, and came to the US). When I picked it up from the dealer, there was an annoying rattle coming from behind the dashboard which mechanics could not get rid of for another 3 years. Also, when the…

I really enjoyed that.

I had something similar on Monday: a cheeseburger w/ good cheese, topped with a roasted poblano pepper. very tasty.

You replaced bread crumbs with Doritos and still added extra spices? And this was on top of using enough bullion to make a quart of chicken stock???

That furry thing on his head doesn’t count?

Shouldn’t we be saying Eric Carle’s Caterpillar-like penis? For all we know, Carle might actually be hung like an elephant.

q

Westbury, south of Braeswood.

I live in Houston. However, I live in one of the city’s few ‘restaurant deserts.’ Checking Google Maps, I learned that I live in proximity to Papa John’s, Domino’s, and Pizza Huts (2+ of each of them), and not a single family-owned or local small-format chain place. I recently struck pizza off my dining menu,…

The misery! This is simply heart-wrenching!!!

So, how you doin’?

meese.

That’s good, though. It means your panic will be very short-lived.

Yeah! Fuck that kid!

It’s nice to know that a sentient animal’s only true purpose in life is to be a lackey to some human. And that it has to keep going through reincarnations until it displays the requisite amount of boot-licking fealty.

Let bosoms reign?

Agreed. I have never heard of her, just as I had never heard of Jackie Evancho. This inauguration is shaping up to be these has-beens/wanna-bes’ big moment in the sun.

How about Hamlet? Or Ribsy?

I am remarkably unsurprised that, in the course of analyzing the design of the shit-heap that is Homer’s car, the author referenced not one, but two cars my father owned. Dad is one of those guys who is a pure, unadulterated utilitarian when it comes to cars: does it get you from A to B? OK, then. Who cares what…