$100 says she is an Instagram influencer.

nah, i want to keep going. the president of women who answer to the name “meemaw”. the president of people who do their grocery shopping at Menard's.

That’s the same feeling i used to get watching his batshit-crazy debate performances (oh good! everyone can see he’s a babbling, incoherent windbag!) and look where that got us. I hope you’re right but I’m still shitting bricks over here.

God willing there is a lame-duck period.

Yeah, his lame-duck period is going to be fucking painful... and likely filled with much more openly racist and sexist scrolls being posted to twitter 24 hours a day.

But even with the understanding of the false equivalence, it’s still a shitty answer. White people shouldn’t be getting unnecessarily killed by police either.

You know, they could just brush a cat, slap the fur on a set of trucknutz and hang them over a baggy suit and red necktie on Fox and the MAGAtards wouldn’t even know the difference.

That stupid woman does not seem to realize she is painting the yellow letter black? She doesn’t realize that it will still read BLACK LIVES MATTER after she’s done? I guess she’ll step back at some point and go, “DOH!

it is obvious her goal was to have Christian arrested, not killed.

You know what? That means our girl Farrah was born in 1978 and that means she was likely named after Farrah Fawcett. Her mama dreamed too big.

NASCAR will still wave the Confederate flag to signal the start of the last lap though, as is tradition.

NASCAR driver Ray Ciccarelli, who’s so incensed by this politically correct bullshit that he’s taking his bigoted ball and going home.

When it was clear a shut down was coming, I went into my favorite local place and bought a $200 gift certificate for myself. The owner wasn’t there but her dad, who runs the place in her absence, was. He’s a sweet old man and we talk all the time when I’m in there to eat lunch and hang out and grade papers. He asked…

The last night of service before our shutdown, a woman at one of my tables left a $200 tip. I almost started ugly-crying.

“tip what you can afford”

Ha ha ha! I saw this one polo-shirt-wearing snap-back-hat jerk stretching out with his WTF-iron and I said to myself, “Self, what would a busy-body white lady do in this instance?” and I pulled out the old cell phone and called the po po

I did a reverse Becky/Karen today! O yes I did!

Or, as told by a former friend of mine, a server may sneak away with a wholly untouched meal that you left on the table and just scarf it down like a goblin while hiding from management.

To be really fair, this sounds like the sort of situation where if you absolutely had to speak to the manager, you had four or even five days before your reservation date to call and make sure they were going to be open.