Yeah. That’s the reason.

Too late for me!

I say that every godDAMN time I see someone wailing about the Confederate flag. “WHAT ABOUT THE ‘REGULAR’ FLAG??!” I usually yell, only to get silence in return.

It wasn’t in the blink of an eye—it was just the fact that it was “local” politicians that were big time small time dicks. Now we have a real small time dick going to the White House (well, okay, he’ll mostly be in the White House).

That looks like some shit I’d make up as part of a possible scam but then feel too ashamed to actually sell it to people.

I’ve done both! The first consciously (it was free!). The other, by accident. (I leaned back in my chair and whacked an extra tall co-worker in her lady parts. Her “Hey, now! You gotta pay for the privilege!” still makes me laugh.)

I’ve NEVER believed in it. I’ve always said that people are stupid, and will do things to fuck themselves, given half a chance.

I tried putting Sanders in Hillary’s place, and despite what the Berners say, I couldn’t see him winning, either. With this climate, I can’t see ANYONE but someone like Trumpy winning. Maybe Bill Clinton, but more than likely an LBJ. Someone who’ll play just as dirty as Trumpy, yet with a folksy demeanor. AND there…

I can. It’s something my mother defined as “They have you hating yourself.” Every child of color I saw with a white doll (I grew up in the 80s, there were plenty of non-white dolls, even cheap ones, by then) was part of the problem. Everyone who relaxed their hair so it’d be easier to comb/get along (seriously, have…

Chances are, he’ll pull something like that anyway.

I, for one, am hoping for a super duper uber-level riot that will put the fear of Satan in Trumpy and his various minions.

THEY ARE DUMB.

Yeah, there was. Hell, I said it. But then I looked at his background and said, “Meh. He’s better than the guy before him!”

Meh, fuck her then. Nobody’s taking her to task for using such asshatted phrases as “Bless your heart.” Crack a damn dictionary every once in a while.

I said it before, and I’ll say it again.

I would literally burn my hand off (and deal with the terrible vision of burned flesh!) if this somehow happened to me. I don’t even strike matches, yet I would strike a whole box in order to burn this monstrosity.

Ah, so that’s what it’s called! It’s also the reason why I can’t stand seeing clumps of white rice stuck to a pot. Holy fuck, it’s just unreasonably terrifydisgusting!

It’s a terrible purse that people in my HS thought was the shit (early 90s). I’m not paying (inflated price) for a purse that looks JUST LIKE the fake ones they sell at the flea market for $10. (Those were ugly as fuck too.)

I’m trying to figure out how old these friends are—I saw it in the theatres at 8 (whoo, breasts!), so either these folks are way younger, not up on popular movies, or think that 1983 never existed.

I did, but I was a music geek and it was the 80s, so I guess it wasn’t that unusual to know those songs. Maybe it was, and I just didn’t care.