I dunno, all three suck. If my husband (or, hell, more likely, my wife) is cheating on me, I’m not going to the other woman. That’s between me and my wife. I don’t care if she knew that she was married. I care what my wife did. I’ve never understood going after the “other woman,” and I guess I never will.

Why do that when we can play the Perez Hilton game? (That’s supposed to be “jizz bucket.”)

Heh. I got shitcanned because I went on a rant about House, saying that it was the same fucking thing every goddamn week and how is this guy the doctor of anything? There may have been a Three Stooges reference or two thrown in. The mods asked why I was so harsh, and I said “It’s Television Without Pity!” I mean, I…

Huh. You too? That’s why so many babies like me! They liked me when I was a toddler, they like me now as an old-ass 42-year-old. This also means that men still hit on me, even the ones I say “I’m old enough to be your mama!” to...

Now you know better than that. She might leave the parsley and a few crumbs, but eat all the dessert. (Insert Weight Watchers joke here.)

Reading the rest of these comments, it doesn’t seem like there should be many (if any) women having ANY sort of sex with men. (Or women.) There doesn’t seem to be many folks who know “no means NO!” reading these replies.

But they’d do the most expensive one. Because doctors. (Of course, since she’s a waitress, she’d probably have no/shitty insurance, so they’d just tell her to go die and leave the doctorin’ to people who can pay.)

In HS, instead of doing whatever we were supposed to be doing in an art class, the teacher mentioned that there was a fallout shelter around the corner. Since this was 1992, we didn’t find that too earth-shattering, but what we did find were WWII rations, just as neatly packaged as if it were 1942. No one was stupid…

Whenever they have a “buy canned goods for the needy” campaign at the supermarket, people are always surprised when we choose (or try to) the least salty/terrible thing to donate.

Well, yeah...so can I, but it gets harder and harder to get phendimetrazine! ;-)

So you’re that sports ball player guy that had “He Hate Me” on the back of his jersey?

Late to the party, but I remember my mother not even having to tell me she’d died. The look on her face and some weird mother/daugher telepathy happened, and I just blurted out “Amy Winehouse just died.” We’d gone down the YouTube rabbit hole, and there was one video of her in a police station (??), where she’s just so…

Fine. Let us just do what we were made for: fucking and forgetting (and maybe cooking and childbirth...oh, and we’re also good for blaming!)

I didn’t mind the gossip or the Alban Berg. What I found interesting is that I didn’t hear anything about his own bisexuality—or at least that’s what my piano teacher told me 20 years ago. He brought it up again on his (kinda) deathbed, along with handwritten letters from Samuel Barber.

Dude, just call him the “n-word” and be done with it. In Trump’s Amerussia, ain’t nobody gonna stand in your way!

Any time my co-workers hear an out-of-tune caterwauling around the office, they look my way. I usually have a pained expression on my face as I’m trying to figure out what key they’re currently murdering. You don’t have to be able to “sing” to sing along, but goddamn, A is A. A is not A#, G# or whatever new tonality…

Ah, but the best somehow (SOMEHOW!!!!!) manage to rap OFF KEY, missing every single possible pitch, creating tones smaller than microtones, and have such a monotone voice that even I could rap better. STOP with the monotone rapping! In fact, just stop, period. Yes, YOU, the wannabe Tupac on the Red Line to the…

Why are they eating at McDonald’s anyway? Everyone knows that your kids should only be on a semi-strict diet so that they don’t get fat in the first place. A chubby baby is an unhealthy baby!

Well, she could’ve acted up and gave them what they really wanted. RIP.

Nah, they already used it for cooking.