“How many more of Bill Cosby’s sexual assault victims need to come out before he can be shipped off to some island inhabited by giant, bloodthirsty tarantulas? 50? 100?”

I feel like Liz. Her husband is terrifyingly creepy... but I still want to bang him. It’s the worst combination EVER.

AND, Blazing Saddles is subtle and nuanced compared to having a Native woman squatting and peeing and smoking a peace pipe. It actually portrays and lampoons racism. And the only “native’ characters speak Yiddish, which unlike having characters with names like “Beaver’s Breath”, is actually “ridiculous”.

Vanilla Ice? They picked the WRONG ‘90s white rapper.

Funny People had potential to be excellent but it was way too fucking long and loaded with the most blatant, indulgent Apatow pandering. That scene where Adam and his boys sing John Lennon’s ‘Real Love’ is a good example of how wretchedly sentimental it was, also that scene where Leslie Mann’s character makes Sandler…

I’m kind of not? I mean, I am, because Netflix has released some great programming, but just a few months ago they released the festering hellscape that is a live-action Richie Rich TV show that I don’t recall anyone asking for. Also recently, Netflix boasted that they would be releasing about 20 new pieces of…

They are both poets and wordsmiths of the highest order. I don’t see your problem?

You have a gift, Anna.

The real Mark Twain plays the role of “dead man doing barrel rolls in the grave forever”

wait i’m sorry

I think a lot of women will have two different stories depending on how you define “dude”. The first time I noticed boys my age checking me out, it was in fifth grade at the Halloween party. I had changed out of my triple sized sweatshirt meant to hide my boobs into my grandma’s fitted, orange lace dress from the…

This story isn’t directly mine, but it sure as hell influenced how I dealt with men.

I doubt anyone will see this but here goes:

Ugh - I’d have to say mine was being cat-called on my way home from middle school, maybe 7th grade? By grown-ass adult men. I started walking on the wooded paths after that instead of the street, and wearing more covering/baggy clothes. (Though I also had a kid who sat behind me in 9th grade social studies who liked…

I was 13. My figure, breasts and hips and all, just appeared overnight, but I was still the same tiny person, hiding behind a mop of hair, coke-bottle glasses, and a book. Didn’t mean anything to me. Not until a classmate who enjoyed teasing me (apparently it was really neat how red I blushed) took to pinching my butt…

I don’t remember specifically when I “came of age” i.e. started feeling like I was a woman. I was a C-cup by 7th grade and I remember lots of people telling me they thought I stuffed my bra. And I remember talking about needing to be thinner and being derided by other girls for “eating badly” i.e. eating anything. I…

I am ugly, weird and oblivious so I really didn’t notice much of anything beyond my extreme desire to be invisible (and mostly succeeding). I did have this moment of clarity in my mid-20’s - I was just on the cusp of dating my now-husband, and was at a party with a ton of friends. I realized that a few of my friends’…

i developed at 5th grade. girls hated me and boys wanted to be “my friend”

I think I was 12 or 13, and my family and I were in Costa Rica visiting my mom’s relatives. All the girls minus my grandma went out for some Christmas festivals in town, and I was allowed for the first time to stay out later than usual. Oh, and I had just gotten boobs. Big time. I noticed an older man (like 50s)…

The summer between 6th and 7th grades, when I suddenly had C cup breasts, two times within a week of each other: