Wait... people manually masterbate Welsh Ponies? Why wouldn’t they just collect them using a dummy mare, like they do with horses?

I’ve got a house. As long as he is available to give me a ride to the airport on occasion, doesn’t mind vacuuming, and can lift heavy objects, I can let it slide.

I’m incredibly sorry that I know this, but RR’s ex-husband has been on VH1 Family Rehab lately talking about how Aaliyah was the only woman he’s ever loved, and he hasn’t been able to feel close to anyone (including his family) since she died - which was way before they were married. So I’m guessing Bey might be aware…

Mmmm, I love malt vinegar on fries. Hello, future husband’s ex-wife!

Actually, all accredited zoos have mandatory, daily enrichment programs which observe, measure and record empirical, scientific data related to the comfort and happiness of their animals. See: www.enrichment.org

As a certified animal behaviorist, I can categorically state that accredited zoos go above and beyond any efforts we as pet owners make to keep our domestic animals happy. See: www.enrichment.org for a comprehensive overview of common (and uncommon/brilliant!) enrichment practices which are implimented daily at zoos…

This was my mother’s story - two young children, pregnant with an IUD - except it was 1973, just a couple of months after Roe v. Wade. Her husband was in the throes of addiction, and in the span of only six months, both of her parents had recently passed away in their early 60's. My brother was six, I was three, and I…

This is heartbreaking, eye-opening (“elective procedure,” my ass!) and beautifully written. Thank you for sharing your story. It deserves/needs to be published and disseminated far and wide.

Except in cases when they are wealthy, and especially if they are wealthy AND famous, which he still is (for now).

Except that it shouldn't matter, so it kind of is.

In other words, “my dating pool.”

Begging to be an approved commenter is an excellent strategy.

I will accept a limp dick over incessant talking, EVERY DAY OF THE FUCKING WEEK.

I have often thought about two kids in my class who always liked to draw scenes of bloody carnage and write horrifically violent stories for class assignments, and how they would be treated nowadays (when kids are arrested for building a clock) as opposed to in the ‘80’s (when they were just sort of given the side-eye…

The exact same thing happened to me with a bottle of vodka in a bag in my closet, except my mom was the originator of “don’t ask don’t tell,” and she just said, “I cleaned your closet for you, everything except whatever’s in that bag.” I basically never got in trouble, and this whole post is making me realize how much…

I remember a friend getting in huge trouble in 2nd grade for asking a teacher what a “blow job” was. We were SEVEN. I always wonder if teachers who do things like that to innocent little kids go home and look at themselves in the mirror at night and cry.

I believe this story, because I made out with a guy who used to do things like that at my HS reunion, and I haven’t talked to him since.

People thought the same about OJ once. Keep hope alive.