That’s interesting. I remember reading somewhere about a year ago that back in the 1970s, some models or Playboy bunnies were warned about Bill Cosby and told to stay away from him because he was dangerous. Since they couldn’t do anything to stop him, they just tried to keep others safe. It’s a really sad and fucked…

To be fair, lots of companies are requiring slogans on T’s during the holidays. Like at Bloomingdale’s all the staff has to wear a shirt that says “Roofie my drink when I’m not looking”. It’s tongue in cheek.

“I read these stories on your blog almost every day, and I have to say that the way healthcare is handled in the US frightens the life out of me.”

I read these stories on your blog almost every day, and I have to say that the way healthcare is handled in the US frightens the life out of me.

For children’s books? Jesus wept. Flimsy excuse. That “but it’s reality” excuse gets SO tired and ridiculous when people try to apply it to things like children’s books, sci-fi, fantasy, action.... Historical realism is just the wrong excuse to fall back on when you make the rules of the world!

Right? Women are not a ‘special interest group’ or a ‘diversity checkbox’— we’re 50% of humanity, mothafuckaz!

When an author writes a male scientist, he’s just writing a scientist: But when he writes a female scientist, he’s making a statement.

Who would’ve thunk aliens dressed like Vegas showgirls?

The entire world is looking to the White House.

Catalan is its own language.

There is Spanish and there is Catalan. There isn’t Spanish Catalan

TL:DR: My family cause scenes at cousin’s funeral, a 14 year old girl stops a riot, and family gets banned from Funeral Parlour.

Attended a Spanish/Mexican funeral with my mother of some distant relative that I didn’t know but we had to go to “represent the family”. We walk into a huge funeral home lobby and see a little sign that indicated our service was happening in east wing with another occurring in the west wing. So we walked to the left…

My family originates from Irish peasant stock, which contributes to a somewhat no-nonsense attitude to death. When I was about six, my grandfather died in Ireland. Far-flung sons, daughters and their families gathered for the funeral.

Oh GOD, I’ve just remembered the one my sister told me about the boy she had a crush on at High School. Bear with me, it’s a long one. It’s also a wee bit painful.

So, this story is about my shitty, now-estranged, asshole of a dad and his piss-poor behavior at my brother’s (his son’s) funeral.

My mom died three years back while I was still in college so I flew home for the funera and my extended family drive in from surrounding towns the day of. My aunt runs her own wedding cake business so she does some flower arranging and photography for her weddings as well, which will come into play in a second. So the…

My Grandfather suffered a major stroke one day at the local car wash.

When my son passed away, he was 14 months old and a friend had brought his young daughter up from KY for the funeral. It was late January and she had never seen snow so she started doing snow angels and playing in the snow at the cemetery. The other kids who were there were looking at their parents for the same…

Alright, I obviously was not there, but this is one of the best funeral/memorial stories I’ve heard to date: