From my 7th month of pregnancy on I couldn’t feel my fingers. I could move them just fine but you could’ve chopped one off and I wouldn’t feel it. I regained feeling when my kid was 5 months old or so.

Nah, they used to live back home in Tupiniquim land and now they’re technically closer. *Shudder* I have no powers, otherwise they’d be living in, like, China now.

My insufferable brother-in-law and his even more insufferable wife have recently moved to Palo Alto, so to me Bumfuck, Deep South > Palo Alto.

I see your “yummy” (which is an abomination) and raise you “yum”. Whenever I hear it I automatically imagine the grossest things ever.

I don’t think he knows he has to do anything in order to satisfy a woman. He’s probably one of those bros who think boning him is all it takes.

Eh, I could take it or leave it. It IS a classic as far as most-hated words are concerned though.

Yup, I wish I were joking but it really happened. I was 9 months pregnant and a co-worker who hadn’t seen me in a while sounded amazed as she said “oh my, look at you! You’re positively disfigured!” and then, after asking whether it was a boy or a girl and getting confirmation that it was a girl she just nodded and…

As someone who was called “disfigured” toward the end of my first pregnancy this is my reaction upon reading Yvette’s words:

You should pitch to the Jezebel team a daily column - your posts are as good a roundup of the weirdness around the interwebz as we’ll ever get!

Not more than mommy. I think that’s my most hated word, along with veggies.

I think we’ll have access to the names soon enough, no? Then we’ll be able to tar and feather the “dems” who voted for this.

What disgusts me the most is to think how smug Ryan and Hair Furher will be on Twitter and the press after this shit show. Oh, and also that thousands will probably die if this becomes law.

God better not fuck up with my Mirena!

The whip is the congressperson responsible for persuading and keeping score of votes. At least that’s what House of Cards and The West Wing have taught me.

You are all of us.

Seconding Bobby,

Reading this description of purchase heaven enabled by disposable income my only advice is: ladies, don’t get married and (most importantly) don’t procreate. For ost women that’s when such consumerist fun flies out the window.

And yet magically none of it matters. Not his age, not his inability to complete a sentence, not a vague and hyperbolic doctor’s note from Dr. Feelgood... He just gets a pass.

Yup, it seems none of the rules of politics applied to him (and still don’t apparently). Being a white middle age man pandering to the stupidest voter base has its perks too.

I think that when the divisions in the democratic party were still alive and kicking after the convention, and Bernie supporters were still making noise I had this passing (horrifying) feeling she wasn’t gonna win. I distinctly remember sitting at my kitchen table looking at 538's numbers for that day or that week or…