I was due to have a Sagittarius baby and wanted to name him Archer but call him Archie. I hate the name Archibald but love the name Archie.

My grandmother on my dad’s side lived independently, mind as sharp as a tack, until the day she died of a stroke in her late 80s (we don’t know her exact birth year). She cooked, grocery shopped, took care of her house, met up with friends. She even traveled cross-country by herself for two months the summer before…

Word. Bernie Sanders supporters still so convinced they’re right and everyone else is wrong that they are still whining about it on Twitter? Check.

Exactly. It seems like my takeaway from this is that I should somehow feel more ashamed and embarrassed about my body because I didn’t “earn” my imperfections through childbirth.

It doesn’t benefit those of us without children who just have flabby, stretch-marked, cellulite covered bodies. In fact it seems to imply that we should feel even more ashamed that we didn’t “earn” the right to have a body like that because we didn’t have babies.

It’s also, shall I say, interesting for those of us with bulges and stretch marks that didn’t come from being warrior mommies or whatever they want to call it. We get the not-so-subtle hint that we didn’t “earn” those imperfections and should therefore be deeply ashamed of them.

Stuck in Groundhog Day her in Chicago. It snows, then melts just enough to freeze into a hard shell of ice everywhere as soon as the sun goes down, then it rains and becomes puddles over the hard shell of ice, then freezes over and becomes a total ice rink. Then it snows again and conceals the icy spots just enough to…

I agree. I work for myself, at home, and for the most part I LOVE it. But I work more than I ever did before, and there are definitely things I hate about it. However, compared to my last office job, which was so straight out of Office Space, it was spooky, my current situation is heaven. I stayed at that job 7.5…

Same. Same. Same. My rescue was destined for life as a puppy mill mom. But lucky for her and me, her first owners got bored before she went into her first heat. I got the sweetest more adorable and loving little being I could possibly imagine knowing. How anyone could see $$$ when they look at her and nothing…

You made it way further than I did. The second the asshole owner put the chain around the dog’s next I was openly sobbing.

Oh, god, now I’m crying again.

I’m the same way! I know some people who can’t bear to watch people being hurt, but for me it’s animals. If someone hurts an animal in any way during a movie or show, I can’t continue.

Oh, it will if you haven’t already found out. Ugly, shaking sobs. I scared my dog, who then came over and licked my tears, which made me cry even harder.

I just ugly cried through the whole video and beyond thinking all those same things. My dog came over and licked my tears away, which made me cry even more. I hate people who abuse animals.

So incredibly narcissistic. If he cared about the country, he wouldn’t be doing this. It’s just a giant ego trip for him, no matter who pays the price.

Wife on Mars can speak for me too. And voted for Bernie last time around.

Hard pass.

Gack. Ya’ll can have all the stuff. The cookie is the only edible part of oreos. Honestly, Annie’s chocolate bunny grahams taste like the cookie part of oreos anyway.

I know it’s not PC to think that homophobes are really just self-loathing gay people who are venting their frustration on the very people they wish they were. But damn, it sure is bizarre how frequently you hear stuff like this. This week alone was a gay conversion therapist coming out and a 90-something homophobic…

And another thing. I’ve ALWAYS been invisible to most men. And I know movies and books and TV and magazines would have everyone believing that us ugly ducklings are never going to have sex or fall in love or be happy or feel good about ourselves until we lose weight, get makeovers and have as much plastic surgery as…