Here is my dog, Ruth Bader Dogburg.
JESUS TAP DANCING CHRIST.
Surely the counterpoint should be Stephen King narrating a sonogram.
OH SHIT. I can’t believe I forgot about this.
But, like, wouldn’t the smell of burning human flesh make the fire *not* pleasant to sit around?
I would like a t-shirt of this post, please.
It’s 1995. I’m 15. My dad is getting married to my stepmom. In preparation for the wedding, my stepmom’s mom has come to town. We don’t have a guest room so she’s is crashing on the couch.
Fuck this goddamn earwax sculpture brought to life by a discarded hairpiece.
I love you, Peter Nincompoop.
I. FUCKING. LOVE. GEORGE. MICHAEL. He was my first concert, for my 8th birthday. And then I saw him like 22 years later. I got into a fistfight at Girl Scout camp at the age of 9 with another girl about who, out of the two of us, would grow up and eventually marry George Michael. No regrets. His voice is AMAZING.
I found out I was pregnant with my 4th child after moving the kids and I to a DV shelter and filing for divorce. I did not go back. I worked two jobs, got our own place 6 months later, moved everything myself at 6 months pregnant, maintained a household, cared for my kids, went to every prenatal appt alone, got laid…
I’m happy. I didn’t care for the 4th season, but they know now what works and what doesn’t. There’s still plenty of meat left on this bone. You take this home, throw it in a pot, add some broth. A potato. Baby, you’ve got a stew goin’.
You’re right. You are absolutely, unequivocally right. I don’t know how to sort out my feelings on this. I am grateful that this person made birth control available to women but her motivation for doing so was not good. I don’t know how to reconcile this.
I *loved* him. He was my first concert. I was 8. In fact, it was a birthday gift to me-that I got to attend. My mom wasn’t sure if I was old enough to attend a concert so she called up my uncle; her younger, gay brother, to ask if it would be an appropriate environment for me. His response was an enthusiastic yes. I…
“Exalted Cyclops” is a real title one can earn?
Can we please post her message of Buddies, not Bullies like everywhere we can?
When I rewatched it as an adult, I could see that its appeal was directed at very young child me...but that it also contained elements of what I’d grow up to want to believe and to hope for about true love and relationships. Like, you could totally tell by watching this movie that LA Story would be my favorite movie…
Posting again to say, please, please let it be Kirk Cameron.
Oh, please, not George Lucas.
I loved (and still love) Dream A Little Dream.