Surely he doesn’t offer them free food or services and include his name and phone number. That would quickly become annoying on so many levels.

Presidents, they’re just like us!

These two articles were in today’s paper in our city, the most highly populated city in the state. I nearly ripped the paper into shreds with rage:

Who the heck is Stacey Dash and for chrissakes Miley enough with the tongue. Sorry not sorry just cranky.

I like the whole thing. It’s made clear that book generation is not a bear attack but a life-saving drug, resulting in a boomsday which required cleanup. I don’t know who or what that lady is in the picture has to do with anything.

A quick scan of the FB page shows that this is the SECOND meet up held by the group. Where are the photographs? The endless videos? You can’t tell me they don’t exist!

I send you a mazilliommns stars and a folding table with my starclick.

Indeed.

I see your picture of Barack Obama with a puppy and raise you a picture of him campaigning in a rainstorm, the moment I fell in love with him.

She looks so sweet. It’s probably just a misunderstanding.

I meant it in the most loving way. In the last fifteen years I have attended so many funerals that I now collect bizarre bits and share them with my like-minded friends. It makes attendance so much easier.

Honey,you might be a red neck. Bless your heart.

Even better, you (and I) have no desire to find out.

To borrow a phrase from the young ‘uns, I heart you so much.

Somebody better tell me what the hell they dosed Joan Baez with to get her onstage with Taylor Swift. Because I want some. Bad.

I decide which weddings I will attend by determining the amount of drama and/or tackiness that will be present. And I always give a cheap blender as a wedding present.

I’m just going to pop in here to announce that if Gawker Media wants me to read a story about or referring to Chris Brown, then it should probably be included in Dirt Bag and most certainly should be written by Bobby Finger. Otherwise, no clicks.

Oh fer chrissake, I was only now free of my New Yorker subscription addiction. Just buy the one hideously overpriced issue, I tell myself. And then...

The older Jaden gets, the more I want to slap that smirk off his face.

All the star .gifs in the fucking universe for you.