I'm not a single mother but I would date the fuck out of a nice guy who could provide 20 years of love, companionship and general decency. Having dated my share of morons and assholes, a good man is worth waaaaayyy more than you might think. Not every woman wants children, by the way (I don't). Good luck — you sound…

Mine involves a very visible back brace (complete with neck armor), being a 6ft tall female at age 12, and a last name that conjures insults of the defecatory variety. That I lived through it still astonishes me.

Accordian would suck, too.

If you live in Toronto, then I will be there with bells on! I have been down on myself so much and it's weirdly good to know that I am not the only one who's feeling the same way. As for that trainer, I agree: punch to the armpit would do nicely.

How much money did you give them?

The all-too-preciously-named baby that they will conceive during this World Tour of Douchery. I can only imagine the abomination that they'll name this poor child.

At the very least, a tropical illness that makes Cheetah lose his man-bun. That's not too much to ask, is it?

Every time I star someone, Kinja kicks me out. Grrrr.

You are me, I am you — we are that much alike. And, by the way, more people — more women — are like us than they are like Serena, as divine as she is. I hope that you hang onto the humour (mixed with anger and hurt, I realize) that you express in this post because it will carry you through a lot, my dear one.

If, by "sex instructor", you mean that he'll repulse me to point where I will no longer have, want or remotely think about sex again, then he's likely a success in his chosen field.

What's really gross is that she's all freaked out by the lack of a toilet seat, but she's put her bits on/near/around that thug-husband's bulky dick. THAT is what I would be worrying about...imagine the cooties!!

Plus, he was pretty good in Training Day. And he has allowed himself to age like a human being, instead of filling his face-cracks with rubber goo, like certain other actors (I'm looking at you, Travolta).

Today, I was called a "fat fucking bitch" by a woman in the grocery store after my shopping cart bumped hers. This, following feeling particularly lard-y when showering and getting dressed. Fortunately, I settled in to Jezebel tonight and was treated to the gorgeous pics and words of Rebel Wilson. Who gives zero…

My brother-in-law is incapable of pushing closed any drawer, ever. My sister has a permanent bruise on her hip from crashing into open drawers while walking into a dimmed kitchen. He also thinks it's unnecessary to flush the toilet if he's only urinated. That one makes me retch.

If you're an idiot for doing that, then so am I. Give it a good wash, rinse it well and the end.

Another candidate: "That's what she said."

Right. At least the pool piss I encounter now is from the bladders of the elite. That makes a difference somehow. I am a sad individual.

Agreed! The YWCA here is $80/month which I think is ridiculously steep and there are always cranky babies pissing in the pool and in the change rooms. The hoity-toity private gym four doors down is $40/month and it's adults only. There might still be pissing but at least not by toddlers.

I have been hoping for a fatality of a spectacular variety every time I watch a Youtube video where a kid attempts what passes for parkour in Boise. So far, no luck. I think your chances of ending up paralyzed from the ears down might be greater. Then, you'd be a hunk of meat with no way out. No, thanks.

On "Oz", Tobias Beecher filed his nails into lethal points, and used them to open the throat of a white supermacist hack played by that big blond guy on "Coach". I would think that you could use such nails to shred your own throat and lance the carotid. Biting them into deadly points would take longer, but where are…