So god dammed accurate.

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At what age can I be trusted to have a glass of water by my bed and not spill it? Because I guess it’s not 55.

Thank you to clothing stores that have fans in the changing rooms. I can play supermodel and not melt into a fucking puddle! #winwin

I’m streaming Alfred Hitchcock Presents. I hadn’t remembered that 90% of the plots are just the protagonist trying to off their spouse for money.

I mean, we’ve known for decades that Mel Gibson is a lunatic and a POS but I guess it’s good he reminds us from time to time.

I just checked and he doesn’t have a cover photo, so yeah at least it’s down. But that’s disturbing. I followed him to keep an eye on him.

What in the absolute fuck?

*sigh*

I’ve caught myself involuntarily winking at dogs several times lately. I don’t know what we have planned but I’m here for it.

Since Lucy was dispensing psychiatric help was she also prescribing medications? Was the last minute retraction of the football the action of a mean little girl or exposure therapy meant to assist Charlie in coping with the inevitable disappointments life brings?

I’m not interested in the bag but where do I get salted pretzel gloves?!?!

My Black Friday tradition is to reply “stop” to all the promotional text messages that have come in during the last 48 hours.

Et tu, Santa?

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