Saturday stuff

1. Sing show tunes
2. Go to the gym
3. Troll pants-wetting cretins who don't know the difference between the Salem witch trials and The Crucible

And we're back!

When he's not grabbing pussy, blaming everyone for his catastrophic failings or screaming FAKE NEWS! every time he doesn't get his way, Bachelor #2 enjoys concocting meaningless catchphrases and desperately searching for validation everywhere he can find it.

Tucker Carlson sure knows a lot about gay beaches

Tucker Carlson always looks like you threw the ball but he didn't actually see it leave your hand so he's not sure if he should run and try to fetch it.

It's like she WANTS us to attack her personally

Flashback Friday: Passing the Baton Edition

Seven years ago, I ran a 200-mile, 36-hour baton relay with 12 people, two vans, three pair of shoes, one shower in a high school at the halfway point, fitful sleep, and a big glorious mix of challenge and determination and pain and euphoria and friendship and encouragement and accomplishment and unbridled joy. 

And I both totally and never want to do it again.

Crooked H?

How is destroying a phone with a hammer obstruction? You're never gonna make "bleached emails" happen. Your AG apparently can't remember the last time he went to the bathroom, but he definitely knows he didn't talk about Russia in two meetings he doesn't remember being in. And I'd enjoy watching your arrogant delusions come crashing down and eating you alive a whole lot more if you hadn't stolen my rap name.

Is this mean,

 

I'm letting my hair and possibly my beard grow out for Billy Elliot

In the past, people have told me I look like Wolverine when I've gotten all scruffy and fluffy like this. Despite the fact that I've never seen a Wolverine movie, I take this as high praise. In fact, my ex agreed to be boyfriends as long as I honored his get-out-of-this-relationship-for-free clause in the event Hugh Jackman showed up at our door in a towel. I'm embarrassed to say that I chose Nick Lachey -- WHO WAS SEXY AND RELEVANT AT THE TIME -- for my escape clause. But it didn't matter in the end; it was Patti LuPone who broke us up.

Anyway! My trainer just put me through a brutal back workout and I'm all but oozing sweat through my paint-spattered shirt from my college newspaper so I took a selfie in front of my gym's breaker box because that totally completed the uncanny Wolverine resemblance I'd achieved. But as I said, I've never seen a Wolverine movie so for all I know he didn't work at his college paper, didn't sloppily paint his sister's house or didn't go to a gym painted the color of microwaved mangoes. Nevertheless, you still have my full permission to tell me I look like Wolverine.

Mr. Paul:

I don't even want to understand the vile psychopathy that caused you to think -- much less tweet to the world -- your Second Amendment justification to "shoot at the government" a year ago almost to this day. But you are the majority party of a president who just ten months ago called upon "Second Amendment people" to silence his political rivals ... the majority party of a president who blithely, recklessly bragged last year that "I could stand in the middle of 5th Avenue and shoot somebody and I wouldn't lose voters" ... a majority party who works resolutely to dismantle and obstruct gun-control legislation that might very well have prevented what happened to you and your colleagues today. Your words to "shoot at the government" are as appalling as the quite literal shooting at the government this morning that you now describe as "a killing field — it’s really sick and very sad."

Really sick. Very sad.

I lost a friend in a violent terrorist attack. I lost a friend in a violent assault. I am haunted by the violent mass murders at Sandy Hook Elementary School and Pulse nightclub and countless other terrifying, preventable massacres. I don't wish violence and murder even on people for whom I have a visceral loathing. And I have a visceral loathing for you. For repeatedly -- proudly -- placing more importance on your party's interpretation of the Second Amendment and on the gun lobby and on allowing increasingly unrestricted access to assault weapons than on the safety and the very lives of our citizens. For recklessly inciting people through your position of influence and privilege to "shoot at the government." For having the gall to be shocked and appalled when the time bomb you helped build all but literally exploded in your hands this morning when an obviously disturbed man with obviously easy access to an assault weapon followed your charge and shot at the government. At you. At all of us.

Really sick. Very sad.

Measurably preventable. Immeasurably infuriating.

Irreparably heartbreaking.

Too soon? Too late.

53 years

In the midst of our country's paralyzing uncertainty, I want to take a moment commemorate a ray of enduring joy: My parents are celebrating their 53rd wedding anniversary today. Like their parents before them, they continue to set a quiet example of unbridled altruism and unquestioning kindness, whether they're securing food, clothing and shelter for people in need; providing comfort and care for sick friends and strangers alike; prioritizing their lives around the needs and activities of their grandchildren; taking in their broken son and working fiercely to repatriate him through endless ups and downs; or simply providing a freshly baked pie for someone in need of delicious homemade goodness. They face challenges like my dad's blindness head-on, invite lonely people to join us for Christmas dinner and good-naturedly endure constant ribbing from their children. The example they set for us is so genuine and so high that I fear I can never do it justice in the way I live my life. They love us unconditionally and we gratefully love them back. I'm proud to call them my parents and I'm thrilled that I can laud them publicly so the people who are important to me can celebrate their anniversary with us.

I'm pretty sure someone you know spent the day lying by omission too

In fact, he dodged whole sessions of questions.

Attention, thieves:

If you want to steal my jumper cables or my ice scraper or my emergency hat and mittens, just hang out by my trunk for a while; my car is now apparently equipped with intermittent trunk locking and my trunk pops open at regular intervals without any effort on my part. It's quite efficient. Kinda like the intermittent air bag system I used to have that's now fully disabled or maybe fully enabled because my air bag light is on all the time. I don't know if that means my air bag is completely broken or completely working, but the two dashboard lights sure look pretty when they're on together. Oh -- and be sure to grab the box when you steal my jumper cables; it has the directions printed on the back and I'd hate to see you short-circuit something in your car and trip your dashboard lights so they never turn off. Because that's really ghetto.

"It makes me nervous."

It turns out that pretending to forget everything that ever happened to you is extra-annoying when you lie it with a Southern elf accent.

Multiple question marks? His narcissistic delusions are escalating.

You are so easy to ridicule that I feel obligated to tell you that "ridicule" means "make fun of"

Dude.

You're so desperate for any shred of proof that you're not a catastrophic implosive failure that you not only watch accredited political analyst Geraldo Rivera handicapping the inevitability of your impeachment on a fake news channel -- not even pausing long enough to comprehend the subtext that EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT YOUR IMPEACHMENT -- but you immediately retweet the story as some sort of de facto A-List celebrity endorsement of your honor and integrity and innocence without comment, context or insight, as though that's all you need to do to end the discussion once and for all.

Do you ENJOY being made fun of by a big ol' gay guy every day on Facebook, Twitter and his blog? Because I can keep this up longer than you can.

Today in Stupid: "Not expecting"?

Pity the whiny little liar here

The laughably manipulative poor-little-professional-victim daughter of "Lock her up!" and "Obama's a Muslim" and "Grab her by the pussy" and "total Muslim ban" man-boy is either catastrophically stupid or she's desperately hoping you are.

So are you, Trump supporters?

We at LEAST deserve a president who lies grammatically so our dumb people are manipulated correctly

I don't know why, but for some reason I'm in a Broadway mood tonight