What's especially funny to me is that as soon as I got up at the salon, I fucked up the polish on two of the nails, but decided to leave it rather than risk my own sloppy job, and it's white-ish polish, so it's not really that noticeable, I figured -- and I guess I was right?

"My friend just got fired," Deb said. And the cashier reached behind her and grabbed one of those 3-pack bricks of dark chocolate and dropped it in Deb's bag, saying, "Give her this. I find chocolate always helps."

Awww, yay random human kindness!

No wonder the fucking job was open for over a year. Fuckers.

Ooh, I figure that's usually a bad sign. Unless it's some sort of bizarro complicated job that only three people can really do and none of them want to relocate to Boise, it shouldn't be open that long...

OMG, my ex knows me very well, and just sent me this link for jewelry I think many Buffistas will also enjoy.

My favorite school supply was brand new notebooks. I still enjoy them.

I would admire the wives a heck of a lot more if they actually spoke up and said, "What a jackhole. I'm outtie." than I do when they just stand there, feigning interest but really killing them in their heads.

Or even if they were like "Fuck you, we MAY work this out, POSSIBLY, with a lot of counseling and GROVELING, but I'm not going to your damn press conference, and won't be seen in public with you for at least six months"

For those inclined to Easter gifties: [link]

also Heifer bunnies and/or chicks.

Or even if they were like "Fuck you, we MAY work this out, POSSIBLY, with a lot of counseling and GROVELING, but I'm not going to your damn press conference, and won't be seen in public with you for at least six months"

Dina McGreevey wrote for the NYT opinion page today on what it was like for her:

For me, I was essentially in the dark about what my husband was going to say. He never told me he was gay; he simply passed me a copy of his speech an hour before the press conference. I was in a fog. I certainly didn’t volunteer. I was in no emotional state to make a rational decision, and there simply wasn’t time. He asked me to stand next to him, and I did.

Frankly, all I was thinking about was my daughter. If I had to do it over again, I’d do the same thing. I did it for my daughter’s father.

eta: I hit post when a student walked into my office, before I got to say: It takes a special bastard to tell his wife by handing her a copy of what he's going to read to the press.

It takes a special bastard to tell his wife by handing her a copy of what he's going to read to the press.

Seriously. What a cowardly ass.

It takes a special bastard to tell his wife by handing her a copy of what he's going to read to the press.

That is some hard core fuckery right there.

"Hey, glance this over, will ya?"

"It's a Post-It note. It says: 'Your life is crumbling around you'. What does it mean?"

"I like the cock."

Kat--maybe we can do lunch Friday? I'm pretty jammed up the rest of the week.

The guy two cubes down sent me an email titled "Very Fierce" and I don't want to read the rest of it.

It would be very convenient if more native English speakers could actually write in the language so I wouldn't have to ask for clarification--and it would be sensible if I didn't get self-conscious about it. Hrrm.

I did it for my daughter’s father.

How incredibly selfish of him to make her have to split him into two people, one of whom me has to be decent to.

Cuteness Alert!!!

Baby fox: [link]

Baby raccoon: [link]

Baby polar bear: [link]

Baby giraffe: [link] [link]

I did it for my daughter’s father.

I seriously need to stop reading about douchebag fathers right now.

What happens when penguins break into your house: [link]