I also refrained from pointing out that if she'd contracted Rubella during the time she'd been pregnant, her son might have been born blind, deaf and retarded.

Ayiyi non-logical people make my head hurt.

It might be unpleasant to hear, but it's polite, it's fair, and it's true.

Agreed.

It's a condescending thing to say. The reality is that she probably has been researching for a thousand hours or more. But she couldn't be using the scientific method, and is of course up to her ears in confirmation bias. What she's basically doing is trying to prove to people that the sun does not exist by not ever looking up and telling others to keep their heads down. It's. Right. Fucking. There. And even if you tackled her and made her look up, she'd claim it was some sort of vast conspiracy kind of illusion paid for by the pro-solar lobby and not something that is just there, and always was.

It's fucking infuriating.

At least the leaves really do have an end?

I have water oaks, which are "tardily deciduous" and semi-evergreen in the South. This means they lose their small, unrakeable and possibly evil leaves from September to March.

Dear Sister Cow: Police do have a sense of humor, but not on duty.

The antivaxxers don't seem to hesitate from spreading their craziness everywhere. I say go forth and interact. I probably would not take her on, either, but I frequently wish I was more of a dick.

OMG THIS APPLE BUTTER NEEDS TO BE DONE

Go ahead and eat some. It's applesauce.

Another way of changing the discussion is to say, "but the clear, solid, absolute scientific evidence is that there is no causation/correlation between vaccines and autism. You can continue beating that drum, but you're causing harm to others and distracting yourself from looking for other possible causes, which could lead to possible treatment/cures/prevention."

It likely won't budge her, but there are fence-sitters you can reach. I try to remember when engaging in these things that I'm actually talking to the fence-sitters.

I try to remember when engaging in these things that I'm actually talking to the fence-sitters.

Loving me some more Allyson over here.

Weekend is ending with puking, feverish child. Thank god she's the most docile patient ever. And at least I'll have some company at home tomorrow.

Jesse, I'm confused. What's the right way to submit this to the Good Stuff Tumblr?

I owe agent Kate a proposal and essay. I can't get my shit together. I was curled in a ball periodically crying for my whole long weekend in frustration. I've never been this frozen in my whole life. And I'm working with the essay on the motivational speaker with the rock. That's my sort of bread-and-butter Practically Writes Itself essay. And I'm frozen.

I have to tell Kate I'm not getting there. I missed the deadline. I'm fucked. And all I want to do is go into bed and bawl like a moron.

Drabble?