Do you ever feel stabby about all the ads and commercials for picture-perfect mother-daughter Mothers’ Day outings, from brunches to pedis to long warm Facetime chats? You don’t want to get all bitchy and jealous, because it’s not like anyone’s fault they still have a great relationship with a living, healthy mother, but… If you are dealing…
I probably spent as much time living vicariously on the Jupiter 2, as a child, as was possible. Because even with intergalactic monsters and cosmic storms, there was a comforting expectation that at the end of the show, the family would be intact, Robot, Dr. Smith, and all.
Is there a polite way to say, “Thanks, I don’t want your pig”?
In passing, am I the only person to feel disappointed after discovering that Piccadilly Circus was not, in fact, a circus of any kind?
It makes me infuriated, that there is so much societal judgment about being fat that far too many women actually feel guilty about not looking slim when they are dying of #fuckingcancer.