Fun little trick in the Sunday New York Times crossword yesterday: the central theme clue was "The better of two sci-fi franchises", and regardless of whether you put Star Wars or Star Trek, the crossing clues worked
I love it when guys ask me how big my tits are, like, as if men have any idea what bra sizes mean.
I could tell a guy I'm a WD-40 and he'd be like, "OMG. So fucking hot."
I have lost several dear friends, both parents, and a son. I hated my own sorrow until tonight, when I heard: "But, what is grief, if not love, persevering?" Heart-healing poetry. Thank you, @wandavision.