A popular website is all over this.

The responses to that tweet are fun as well.

No matter what they say, the parodists can't keep up.

I loved the comments.

I mean, really -- you can't question a woman's statement or logic or you've committed some thought/speech crime against her?

parody account, I think, but funny nonetheless...

What I find amusing with my ex- is that if there is an inconvenient fact, or she has said to contradictory things... she just says "I don't want to argue." as if somehow, that makes everything different. OI!

Crid,

You posted a link couple days ago on how dogs have changed.

The Pug before picture didn't capture how much the breed has changed. This is what they actually looked like:

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/5/5a/William_Hogarth_006.jpg/169px-William_Hogarth_006.jpg

I love reading pug history

In a somewhat impoverished childhood, we were always in tight apartments where dogs (and their expen$es) were out of the question, so pet trends weren't something I paid attention to. But at 55, I've lived through more than half the century described in the blog post.

The most striking example, one just below consciousness, is the newly-arched faceplate of the bull terrier. It would never have been something discussed out loud, but I'd registered the alien weirdness of that face... Much like that one girl-cousin of yours, the one who never cared about cars and never had a boyfriend enthusiast, might have quietly sensed that the Sting Ray variant of the Chevy Corvette was especially swoopy circa 1970. The new skull looks like nature's response to the task of knocking through sheets of limestone or something. It's hard to understand why a breeder would think it's attractive. More probably, they were trying to 'innovate' as we would a gown designer for Paris in the spring.

And of course those muscles are weird... the dogs look all steroid-y and angry and cancer-prone. Dachshunds have always been offensive, as if they must be consciously aware of their purposely corrupted nature... I imagine them asking 'Why am I so fucked up?' as they toddle, rather than bound, over the park grass to a heavily-perfumed owner with noisy jewelry who tickles and says 'Oh Muffles, you are such a cutesy diddle-widdle darling meepmeepmeep!...'

The same thing's happened to grocery vegetables across my lifetime. When I was a kid, some vegetables were healthier than the next one on the bin, as you'd expect. Like, from a garden. But now they're all just huge and muscular and flavorless, and it's like they have big hard silicone titties from porno. A strawberry the size of a six-year-old's fist isn't unusual.

It's no surprise that these animals get sick a lot. One wonders how their breeders can sleep through the shame.

Minus "we," 'graph #2.

When we have these printed and bound every year to give as Christmas gifts, Amy always pays a proofreader to deal with the typos, which is nice.

Condescending dicks of the world unite!

A few days ago, one of our cars had a "Check Engine" light.

SWIPIAW (She Who is Perfect in All Ways, aka my wife): Why is that light on.

I: Possibly a fuel injector starting to go bad.

SWIPIAW: How many of those are there?

I: One per cylinder.

SWIPIAW: Okay, how many is that.

I: Seriously?

SWIPIAW: Seriously.

I: You are going to get me mansplaining.

SWIPIAW: What is that?

I: What I am about to start doing, but there is no helping it. Your car has 6 cylinders, so 6 fuel injectors.

SWIPIAW: Are they in a V, or that other direction thingie?

Daughter: How many does my car have, and what does a cylinder do?

Ah, that prose... so simple when seen, so delightful!

"'Oh Muffles, you are such a cutesy diddle-widdle darling meepmeepmeep!...'"

So driven by its author never having been coddled like that. And we are better for it, I admit, despite his occasional lunacy.

Nicely done, again, Crid. Wish you'd write a book. I'd buy it. I know, faint praise.

Don't kid yourself... I was an adorable toddler... Big brown eyes flashing around, thick mop of brown locks flopping in the wind.

I was taken once to the hospital with a diagnosis of Bell's Palsy... Turned out, it was just that the ladies in the church anteroom had been pinching my cheeks too much. It was weird! I began to notice that the closer they were to menopause, the more likely they were to reflexively thumb-pop the top buttons on their very prim, neatly-starched, early-60's blouses if we happened to make eye contact in a bank... Or on a bus, or at the grocery. Do you understand what a pattern of encounters like does to a kid's head? Can you imagine the sense of power?

I learned early in life that beauty is an intoxicant... And I learned the hard way.

No one ever mansplains to me... I hope it's not because they think I'm so stupid even talking down to me won't work!!!

Don't kid yourself... I was an adorable toddler...

Not me, I've been a sullen, misanthropic, sarcastic, jackass since day one

That must've been one truly horrible twitter account, today it has been suspended.