Who’s the Boss?


A late 80s to early 90s sitcom where Tony Danza had to get a job as a maid. You may have surmised, he wasn’t the boss. Judith Light’s character was the boss, in that she paid Tony’s salary and told him what to do. The only possible reason for the title is misogyny. It also featured Alyssa Milano, who I have never met, but who was once engaged to my third cousin and inducted the first of my family members into the Derek Jeter Herpes Tree. 1.7/5

The Fight Against Cancer


I wish we didn’t frame cancer this way. It makes everyone who dies of cancer into a loser, the last thing they did into a failure. If ever I get a terminal cancer diagnosis–and God willing and the creek don’t rise I never will, but it’s not like I take care of myself–I’m going to see whoever I need to see, spend all my pocket money, get, just so high, like, high as balls, and quietly surrender to cancer.  0.9/5



This is when you throw up food you just ate. If you’re doing this to meet some ideal of western beauty, stop. You’re already beautiful. If, on the other hand, you’re following the example of the ancient Romans and doing it so you can eat more gilded giraffe tongue or lark’s tongue stewed in a leopard’s stomach, then I admire your joie de vivre, sir or madam. 2.5/5



They call this “Molly” now, I suspect for no other reason than to make me feel old. I was never a fan of this. Some people on it once had sex on a couch right next to me at a party, but I had been waiting for some place to sit down for like an hour and I was not getting up for anyone or anything. Also it makes you feel like you have to dance but makes you run a fever, like you have an actual boogie woogie flu. 0.3/5



Or “acid reflux” but that sounds more like something has gone horribly wrong with your toilet. This is the reason that people turn into skeletons when we die. See, after you shuffle off this mortal coil, there’s no one left to keep putting Tums down your throat so your stomach acid runs rampant and melts your poor flesh and sinew. I believe this will happen to me roughly twenty minutes into my funeral. 0.1/5

Feline Senility

Senile Felines.

One of the cats who lives with me and my family in my house is starting to slip, mentally. It’s kind of adorable because she keeps stealing stuffed animals from my daughter’s bedroom and meowing loudly until someone acknowledges she has just given birth to it. I imagine it’d be a lot less charming if it was my grandma or something doing that, but I already rated Alzheimer’s Disease. It was less funny and mostly about how one time I got really high. 4.1/5