There’s a LOT to marriage, but short answer: the law actually recognizes that this person is your partner in life. In the ways talked about above and some others. Other than that, picking the right person is difficult: you have to find someone who:
You’re attracted to
You will want to kill less than once per week, ideally
You are willing to commit to talking to instead of killing when you want to
You respect enough to support
You have reason to believe thinks the same of you.

Fun fact: a woman diagnosed with a serious illness is two to six times (depending on source) more likely to be left by her male spouse or partner than a man with a similar diagnosis with a female partner.
The shit you find out when your spouse gets diagnosed.

Basically they’re making fun of the “if you abort a baby at any time after conception it’s MURDER” crowd. Which, I mean, I get, but better and more accurate ways to go about it.

… ironically, was thinking about a different relative this time, but thanks.

… now I gotta try that

Had me at “mixed pickles.”

I fucking hate when doctors do something like that without consent or notification. Or when they get a super important find on a test result and don’t mention it.

What is?

It’s a parody movement anyway.

We usually split those. Which is weird, cause we’re both fat.

We usually split those. Which is weird, cause we’re both fat.

I will *definitely* say that the cops where I live now (as opposed to then) are class prejudiced. I used to get pulled over freakin’ constantly. I haven’t, at all, for the past four years. Which coincides perfectly with the point at which I bought a new car.

The cops where I live are def not particularly lenient, but there is a slight chance it’s a money thing. His family isn’t rich/famous enough to be well known or have police connections, but he is visibly well-off.

Whichever spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down, as long as it ain’t disingenuous.

Having ridden places with my best friend from high school, evidently we don’t. That man is going to kill himself and/or a few people someday, but the only cop I’ve ever seen pull him over let him off with a warning for going 90 in a 55.

Everybody needs that “honest asshole” friend. Otherwise, how the hell are you ever gonna know if that outfit actually looks good on you?
That said, compliment sandwich, buddy, compliment sandwich.

Now *I* want a watermelon to myself. For some reason that never occurred to me before. I just assumed they were a Share Fruit.

*googles rasmalai* …. Okay, you had me at “paneer.”

I always kind of assumed mine would be essay format?

How did you find a cake that takes longer than angel food?

I will say about the trope thing, I loved what Princess Jellyfish did with it. The girl is a nerdy hikikomori, but behind her anxiety she turns out to be pretty stable emotionally. The dude is rich, hot, a player, and a REALLY good cross-dresser, but underneath the hood, he is a hot mess. He brings out her confidence a little; she kind of makes him aware he needs to deal with his shit.