And did you tell him not since the late ‘eighties when you were trying to make it as an actress”?”

Oh, that’s the vagina of a 35-year-old Latina woman.

Gin is an alcoholic beverage which, if your mommy’s strong genes are any indication, you’ll eventually learn to love as it slowly destroys a giant portion of your adult life.

Ah. Sorry, Jack, the machine’s broken. Looks like you’re gonna have to guzzle your juice down without any ice. Pretend, um…. You know, pretend it’s gin.

Yay, congratulations, whoopee, all right, see ya.

Apparently he’s doing the fatty dance.” Inappropriate? Well, maybe. But I’m raising my son to be a straight-shooter. That’s his mom, right over there.”

Look, you pretty obviously have short-circuited. Because the odds of you ever actually having a baby are roughly on a par with me finding the Loch Ness monster in my bathtub.

Your sarcasm is wasted on me, you giant pregnant beast. This is an anger-free zone. There’s no anger here.(…)Oh! Guh! Counter! Ha ha haaaaa!

I’m not freshly ripping anybody anything anymore. I am done with anger.

Carla, for something to be an issue, it needs to cause a problem. I mean, honestly, aside from having to — by law — remain thirty feet away from a certain telemarketer who I visited while he was eating his dinner, I don’t see the downside.