Brandon, I hope your weekend date was with your hand, because you're obviously not getting any other action and I'd hate to think you're this wound up all the time. You remind me of those impotent little toy dogs girls have taken to carrying in lieu of clutch purses in the past year or so -- obnoxious, incontinent, and ultimately inconsequential. Repeat after me, Brandon: "It's just a show, and I don't have to watch it. Other people like things I don't, and it's not a big deal."

Alison sounds just like a typical conservative -- she's perfectly comfortable attacking everyone else, but the second she feels like someone she's being insulted, she cries like a baby that she's being unfairly oppressed.

Hey, who doesn't?

Look this has been fun, but I have a date and I have to leave now or I'll be unfashionably late. Here's a parting gift:

Oh Lemon, you are just bitter because you are too fat to find a man with a large penis. When you sleep with a guy he feels like he's dipping a cocktail weenie into a swimming pool full of lukewarm mayo after climbing to the perilous summit of a mountain of jello.

That's how it's done.

Oh, or accuse us of having a baggy vagina. Nobody wants a big, stretchy beav.

I never even mentioned Olbermann in my posts -- you're the one with the alarming man-on-man fixation. And here's a tip for insulting women -- calling us manless hasn't upset us for a couple decades now, and over 40 is (A.) not considered old any more, and (B.) also not upsetting as most women hope to live to and well past 40, as the only alternative is death. If you want to upset a girl, call her fat. It's really the only way. It's not as effective on the internet, admittedly, but it's still going to work better than what you've tried so far. Good luck, Fatty McTinypenis.

Oh, poor baby Brandon -- are your people being oppressed? I don't know where you found anything resembling jealousy in my post, but then again you've spent the past THREE DAYS whining about the fact that people like a show you don't, so clearly you're responding only to the voices in your head.

I hate it when people trot out their offspring as an accomplishment and evidence of "a life." Any female with a functioning reproductive system can produce a human fetus -- it doesn't take any particular skill. And by all accounts, you can have a child OR a life, but not both. Once you reproduce, your life centers around the child. What did the child eat? What did the child excrete? What dull/disgusting thing did the child do today (speak three words, eat his own vomit, whip it out in public), and how can I most effectively bore/horrify my coworkers with the recounting while they're trying to work? If your version of "a life" is finding some dude dumb enough to knock up a freak who spends her days obsessing over a show SHE DOESN'T EVEN LIKE and launching personal attacks on total strangers for no particular reason on the internets, then thanks but I'll pass. MY non-life of books, friends, social activity, readings, rock shows, gardening, swimming, dancing, writing, and general childless fun sounds much better than your hell of free-floating, pointless rage, "Alison."