Jenni Berrett

I don’t think the bar is low enough. We obviously need a way to work up to the Bechdel Test. Baby steps. And we all know women love babies.

Part of me wants to write this off as innocuous and carry on with my day, because homophobia is already everywhere and there are better things for me to dedicate my words to — but then I remember 10-year old me.

We have returned from our long (jk, two week) hiatus to deliver you the Internet you live and breathe for!

[CN: vomit] Having been an unfeeling, sluggish husk of a person with the nap-taking skills of an elderly sloth for the past five months or so, I have reemerged too tender for this world.

Here we are, your fearless Internet explorers (pun totally intended), back with another melange of web flotsam for you to scavenge.

Marina, if you're reading this, please be our BFF.

Last week I had a bit of a meltdown. It was not a good time. Luckily, I was able to calm myself down with one of the most beautiful pastimes to have been born out of the Internet.

Is laughter the best medicine?

Culturally speaking, though, it’s pretty much set in stone. Even if I left the church entirely, there’s no getting out of my heritage. Cut me open; I’ll bleed funeral potatoes. I’m what you call a “legacy Mormon” — my ancestors migrated across the frontier and settled in Utah (then Mexico) after facing unspeakable persecution from countless communities in the United States. You probably know my ancestors best as the people with the wives.

This week includes mostly chihuahuas. You're welcome.