Grace Lavery / Joseph Lavery & Daniel M. Lavery / Mallory Ortberg - "Straight with extra steps" couple trooning out to avoid "dwindling into mere heterosexuality"

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Autistic Nonetheless said:
For an example of what tastefully oversized suit would look like on someone with a slim build:
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God bless you for that photo. Tard Baby is more Jackson Lamb without the… well, everything

Aunt Carol said:
I thought those book-style phone cases were notoriously beloved by middle-aged and older women.
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It might be different in Australia, as actual heterosexual men do use them, but overall their popularity amongst everyone is dropping

Aunt Carol said:
"Bare below the elbows" allows a wedding ring,
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I honestly thought this was some sort of fisting reference at first.

Friend of Dorothy Parker said:
She's hairstyling like a 90s Marc Almond.
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A no better role model could be considered.

Friend of Dorothy Parker said:
Who, incidentally, bears a passing physionomic resemblance at times to Joe (beak + cheeks + weak jaw).
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I have the utmost respect for you but these are fighting words. Name your seconds.
 
Potatis Salad said:
It's weird to hear this cynical, self-serving edgelord troon take a minute away from reposting 9/11 jokes on Instagram Stories to sincerepost about a candidate and encourage people to vote. I wonder what got into him.
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Good catch that Joe probably doesn't even vote. I was surprised how much his post reminded me of the Kamala "brat" "coconut tree" Summer memes. Like he's completely disconnected from cool youth culture and gets excited when it appears like his candidate is being positively meme'd. He doesn't care about this guy's communist bona fides, just that he's algorithm-approved. Joe loves being part of the algorithm!
 
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Can I just say, this might be one of the most disgusting ensemble of patterns, colours and textures all put together somewhat deliberately, she chose to stand by that wallpaper, by someone who thinks of themselevs as vaguely in the arts?
The grody old phone cover look especially tips it off. It is pure Fat Girl 2013
 
New Chatner about Mal's job: Fielding Questions About My New Job's Shift Meal Policy (Archive)

Are you in the Bay Area and free this Monday evening? Come by Pegasus Books on Shattuck in Berkeley around 6pm and see me talk with Soleil Ho about Christmas at the Women’s Hotel. It’s the only stop on my book tour this year, so make the most of it.
Previously in this series: Answering questions about getting to drive the big bus for work.
FRIENDS: How big is the big bus?
DANIEL: Let me put it this way. If the bus were any bigger, I would need a commercial driver’s license.
FRIENDS: Does the big bus beep when you put it in reverse?
DANIEL: It does. With a satisfying depth of sound, too.
FRIENDS: And is there a button you can press to open the accordion doors?
DANIEL: There is. I can open and close the accordion doors with the slightest movement of my finger. Both admitting and denying egress and ingress for passengers is as child’s play, to me.
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It’s been two months since I started my new job in senior living. One day a week I drive the big bus; two days a week I drive the company car. Two days a week I manage the daily activity schedule and for the remaining two days each week I labor not, neither do I spin.
The citizenry’s hunger for news remains unsatisfied; every day people ask me questions about my new work and I endeavor to satisfy them all.
FRIENDS: Is it true there is no limit to your company’s shift meal policy?
DANIEL: In practice there are limits. I cannot order three lunches, for example. But the company’s shift meal policy is licentious. I can request soup, salad, an entree, two sides, and a dessert, should I feel so moved. All I have to do is write it down.
FRIENDS: The entree almost always comes with gravy, does it not?
DANIEL: It does. Five days a week, should I particularly wish it, I might eat a hot lunch with gravy at no cost to myself, and without lifting a finger to prepare it.
FRIENDS: Your blood pressure must be through the roof —
DANIEL: Perhaps I have neglected to mention that all of these meals are already reduced sodium…?
[Murmurs of quiet admiration follow.]
FRIENDS: And your inbox situation?
DANIEL: The burden is easy; the yoke is light. I receive no more than two to three emails a day on average.
FRIENDS: Surely not —!
DANIEL: It is not unheard of to go an entire day at work without receiving a single email.
FRIENDS: But meetings?
DANIEL: I do not attend meetings. There is no meeting at work that requires my presence.
FRIENDS: None at all?
DANIEL: Once a month the Active Living Committee gets together to discuss future outings and so on. But I would hardly call that a meeting. I don’t have to take notes or anything.
FRIENDS: Scarcely a meeting at all…!
DANIEL: Moreover, I understand every element of my job. I could easily explain what I do to any schoolchild. No one has said the word “deliverables” to me, not once.
FRIENDS: Well, it’s only been two months —
DANIEL: I drive people to their appointments. I drive the big bus on outings. I move the chairs and set up the tables for volleyball. Sometimes I call Bingo or play a round of Uno. Twice a week I lead a seated exercise class. And I make fliers that go up in the elevator for the evening movies.
FRIENDS: It can’t all be games and honking the horn on the big bus.
DANIEL: I’m afraid quite a lot of it is.
FRIENDS: Nothing leaves you uncertain? Nothing overwhelms you?
DANIEL: I — sometimes it’s difficult to operate the projector in the theater. Sometimes I have trouble with that. And once I opened an email that was part of an HR-led phishing expedition that resulted in a mandatory twenty-minute online training.
FRIENDS: The subject line of which was…?
DANIEL: It was “Time card discrepancy,” sent from an email address that only tangentially resembled my boss’ email address.
FRIENDS: I see.
DANIEL: But I can serve myself unlimited Diet Coke from the soda gun in the kitchen.
FRIENDS: Can you?
DANIEL: I’m — I’m not entirely sure. The soda gun lies a few steps beyond the sign that says “KITCHEN STAFF ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT.” And I am not kitchen staff.
FRIENDS: I see!
DANIEL: But I am sometimes permitted beyond that point, to get ice, in the course of my ordinary duties, and no one has yet told me to stop pouring myself Diet Cokes…
FRIENDS: You need say nothing else. I see it all perfectly.

She must be so relieved to be able to get away from Joe and Lily after being cooped up with them for years.
 
Potatis Salad said:
She must be so relieved to be able to get away from Joe and Lily after being cooped up with them for years.
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What are you talking about? Joe and Lily Don’t even pretend to want her around. She’s always getting left behind while they’re sauntering around town looking like bloated corpses and the rugs they were rolled up in
 
Potatis Salad said:
She must be so relieved to be able to get away from Joe’s cooking
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FIFY

Bookwork said:
Ah yes, I do remember when she enjoyed making up letters to Prudence so she could enjoy answering them.
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Dear Prudie,

I am a trans guy married to a transwoman. While we’ve always had an open relationship, we only played with other people together, mostly her friends. She’s also quite flirtatious online, but these posts always seemed more like exercises in public naughtiness, and anyway I thought they were hot, and imagined her saying them to me. Or so I thought. Then she announced her latest online amour „Lydia” was coming to stay temporarily after a breakup. Since Lydia is a lesbian, she’s not that interested in me, but OK, whatever. Now my wife and Lydia have conceived a child together. While I am excited for them (I really am!) and for the opportunity to challenge the heteronormative family, part of me worries I am reproducing its worst aspects in a trans form. How do I deal with my own transphobia?

FarmVille said:
Joe and Lily Don’t even pretend to want her around. She’s always getting left behind
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Who takes the nanny along on a date night holiday?
 
monstrous bubo said:
FIFY



Dear Prudie,

I am a trans guy married to a transwoman. While we’ve always had an open relationship, we only played with other people together, mostly her friends. She’s also quite flirtatious online, but these posts always seemed more like exercises in public naughtiness, and anyway I thought they were hot, and imagined her saying them to me. Or so I thought. Then she announced her latest online amour „Lydia” was coming to stay temporarily after a breakup. Since Lydia is a lesbian, she’s not that interested in me, but OK, whatever. Now my wife and Lydia have conceived a child together. While I am excited for them (I really am!) and for the opportunity to challenge the heteronormative family, part of me worries I am reproducing its worst aspects in a trans form. How do I deal with my own transphobia?
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Correction: Danny changed every pronoun to "they/them," so it was impossible to tell who was doing what.

Dear Prudie:

I am married (with extra steps!). While we’ve always had an open relationship, we only played with other people together, mostly their friends. They're also quite flirtatious online, but these posts always seemed more like exercises in public naughtiness, and anyway I thought they were hot, and imagined them saying them to me. Or so I thought. Then they announced their latest online amour was coming to stay temporarily after a breakup. They are not that interested in me, but OK, whatever. Now they have conceived a child. While I am excited for them (I really am!) and for the opportunity to challenge the heteronormative family, part of me worries I am reproducing its worst aspects in a trans form. How do I deal with my own transphobia?

Dear Lover-them:
You do sound transphobic, just like my evil family I don't talk to and who love child abuse. You don't understand how it is to be them. I suggest you sit down and write silly rewrites of classic literature snips and reevaluate how you can best support them in their journey, and look for ways to support them and their gender-neutral offspring. Consider whether unpaid nannying will prove your worth to them. You also should stomp down your own selfish personhood and also get locked out of the house when they're having they-time. Also, cutting off any protruding parts you have is a good idea. Trust the plan. And remember: humiliation is good for you.

Sincerely, M. Prude.
 
Tard Baby announced that tonight would be the ONLY promotional event she would hold for Christmas at the Women's Hotel. It was at a bookstore in Berkeley. Lily posted this Instagram story with no comment:
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Man she looks like a sped. The giant sneakers!
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I just listened to the latest episode of Blocked and Reported. Turns out Katie Herzog’s lolcow of choice is Joe, but she can’t stand his socials so she gets all her updates from this thread.

I’d like to encourage Katie to lurk no moar. Contribute, goddamnit!
 
Amusing but even Wikipedia cant tell if Joe is working hard or hardly working

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Also still no mention of his book on the duke u website.
Oh well. I kind of expect him to stop writing after this. He's got tenure, and nothing he's published thus far has had any impact even within the unlanced boil of academic tranny writing . That Sitcom book has zero citations and only 2 proper reviews.

We can only hope his new found job security will leave him with extra time to pursue his true calling of being an embarrassment on the internet.
 
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Potatis Salad said:
Tard Baby announced that tonight would be the ONLY promotional event she would hold for Christmas at the Women's Hotel. It was at a bookstore in Berkeley. Lily posted this Instagram story with no comment:
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Man she looks like a sped. The giant sneakers!
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Far be it for me to speak ill of a baby, but what the fuck is going on with little Rococo's forehead. Why is it so big and elongated?
 
Nothing To See Here said:
Far be it for me to speak ill of a baby, but what the fuck is going on with little Rococo's forehead.
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Rococo is looking a lot like Joe post trooning out which should be impossible.

Also that suit be looking like pajamas.
I have a few coworkers who occasionally try and style a suit and when it goes wrong, 9 times out of 10, it's because they rented something too small, or because they don't know fabrics and went for ridiculously shiny polyester. Mal has somehow managed to sidestep both of these potholes only to fall off the bridge that is looking like a Hungarian war refugee in the 1920's.
 
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