A coworker who gets pregnant, and then for the next nine months you can't have a conversation with her that doesn't involve the fact that she is pregnant. Bonus for the ultrasounds pasted in her workspace, and the coworkers who fawn over the cuteness of said blob in In Utero.
What a self-entitled and failed actress with aspirations to be this century’s Princess Grace calls the future queen of England et al, who has forgotten more about clothes and style than ever was written in fashion magazines, when said fashionista pointed out flaws in her daughter’s flower-girl dress which the ham disagreed with. As reported by the mummer’s husband, whose DNA results are a State secret, in his expose that nobody but journalists will read and in doing so spat the dummy thereby proving he is the one who has one.