For the girlies that know sometimes, even when you’re wrong, you’re not.

☣️ Not all group chats go drama free. After Ashley Tisdale’s opinion piece for The Cut, claiming she was leaving her “toxic mom group”, fans were quick to speculate who she might be talking about. Mandy Moore, and Meghan Trainer are some of the names being tossed in the toxic convo but Hilary Duff’s husband got in on the action.

🏒 Feeling the flame for Heated Rivalry? Get in line. Literally. Jimmy Fallon called the line of fans waiting to see star Hudson Williams “one of the hottest audiences we’ve ever had” on The Tonight Show. And in case you needed further proof that the 24-year-old is entering super celeb territory, the internet has started auditing his Letterboxd.

⚰️ Another comedy couple bites the dust? Even though we’ve harbored a Bill Hader crush for years, we were bummed to see his split from Ali Wong is now official.

🪑Award season continues on tonight at The Golden Globes, and the seating chart has quite a few surprises. The big question is, will everyone survive the stairs?

🦅 22-year-old Eagles star Cooper DeJean is having a moment after rumors surfaced that he’s dating 42-year-old WWE superstar Nikki Bella. Meanwhile, his ex has entered her full thirst-trap era (as one does).

💕 Austin Butler may be off the market, as he has been spotted multiple times with a mystery brunette.

💤 David Harbour is bowing out of filming the movie Behemoth!, reportedly overwhelmed by the press push for the final season of Stranger Things and choosing to prioritize rest. Cue some side eye.

💻 Hailey Bieber just shut down viral claims that she reposted a TikTok about alleged “abuse” in her marriage to Justin Bieber, saying she never shared the video and calling the internet “really bored.” Leaving us all to once again wonder if where there is smoke…

Carol: Perhaps I’m late to the game, but this week I’m tipping my hat to the absolute No Notes Girlie that is Courtney Cook.

Courtney is a 36-year-old mom of four, a teacher, and the cause of multiple potato and cheese shortages across the country. She is also the reason I ate a full onion in one sitting this week because she has successfully rebranded raw onion as “onion cups.”

She started popping up on my FYP and, at first, I was skeptical. A sweet Southern belle smothering soup dumplings with large squeezes of mayonnaise topped with melted muenster cheese? This woman may not be well. Shoving a truly alarming amount of butterkase cheese into the center of a sweet potato? Curious. A woman who unabashedly takes several large swigs of juice from whatever pickled item she’s currently adding to her meal? I take it all back. I’m in.

And now I can confidently say I would follow her to the depths of the earth if she told me that’s where the butterkase cheese was kept. She is the most Type B woman I’ve ever encountered, and she’s healing something inside me I didn’t know needed to be healed. She has a golden retriever named Sugar Plum, for god’s sake. She is my current North Star in this grim start to 2026. It is critically important to my mental health that I never learn anything bad about her.

Skylar: This week has honestly been a blur. Not just because I’ve been avoiding accepting that we are fully into January, but because I suffered a traumatic head injury (respectfully, yes I am being dramatic.)

Little did my dear Carol know she’d be stepping into the role of medical professional when I asked her to hold my beer (literally) as I ran to the bathroom moments before our comedy show on Wednesday night. I went to the bathroom and, in a move Robby Hoffman would respect, carefully layered toilet paper on the seat before spinning around to sit. Mid-spin, my skull connected with the fucking purse hook jutting out of the bathroom door, like a menacing little bitch.

I hit my head so hard I knew something was wrong. I rushed back to Carol to confirm my suspicions that I had a concussion (I did not) and to help assess the pea-sized bump forming on my forehead. “Ice,” she said. I complied like the rule abiding girlie I am.

We stood in line to perform our first jokes of the year while I kept touching the tender spot on my head and calculating how long I could milk this for sympathy from my boyfriend (about an hour and a half). By the end of the show, the bump had doubled in size (this time actually not being dramatic), and my main concern was now, was I dying?

Carol assured me I was fine, but if I wanted to be cautious, I should stay awake for six hours (I did not). The whole reason I am sharing all of this is because when Carol told me to take Tylenol, not ibuprofen, I didn’t have Tylenol. So girlies, make sure you have both on hand because you truly never know what evil lurks in the public restroom and apparently when you google it you will learn that ibuprofen with a head injury could cause internal bleeding?!

I do not deserve Carol’s patience, but I am endlessly grateful for it and since she was subjected to them, please enjoy these photos of my head. And yes, I should have washed my hair the day before the show.

Also, yes I did in fact binge Simon Cowell: The Next Act, because if you’ve been with us from the beginning you know I love a singing competition and a boy band.

Truly nothing spikes my cortisol faster than seeing the above 181 unread texts in a screenshot. Immediate fight-or-flight. Meanwhile, I’m over here unbothered with 9,573 unread emails. To each their own, I guess. So… how do you handle notifications?

Collectively we feel an age that is not ourselves. In last week’s poll we asked you if you felt younger than your actual age, older, or if it depended on who you were with. What we do know is: “nobody likes you when you’re 23.”

Sunday scaries? Not on our watch. It’s a comedy show for people who love to laugh and love being in bed by ten pm. Join us Sunday, 1/25 at 6pm at Duckworth’s Comedy Club—tickets are already moving, so grab yours while you can. 🎟 Tickets here.

If you’re still here and have your life together: drop your digital planner recs. Apple Calendar sync is non-negotiable. I want to write (doodle) with my fancy Apple Pencil. I already spent $8.99 on one that turned out to be a glorified PDF. I need more.

After my impassioned plea to join the 1,000 rejections revolution, I was bummed not a single girlie felt called to do the same. But do not fear, if you’re interested just email back and say you want an accountability partner. Consider this plea one of my attempts at rejection.

And lastly, share GCG with a friend, and check out the Substack for all the things we can’t fit in the newsletter (shocking to think we have more to say).