On Tuesday night the premiere of comedian Amy Schumer’s new show debuted on Comedy Central, Inside Amy Schumer. Don’t worry if you missed it, I am sure it will rerun literally every other half hour on the cable network. Schumer has been working the standup circuit for a number of years, as well as popping up on TV shows like Girls, but her big moment is about to come with this show.

It’s been tough out there for the ladies as of late: pair one boorish and sexist Oscars broadcast with two parts gender wage gap and a sprinkling of anxiety about whether the VAWA will pass the House of Representatives and you’ve got a recipe for disaster — or at least one killer migraine. Well, I have found the antidote for all this bad lady-hatin’ juju and it’s available for streaming online.

We watched Beyoncé’s infomercial for being Beyoncé this weekend. We had a lot of thoughts.

This weekend’s Saturday Night Live not only featured a surprisingly delightful hosting turn from Maroon 5 frontman Adam Levine, but the return of Nasim Pedrad’s delightful Arianna Huffington impression on “Weekend Update.”

No, it wasn’t when Sarah told Sean she hoped to find a man who could help her through the trauma of not being allowed to zip-line in Vegas.

Martin Short was the host of Saturday Night Live this weekend, and it was an enjoyable episode. His sketch comedy chops made him seem less like a host and more like a bonus cast member. The best sketch of the night, for our money, featured Short as a liaison to the Queen and Bill Hader as the royal OB/GYN. Short proceeded to advise him on the proper protocol for dealing with the royal “Ahem,” including tipping one’s hat to it (but only if it tips its hat first).

It’s ba-aaaaack!

It’s the Lindsay Lohan comeback vehicle that wasn’t. Here are some of the best reactions to the two hour monstrosity (and we mean that in the best way possible) that Lifetime put into everyone’s eyes last night.

Lifetime, you’re right: you are my life, my time—and, dare I say, so much more. You’re my shoulder to inexplicably weep on, the one who gives me Lindsay when everyone else is too afraid to, my sage advisor in all issues of husband-turned-adulterer-turned-axe murderer-turned-secret-FBI-agent-who-is-addicted-to-Internet-tweet-sex. When I’m ignoring my friends’s calls or texting them elaborate lies that involve the phrase “totally bungled” and just looking to spend a few hours lying prone on my couch, drinking six-dollar “wine product” and feeling the urge to call my mom, I know I can turn to you. You’ll be playing the Project Runwayepisode in which the contestants are visited by their families. How do you always know?

It’s not a contest, but it kind of is.