My friend lives in suburban San Diego and he is not a fan. He lives here due to fairly random circumstances, which anyone who ended up without a chair when the music stopped during the recession might understand. READ MORE
I’m going to talk about loving myself. But don’t be scared. I’m not going to hug myself. I am not going to look in the mirror and tell myself I am a beautiful woman. I am definitely not going to take a smaller mirror and look at my vagina, though if you want to give me 50 bucks, I totally will. What I am going to do is discuss loving myself in terms of not loving poetry. READ MORE
I work in a co-working space in a small town with this guy that I will call Tom. Actually, I can’t call him Tom because Tom is the name of someone affable and easy-going, and this guy is neither. I suppose I can call him Norman. That is not quite right for what his name actually is, but it is close enough. READ MORE
“Oh great. Now Cameron Diaz's vagina is going to be all over the internet.”
“What? They didn’t show it.”
“Oh, OK. I had this idea that you actually saw it, pressed against the windshield.”
“No. My God. Of course not. What are you, a moron?”
"OK, I don’t know! You said: 'There's a scene where Cameron Diaz rubs her vagina up against a car windshield,' so I just assumed you actually saw it.”
“The movie would be X-rated. When have you ever seen an X-rated movie?”
“OK, forget it! Jesus."
“Cormac McCarthy is so sexist.”
“Are you serious?”
“I just don’t know why that one thing makes him sexist.”
“He wrote a four-minute speech where a man compares a woman's vagina to a catfish. He needs to do more?”
"OK. First of all, it's a character talking. And maybe Cormac McCarthy thinks that's what a woman's vagina looks like."
"Oh my God."
"Nothing. I'm going to get a drink."READ MORE
At the Sacramento Airport I bought the Sacramento Bee. Like most people, I never buy newspapers, but I do when I fly. One reason is that my attention often can’t stick to a book. Another is that the only magazines I read already come in the mail and I can’t deal with how expensive they are to buy one at a time. Finally, when you actually read a newspaper, especially one that is not the New York Times, and actually get into its weird crevices, you find out very strange things about the world. You enter dark places. Yesterday, in the airspace between Sacramento and Chicago, I entered the world of California olives. READ MORE
The other day, a friend posted Rielle Hunter’s HuffPology to the world on my Facebook page. I saw that she’d written a book, and I was like, “Ugh, whoa, well, she must need money.” And I thought about what it would be like to be her—how she gets up every day and does whatever she does, another person trying to live their life, trying to decide what to eat, how to feed her kid. READ MORE
A futile attempt to become smart by reading The Economist resulted in these 10 extremely dumb thoughts: READ MORE
Whenever I clean, whenever I am sweating on my hands and knees wiping strands of hair out of a corner or picking them off of freshly Ajaxed porcelain, I try to interrupt my feelings of victimized indignation to dreamily recall how I grew up with a maid. READ MORE
8 Headlines That Sound Like Upworthy, But Are Simply Attempts To Express My Withering Contempt For That Collective of Neo-Liberal Douchebags
Watch These Astonished Cattle Ranchers React When A Brave Vegetarian Tells Them That Cows Are Animals And Not Just Plants That Shit A Lot And Can Also Walk READ MORE