Whoa, I just had the craziest dream – a nightmare, really – in which no one responsible for creating our mass entertainment ever had an original idea again.
The science-fiction movie Logan’s Run is an unwatchable cheese-fest, but it makes an excellent point: when your twenties end – as mine will soon – you might as well be dead.
At 10 years old, I knew that I had plenty of competition for the gig with more experience, so I decided to make a direct appeal.
A single hot-button issue has dominated our national discourse lately: is the birth control pill wrong? You might not care about politics, which is normally a sign of mental health. Apathy is the best, right? Who ...
OK, I’ll admit it: I have become a groomzilla, the increasingly common (and dreaded) masculine version of a micromanaging bride.
Panic and paranoia became the national conversation, became the foreign policy, became the consensus reality.
It’s downright offensive to call people now, because you’re wasting precious time they could use to play on the Internet. A primer for how to talk with the ones closest to you.
This was written in the week that he was cool and hilarious. Before he ruined his own joke with lame webcasts and a botched standup tour. Losing.
You can only watch two people get it on for so long before it grows tedious. And unsavory.
If you wear these things in public, you might want a lawyer to explain the local indecent exposure laws.