I don’t trust people that don’t like kids and I don’t completely trust myself to have them. On the off chance we do have little baby alien humans, you must be a magnificent father because I will be a mediocre mother at best.
It’s important that I feel like a little spoon at all times, which requires at least a five-inch height difference. This will allow me to gain a bit of weight (something I can do but you probably shouldn’t) and still feel small in comparison.
We don’t believe in God in this relationship, but we do believe in…
Dear Mirena,
First of all, hello. We’ve never been formally introduced. Unless, of course, you consider being abruptly inserted into my uterus by a doctor whose face was buried in my vagina “formal.” I’m Dani — the owner of the uterus inside which you live. I wish we had had some more time to get to know each other, but here we are — two years later and I know nothing about you. What are your hopes? Your dreams? Have you always wanted to be 99.9% effective at preventing pregnancy? How did you land on the T-shape? Do you have…
From the ages of 11 to 22, I spent almost every weekend at Jewish youth group events in L.A., and summers at a Jewish summer camp in Santa Rosa, California. Once we entered high school, our youth group had a point system: The more hookups you had, the more points you got. The teens in leadership positions were worth more. I was never in youth group leadership, but I often found myself in the bed, backseat, or sleeping bag of a boy that was.
According to our point system I wasn’t worth much on my own, but every kiss, every…
Since my 4.5 year relationship ended just over 2 years ago, I have absolutely refused to be alone. I got a taste of the coupled up life and have been in the aggressive pursuit of reclaiming that status from the moment I was dumped while heating up a Trader Joe’s burrito for lunch in the kitchen we shared. I re-activated my Hinge account the following day.
I was devastated when we broke up. Not because I was losing him, but because I was losing that relationship status. Sure, I loved Brad — but only as much as you could love…
It has recently come to my attention that I am “not cool”, “for olds” and “over” and I would like to take this opportunity to defend myself. And I’d like to start by asking: since when do the youths have a say? Back in my day, old white men decided how things should be and they never had a problem with my location on the deep left side of the scalp.
These middle-parters on TikTok seem to think that being a side part is a choice. It is not. My millennial was born this way and as much as she…
So this is how I die? Alone in my thirties in a basement apartment with my Wiccan roommate and her miniature dachshund in the next room? I wonder if any of my exes are available to marry me immediately. Okay, no. This is fine. Let me just update the ‘Looking for’ in my dating app profiles to: “Someone with a large one — two-bedroom apartment, a 401K, and who will love me unconditionally but also leave me alone most of the time. Bonus points if you have a dog.”
I mean, how much longer could this last — a month…
In the spirit of Ted Cruz, Josh Hawley, Lindsey Graham, Mitch McConnel, Marco Rubio, and of course, Donald Trump — a crew I have affectionately nicknamed “The Sycophant Six”, I’d like to take this opportunity to unequivocally condemn the consequences of any and all questionable, despicable, or insurrection inducing actions I have ever taken. In reading this statement I hope you will join me in shirking responsibility, lying, and moving on — for the good of m̶y ̶p̶o̶l̶i̶t̶i̶c̶a̶l̶ ̶c̶a̶r̶e̶e̶r ̶ the country.
My full statement:
Striking the right balance between quality family time, a dating life, free laundry, and not exposing your family to a deadly virus because of your dating life can be tough. Especially when said deadly virus is more prevalent than (and just as likely to be undetectable as) HPV. So what’s a thirty-something-year-old single woman who chose to be in a COVID bubble with her family but is also desperately trying to get laid (me) supposed to do? Well, here are some options:
No huss no fuss, rip off the band-aid. Force your parents to acknowledge that you are a sexual…
I’ve recently recovered from the simply devastating loss of my beloved Little Pickles and having been released from “do not sell to this bitch, she kills everything she touches” probation at my local garden store, I’ve decided it’s time to put myself back out there and get a new houseplant. Could you be the one to fill the Little Pickles sized, poorly lit hole in my heart?
Your living quarters:
On the ceiling in the northwest corner of my living room, there’s a hook that was installed by the former tenant that I have decided is perfect for plants. Little…
Full time renewable energy professional, free time snarky writer.