The deliveries still continue to this day, and according to The Atlantic, a lot of those magazines are used by interns to play pranks on each other. "We assume, at this point, that staff members are either reading it or tossing it," said a Hustler representative, winking so hard that he probably dislocated his eyelid.

And if the prospect of free smut isn't enough to tempt you to take up a career in politics, what about free candy?

Senate.govNo, of the "mouth" variety.

In a tradition that started way back in 1965, the "Candy Desk" is a desk in the Senate that's always kept well-stocked with sweets. Since the desk is situated on the Republican side, past candy suppliers have included John McCain and Rick Santorum. Rumors that it's currently guarded by Jeff Sessions at the end of a rainbow are absurd. He's no longer a senator.

There is something interesting hidden down there, though: a private subway used by members of Congress to commute between the Hill's various legislative chambers and the also-various offices and administrative buildings. That said, if you're picturing some grand, plush affair with dining cars, beer taps, and luxury accommodations, you're way off. It's basically one of those dinky ride-on trains that you can buy for toddlers, only for ... no, that's accurate.

Architect of the CapitolIt plays the melody of "When You Wish Upon a Star" on a little speaker as it moves.

While the subway isn't open to the public, it is open to the press, which means that every journey that a member takes can end in a raging conference, particularly if they're in the news. There's also the awkwardness that comes with having to effectively carpool with your biggest rivals, as well as fending off flocks of lobbyists vying for your time and support. Given everything, we'd be sympathetic to anyone who wanted to spend their entire term holed up in their office.

First of all, there's no system for making sure voicemails are checked. Most congressional offices leave that for low-level interns to do, between picking up sandwich orders and dodging flying office supplies. Also, these offices only tend to have between four and seven lines, which, as Wired points out, means they could (theoretically) handle a maximum of 4,200 calls per day. That's a woefully inadequate number, given not just the size of the population that each senator/congressperson represents, but also the growing number of people suddenly giving a s**t about politics in these tumultuous times. For instance, after the racist-ass immigration ban was announced in January 2017, the Capitol received over 1.5 million calls per day from worried/angry/saddened/delighted constituents.

As for emails, you might as well be typing your message on a Word file and deleting it. Not only are emails easy to lose track of, but it isn't uncommon for them to be erased without being read. This also shouldn't need to be said, but no one is paying much attention to the tweet threads or clapbacks or sassy emoji-fests you're firing at your representative on social media -- despite the fact that this is how millions of people are engaging with politics each day. To be fair, that's probably best for those poor interns' mental health.

Occasionally you get pure poetry ...

CongressEdits

And other times, it's pure awfulness. In 2014, an anonymous user was caught editing all mentions of the word "torture" from the Wikipedia article on the recently published report on the CIA's use of "enhanced interrogation" during the War on Terror. Which is like trying to edit an article about the ocean to remove all mentions of water. Earlier that year, another Congress-goer edited the site's article about transgender actress Laverne Cox to describe her as "a real man pretending to be a woman." You should save your A-material for YouTube comment sections, dude.

If you're reading this from Congress, however, good news. @CongressEdits was suspended by Twitter in October 2018 for accidentally doxxing a bunch of senators. So go nuts! You can finally tell us how you feel about the 2016 Ghostbusters movie.

But this is a tale as old as time. The exorbitant price of real estate in Washington, D.C. is such a problem for politicians that it's estimated that a fifth of the lawmakers in the House of Representatives are swapping expensive rentals and roommates for squatting in their offices like divorced salespeople or every parent in every '90s kids movie.

Of course, congressional offices don't come with beds. Which means that these unfortunates have to stash cots and futons in their closets, or suck it up and lay on the couch. As for washroom facilities, there's a gym which lawmakers can use to freshen up (which has historical precedent, it turns out). It's estimated that there are over 100 lawmakers partaking in this impromptu campout, a number that used to include Paul Ryan. It's easier to deal with uncomfortable cots and hard sofas when you have no spine, though.

There are now growing moves to outlaw the practice, because ew. Some suggest that we could do worse than build Congress a dorm. We don't know if we could stand endless news reports about Chuck Schumer and Mitch McConnell squaring off over who keeps drinking the others' milk, but it might not be the worst idea for the GOP to get a good night's sleep at some point.

Adam Wears is on Twitter and Facebook, and has a newsletter dedicated to depressing history facts. It's not as heartbreakingly sad as it sounds, promise!