I am a fan of sex. Even when it's not nuzzling against my lap, I find it heartwarming to know it's still out there in the world. Yet sadly, there are people who insist on handling it recklessly.
Go ahead and get lost while your Kindle and I chat. I just want to talk some business.
Strep Throat: One woman uses her throat to tell people to stop being pussies.
There's nothing you can do about it, because the Universe is working to make sure the old man hates you forever.
Sometimes, joining a cult means finding yourself attached at the junk to a creepy weirdo who couldn't figure out a less shameless way to get laid.
Kid's going to make for a terrible first boyfriend.
Why is anyone naked, you know? Aren't we all, on some level, always naked, and also never naked? But on a more hometown level, I'm naked because I used my clothes to put out a fire someone started in your linen closet.
Thanks to romantic comedies and crappy comedians, we know that men are crude, shallow boors that only care about sex, and women are weepy sensitive hippies that only care about poetry and what's on the inside.
It's much simpler than you think.
There really is no non-awkard word for that.
If you can suddenly reinvent keeping warm while getting cozy with a great novel, there's no reason you can't reinvent keeping warm while getting cozy with a great lover.
No matter how nasty you like to get in your leather-studded Bone Chamber, there are multiple species of the animal kingdom who still put you to shame.
Just because some of these demographics aren't as loud as the majority of the cookbook-buying community doesn't mean that their needs should be ignored, right? This is why I'm proud to present my new cookbook.