When I was 19 years old, I went to Cancun, Mexico for spring break with eight of my girlfriends. They all flew together and I trailed them like toilet paper on a shoe because I was broke and the cheaper flights got in later.
I remember panicking as the plane descended into the airport. What if I’m the only person on the hotel shuttle? What if the driver decides to take me to an abandoned parking garage and cut me up into small cubes.
After being dropped off at the resort without so much as a single flesh wound, I…
Hey, everybody, it’s me, Keith Raniere — your Vanguard! For any parasites who don’t know me, I am the founder of NXIVM, an organization that offers life-changing Executive Success Programs, which I oversee from jail.
But it’s not all business here in the clink. In my ‘free’ time, I enjoy listening to music and recommending new songs to my slaves. My biggest obsession over the holiday was Taylor Swift’s surprise album “Evermore” — a 15-track masterpiece worthy of a million yellow sashes.
Here is a list of my favorite songs, which I have reviewed for your education and acceptance as…
“[Wintering] is a personal, original and wayward examination of the idea that, as humans, we have — and need to have — our fallow seasons…” — The Guardian
“Over the last week or so, millions of people […] have been surprised to learn that Hilaria Baldwin, 36 and the mother of five children with her husband, the actor Alec Baldwin, is not a Spaniard but an American who was born and raised in Boston and who was known, at least until 2009, as Hillary.” — The New York Times
Winter is not a popular time of year for many people…
I went surfing for the first time today and it was bad — bad with a “B,” as in, “Brendan.”
My instructor, whose name I’m sad to report is actually Brendan, assured me that I’d have a great time and that the waves were perfect.
If they are so perfect, Brendan, then why do I have 10 gallons of sand in my crotch?
Brendan, who moonlights as a throw pillow, said that sometimes Mother Nature likes to remind us to stay humble.
Thanks for the pep talk, Brendan, but I am the most humble person I know.
Before Brendan and…
When I used to think about what it might be like renovating an old home, I always pictured Diane Lane in Under the Tuscan Sun. A writer in the prime of her life buys a tumbledown villa that — with a little love and pizza grease — she turns into a beautiful architectural escape from her cheating scumbag ex-husband.
High on the idea of making this Touchstone Pictures masterpiece my reality, I bought an Italianate-style home built in 1855 and got to work.
I was the Diane Lane of central Pennsylvania.
Here is a list of 10 things that deadbeat…
You just caught a whiff of something sour, and baby, it’s your hair! Sure, showering is an option, but washing your mane too frequently can cause split ends. Dry-shampoo could work, but it’s costly and often bad for the environment. What’s a festering pile of dead skin to do?
You’re in luck. I’ve pulled together a list of simple, at-home alternatives that will be kinder to your wallet, Mother Nature, and your greasy-ass hair:
It’s Saturday morning in South Carolina, and the sun is a flaming hot Cheeto.
As I unload the beach gear from the truck, a severely sunburned family saunters past in matching tank tops.
The walk to the ocean is short, but I am stuck behind a portly couple whose thick, vascular ankles burrow deep into the dunes with every step.
Eventually I arrive at the water’s edge and turn to survey my seating options.
Is the tide coming in or out?
Which direction is the sand blowing?
Where is the most obnoxious music coming from?
Out. East. Everywhere.
Dear Future Newlyweds,
I’m sorry that you‘ve had to postpone your wedding. For what it’s worth, wedding days are not as blissful as they seem. In an effort to make you feel better about having to push yours, I’m going to share some fuckups from mine:
Have you ever seen a woman who’s had so much work done, you can’t tell if she’s 29 or 49? It’s scary and sad and makes me want to call my mom and tell her she’s beautiful.
In the age of Botox, where celebrities stay 35 years old for 20 years, it’s hard to convince people to let nature take its course. But what if the answer to all of our aging woes came in the form of a synonym not a syringe?
What if we just started calling the symptoms of getting older something so nauseatingly adorable that we’re…