The biggest fantasy of every record digger, or the biggest heartbreak? (hat tip to Ann)
Life-changing religious experiencs may better your life, but they could also shrink your hippocampus.
No matter how bad you have it, you probably don't have it worse than this guy.
I just don't understand why Joe Pesci's rap career didn't take off.
"He is four. We think he might be a boy." A lovely story of a family growing up with a possibly transgender son.
A sad reminder of hatred and homophobia, "...but Hill and Weimer were busy setting up two new pride flags, on either side of the gap left in the crime's wake. 'We're doubling down,' Hill said."
"I am a radical, card-carrying feminist, and still I put out smiles indiscriminately, hoping to please not only friends and family but also my son’s orthodontist, the barista who rolls his eyes while I fumble apologetically through my wallet, and the ex-boyfriend who cheated on me. If I had all that energy back — all the hours and neurochemicals and facial musculature I have expended in my wanton pursuit of likedness — I could propel myself to Mars and back. Or, at the very least, write the book “Mars and Back: Gendered Constraints and Wasted Smiling.”
Would you eat a lab-grown burger? I'm...not sure.
It's Curiosity's one-year anniversary on Mars!
Hilda, the plump pin-up!
No comments:
Post a Comment