It might seem like most animals are as lusty as a bunch of teens at Burning Man, but animals are surprisingly picky about whom they mate. Many have elaborate courtship rituals that would exhaust your average human. While others get kinkier than a hentai video.
Here are a few of the strangest animal sex facts you probably don’t need to know…unless you like animal sex facts.
Much like humans, female black widows are constantly torn between their desire for food or sex. …
From the moment we take our first gasps of air, we hunger for touch. And out of all our senses, touch is the only one that does not decrease with age. From the cradle to the grave, we never lose the power of touch.
But what happens when you are deprived of physical touch?
To answer this question, psychologist Harry Harlow conducted some ethically disturbing experiments. Using baby Rhesus monkeys as his test subjects, he isolated the newborns for months in a dark, windowless cage he called the “pit of despair.”
When the monkeys were released from isolation, they were mentally deranged. Some just rocked back in forth and refused food. Others were aggressive and attacked the other monkeys. Many self-mutilated by tearing out their hair and biting their legs. …
Poet George Gordon Byron (Lord Byron) poisoned so many hearts that he came with a warning label — “Mad, bad, and dangerous to know.”
But the woman who invented that catchphrase is less known.
Lady Caroline Lamb wrote those words in her diary shortly after meeting the notorious rake in 1812. But she also scribbled beneath that dire warning a far more prophetic one:
‘That beautiful pale face is my fate.’
In the following years, Caroline pursued Byron despite his bad-boy reputation. No, she didn’t just pursue. …
Jonathan’s* dating profile read “dog dad.”
My mother always told me that men who love dogs are good people. I thought I had finally found a good one. I am sure you know the feeling? After endless uninspiring dates, you meet someone amazing. And although you are not picking out baby names, oxytocin messes with your brain enough to finally get that flutter of hope — you actually like someone.
But I made a huge mistake. It’s one many people make in the throes of infatuation.
I never got the name of his dog.
“Always get the name of the dog” is a maxim beat into every reporter's head. It means you should never interview someone without asking specific questions, especially the name of their dog. In other words, the devil is in the details. …
Have you ever sat down in your dimly lit cubicle and longed for a more glamorous job? Maybe you wish you had never given up on your dream to be an actress, singer, or professional athlete. If only you could go back in time.
But not too far back in time. Because if you time-traveled to another century…the following dream jobs would have really sucked.
Today, you might wag a finger at actresses who fly their friends to island paradises for birthday celebrations. You might even call them “hypocrites.”
Twenty-five hundred years ago in Ancient Greece, that is exactly what actors were called. In Greek, the word “hypocrite” means “stage actor, pretender or dissembler.” …
This twin flames nonsense is Plato’s fault. Or at least he lit the fire.
In Plato’s Symposium, he taught that humans were once round with four hands and four feet. But humans misbehaved, so Zeus split them in half. The punishment was ruthless because they were forced to search the ends of the earth for their other half. And only when they found that other half would they feel whole again.
That Plato was a real arse.
As a children’s book author, I am probably biased, but I think Shel Silverstein better illuminates the soulmate problem.
In Shel Silverstein’s book, The Missing Piece, we encounter a sad little triangle called “the missing piece” who is eager to fit into . . . you guessed it — his missing piece. …
I had a therapist once who had a few sharp edges. One day, I was in a session with Miss Ratched* when I word vomited a long-winded rant about a friend. This friend was IMO, screwing up her life, so I offered her some meaningful advice. My friend did not appreciate it.
I took a deep breath and asked my usual rhetorical question, “What an asshole, right?” Miss Ratched’s reply was not what I was expecting.
“Yes, you are an asshole.”
“Wait…excuse me. I am the asshole?”
“Yes, you are. Did your friend ask for your advice?”
“Well, ummmm….not exactly.”
Miss Ratched then gave me a gentle lecture on being a better listener, empathizing FIRST, and most importantly,…not giving advice when someone did not ask for it. …
I saved a few text messages from him. Not the abusive ones. Those battle-scarred words would eventually fade.
No, the messages I saved were my words. The words that showed how hard I fought for us. How much I bent myself into odd shapes to be what he wanted me to be. All the compromises I made in the vain hope we would return to the place we began. And how much bloodless pride I sacrificed on that alter.
I saved those words because I knew I would someday need them. I knew I would get to the point that many people arrive at months or years after ending a relationship. …