Dear 1990s Youth Pastor,
After watching an episode of The Golden Girls last week, my 9-year-old daughter asked me why “old people” — who can’t have babies — would want to have sex. I tackled it head-on by calmly and matter-of-factly explaining to her that we would “talk about it later.”
For the next 24 hours, I wracked my brain. Why do people have sex? Or specifically, what do you tell a little girl about non-procreative sex? And why hadn’t I prepared for this question? Especially if I was planning on exposing her to that sassy minx Blanche Devereaux.
At least once a week, my mother tells me about running into someone in our hometown. I always ask, “How’s she doing?” That is the question I ask. The question my mother answers is, “How much does she weigh?”
Occasionally, she will say, “She looks wonderful! She started running,” or “Rail-thin since her husband left. I hope she can keep it off.”
But since Kentucky is in the Diabetes/Bible belt, more often than not, she sighs and says with a quiver in her voice, “Oh, Becca. She’s big as a house.” …
Ladies, we’ve all heard the mantra for preventing urinary tract infections: drink cranberry juice, urinate before, after, or during sex — I can never remember which — and most importantly, wipe front to back. If you’re like me, you thought to yourself, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever, doctor, you’re not the boss of me.” But after my last UTI, I figured, what the hell, and decided to give it a shot.
This is what I learned.
Seriously, nobody. Not even my mother, who has basically been stalking me since I was born: invading my privacy, taking my picture without…
Merry Christmas, Lauren! It’s me, your Herpes Simplex. I hope it’s okay to drop onto your lower lip like this. Sorry, I’m such a mess. I barely had a chance to crust over. It looks like I made it in the nick of time, though.
Wow! Everybody’s here. Honestly, I just feel grateful to be included.
Is that your cousin, Kelly? Your mom’s right; she gets prettier and prettier. She’s a doctor? With three kids? How on Earth does she do it? …
The United States of “America” America, 244, debuted her transformed body on multiple media platforms Saturday. While many applauded the representative democracy on her svelte new form, some on social media worried America was promoting dangerous, outdated standards of government body types. Commenters on Twitter questioned whether discussing a country’s size was ever appropriate.
America quickly responded to the controversy with the following statement on her Instagram.
“I believe in body neutrality. Whatever our size, we should all be comfortable, confident, and accepted. My weight loss was never about looking a certain way; it was about improving my health.
It never fails. Every Halloween, bats get an image makeover. Suddenly, we are all supposed to pretend they’re cute. My daughter starts drawing flattering pictures and spouting off bat trivia like some miniature David Attenborough — without the raw sexuality, obviously. I nod along and feign interest in her flying fox slide show because I don’t have the heart to tell her the truth.
Bats suck! And here’s why.
1) COVID-19 isn’t the bat’s first rodeo.
Ebola, SARS, MERS, not to mention rabies, bats have had their hideous, skeletal claws all over every single one of them. Have you seen…
When I was 23, my dog Grunt and I moved from Kentucky to Seattle. Within a month, I was riding a bus to work, eating Chinese food from paper cartons, and dating a Jewish guy. It was a world I had only seen on television: a 1990’s sitcom that remembered Asian people.
Seattle had everything — hiking, museums, ferries, cool bars and restaurants. My favorite thing, though, was the dog parks. Parks just for dogs! I was blown away. These parks were substantially nicer than most of the parks for people in Kentucky. …
I won’t make you wait for the answer. It’s the American Robin. Hands down. No contest.
Robin mating looks like a high five that keeps missing. It’s like they’re wrestling, and their genitals accidentally stick together for a second. It’s how perverts think sorority pillow fights work.
Chicken sex looks like an assault; robin sex looks like neither one is consenting. It’s objectively the worst.
Who am I to judge bird sex, you ask? Over the last decade, I planted dozens of native shrubs and perennials in my yard. I was only hoping to observe birds eating seeds and whatnot…
I get it. Gay men have had a lot going on these last 20 years: breaking down stereotypes, getting married and starting families, finally staking out their place in an oppressive, homophobic world. I’m happy for you. Really, I am. I even understand that you might not have as much time or need for an “old hag” like myself as you used to.
Funny thing is, though, you seem to have plenty of time for these newfangled “allies.” This latest one, we’ll just call her Ally, sure is a pretty little thing. I saw on Facebook that she rode on…
“Work” has appeared in Points in Case and Reductress.