I was ging to write a short feature about a friend’s book I really love, and this is what happened.
“We have waged a war, or rather let a war be waged, against all of the animals we eat. This war is new and it has a name: factory farming.”
I already have want I want this year, but that doesn’t ever stop me from window shopping. Especially to take my mind off of what I just wrote in this post.
“Woe is me, all summer long I was happy and free. Save my soul, the board of education took away my parole.”
Find out why Louis Armstrong wore a Star of David around his neck for most of his life.
A gift guide that somehow ends up being about the obvious benefits of consensual homosexual polygamy.
When Marlo asks what she was like at five years old I’ll pull up this post and say, “This is a small but very accurate sample.”
Guilt is a pretty useless, ineffectual emotion. Guilt is not what I feel when coming to these realizations. In fact, I feel duty.
She either wants to be this character or Elsa for Halloween, and she only has eight months to decide.
I know he’s begging for another cat, but you are the voice of reason in his life. None of these things require a litter box.