Litigating the past crimes of dead relatives ahead of Thanksgiving.
Tales of Peloton bikes repurposed in the woods and a peace offering for Emster.
New writers and old editors cause Monica major tsuris.
MQ talks shop, talks shit, and steels herself against intimacy because she is strong.
Bennington is at wits end, convinced that no one loves him.
I’m reasonable, but I will hurt you if necessary.
Though happy nonetheless (and, in the old sense, quite gay).
I’m trying to get some folie à deux on with her and my husband.
My cousin Bennington has unconventional tastes...
I can’t give everyone the time of day, yet they all want a piece of me like chicken dinner.
Bennington hacks into his editor’s email and finds a disturbing new animal hire at Splice.
Ariana Grande helps kids discover their complex sexualities, even if she doesn’t give it a name.
But you don’t see me making a big deal about it.
The good stuff is out there.
The city where you can buy anything.
A brief guide to the Vietnamese sex industry.
Is gender liberation a modern delusion?
Tabloid outings and the need for “either/or” categories.
Tracing the flow chart of moral decency downward.
I don’t want to read John Updike’s erotica. Did anyone, ever?
Obviously NSFW. The Advertising Standards Authority (ASA) ruled the ad was "likely to cause serious offense." More at The Verge.
Disappointingly SFW. Live from Sardo's, an L.A. karaoke bar that hosts "Porn Star Karaoke" on Tuesday nights. Ron Jeremy loves it. Via Grantland.