“started from the batter now we’re here” - Intern Raquel
Get the recipe for these D®izzy Dreidel Cookies in our Epic Holigay Grab Bag.
Yeah, sometimes sex really is weird or gross or embarrassing or everything at once — and that is part of why it is awesome.
Don’t you dare leave me in here, is what she said. I would never leave you in here.
I had $50 to my name and college tuition due so soon. I put $45 in her commissary account. And I left her there. I hadn’t asked for anything for Christmas in years.
The legacy of The X-Files in our real lives is a contradictory one — that just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you, but also that your obsession won’t save you.
a most respectful #wcw FitForAFemme follow that blog. Homegirl is a friend, fellow writer, Speakeasy camarada, Momma, and fierce fierce human.
#autostraddle #fitforafemme #homegirlseries
It’s #TBT, so here’s a photo of Senior Editor Yvonne as a tiny human! http://instagram.com/p/weXBVoAld8/
Fuck normal; who wants to be normal? I choose this abnormal, absurd world filled with unashamed characters that have multiplied in me the gift of love, of eyes wide open, of a curious soul and an accepting mind. Who have given unto each other something the world can’t: a sense that this is the norm, that what we are doing isn’t exceptional, or strange, but merely the way things have always been. That’s what home feels like. There is no consciousness of your otherness, you simply are. It is a place that does not seek to define you by the things you are “not,” but rather by an affirmation of your presence and being.
As I walked through the streets of Berkeley tonight listening to the overwhelmingly white crowd chant things like “Whose streets? Our streets!” and “This is what democracy looks like!” I felt uncomfortable. I passed white people holding signs that said “I can’t breathe” and I felt uncomfortable....
When the ceramic snow village came down from the attic and the tree went up in my living room, everything was going to be okay. Christmas would make it okay. My mom threw dishes, smashed them against the floor and the wall, but she never even chipped her Southern Living Christmas china. My dad wasn’t home very much; he had to travel all the time for work, but he never missed a holiday moment. He chopped down the tree. He untangled the lights. My dad made a “Santa Stops Here” sign for my birthday one time, and he was right: During the regular year, we had to choose between crutches for my broken ankle or cigarettes for my mom, but Santa always gave everyone in my family something so good. My mom bought elves and she bought angels. She displayed them in every nook of our house. Nobody got slapped at Christmas.
Dating can be a total bloodsport. Lolita Bandita walks you through what to do when sexytimes go red.
