After you’ve removed your clothes, but before the interviewer climaxes. You lose a lot of bargaining power post-orgasm.

It’s not as though you have to ask in the most douchey way possible...

Yeah, even if. I can fully appreciate the “this is the super-safe place where I store my guns” argument, but accidents happen during the __% of the time when the guns just happen to not be where they usually are or should be. If you have kids, you quickly realize that the one day out of the year when your kitchen…

Yeah, I grew up in the South, and about half my friends and their families hunted regularly, and about half of those people felt the need to own handguns in addition to the guns any reasonable sportsmen would actually need. Virtually all of them had methods of “securing” their guns, and would brag about how owning…

My wife and I ask about whether our son’s playdates’ parents own guns, and if they do, he just doesn’t go to their place, regardless of what sort of measures they theoretically have to “secure” their firearms.

“I usually wake up at 6:30am . . . I start with some Kundalini meditation and a 23-minute breath set—along with a copper cup of silver needle and calendula tea—before my son Rohan wakes.”

Ugh. Wrong. Just wrong.

Sort of. We bought our condo in Manhattan (not a house, obviously) at the bottom of the market, and we spent every last cent we had on the down payment. The local housing market rebounded like crazy over the past 2-3 years, and now our place is worth 50% more than what we paid for it. However, it’s kind of an abstract…

Yeah, we researched this thoroughly when we started trying. My wife and I are sensible people who would never endanger an unborn child, but we’re also, y’know, fun. Women have a pretty decent window between conception and the point at which they have to knock off the partying. Anyone who’s trying (and thus frequently…

Whenever I see women who are die-hard Republicans, I always get the strong impression that I’m looking at a form of institutionally reinforced and widely undiagnosed Stockholm Syndrome.

My answer is the same as when you’re eating at a place and go over closing time or a shift change, or when your kid throws an entire meal on the ground, or when you order something ludicrously complicated with a ton of extras:

It was a few weeks ago, I think. I’ll have to check the time-stamp on the video.

I’m just picturing a coroner looking down at you, shaking his head in weary resignation and muttering, “When, oh when, will these kids learn?”

Gearing up for that Eiffel 69 I’ve been reading about...

Oh, this one’s always fun. Of course, I’ve never done it with the other side of the tower, because extra penises always seem so redundant...

Every foursome I’ve ever had was unplanned. Each time, it was just the fortuitous confluence of booze and opportunity.

Yeah, that’s all kinds of overload. Those pictures go flying right by my “oh, that looks tasty” impulse and land smack-dab in the middle of the “that would sit uncomfortably in my stomach like a goddamned bowling ball” part of my brain. It’s not even appetizing. I feel like I’m looking at the Sugar Rush game from…

Chuck Klosterman wrote a great essay about the Real World years ago where he charted the casts’ devolution from a group of diverse, well-rounded individuals who had jobs, cared about issues and interacted like actual human beings to a handful of archetypes (e.g., angry black guy, naive country girl, flamboyant…

Okay, full disclaimer: I spent the summer after my freshman year of college “cooking” at Pizza Hut.* I never eat the stuff anymore (though I certainly did at the time), but I would wear the shit out of that hat.

Great reference to match a great avatar/name.