No doors. Enter into living room, go through wide doorway to bedroom, through another doorway to kitchen (which also had a big pass-through space, which was really convenient if one wanted to fill one’s water glass in the kitchen sink without getting out of bed). Bathroom had a door. One closet.

Had I known the outcome at that time, I surely would have... at the time it was mostly “FUCK FUCK FUCK WHICH CREDIT CARD BILL CAN I SKIP THIS MONTH”

Basically by accident, I moved in with my ladyfriend pretty much the day we started dating. Into a three-room studio with no doors. And I was laid off from my job two months later, and was unemployed more than half a year.

For me? Find a friend to quit with.

Greg, I can’t imagine how it must feel to have to write this piece seems like every damn week. But thank you for doing it.

Wide right.

It’s also important to make sure that Player 2 hits “Start” for themselves, and not just because you wanted to play, and isn’t sleeping or drunk or far, far too young for such an advanced game.

Serious question from someone with basically no actual knowledge of this: are we actually engaging in dogfights? Anywhere? Ever? And if so, against who? I will absolutely admit to being one of those pansy leftists who never served and doesn’t understand why we spend so much on national defense, so this question comes…

I was, oh, I don’t know, 9 or 10. My family was in Boston because my father ran the marathon every year, because he was a crazy person. We were all out at a restaurant (nothing super fancy, but certainly a local bar & grill kinda joint... not an Applebees, is my point), and I thought “hey, ya know what? We’re in New…

My wife and I do three parts whiskey to one part vermouth. Which may just be because we're drunks... but I've come to expect that taste (and she takes even a little bit less vermouth than I do). Is that more like a preference thing, or should we seek help?

Back up off it, the Mutter Museum is the weirdest awesomest place on Earth. They have (and I'm not making this up) a "PIECE OF JOHN WILKES BOOTH." For serious. In a jar. No one seems to know what piece.

Growing up in Western New York ("Home of The Snow"), there's four fairly simple rules:
1- Go ten miles per hour slower than YOU think you can safely,
2- Tap your brakes, don't slam on them (ABS has helped with this, but still),
3- Turn into the skid, and the most important rule of them all,
4- NO ONE ELSE ON THE ROAD…

Restaurant/cafe I worked at in college: I'm waiting tables* graduation weekend (the busiest weekend of the year), and one of my tables, who have thus far been fairly reasonable, flag me down.

This is a totally unretouched photo my wife took of a butternut squash. I'm not sure if she bought it BECAUSE of its hairy butt, or if she bought it in SPITE of its hairy butt... But we sure felt weird eating it. Didn't stop us from eating it, mind you. Just felt weird.

I have always talked to myself, and sometimes in accents. I only get worried when I realize that I can't identify the accent in question.

2015, folks. It's coming.

Okay, look. This may not be the right venue for this question, and I don't mean to take away from the importance of this event... but is no one going to address the fact that these t-shirts are in what appears to be Comic Sans?

No, I'm with you. That movie is weird as all fuck, but I quite like it.

There's a lot of places to get very good steaks. Pat's is only feasible when you're lit up on Passyunk and it's too far or too late to go literally anywhere else. Geno's is only acceptable if you're a crazy racist.

Early college or late high school (can't remember which): invented the "Wu-Tang Clan": Tang, Wegmans brand 'Mountain Woo', and Southern Comfort. This was... not our finest hour.