Well now I'm picturing the thong having ripped out pubes stuck in it. Thank you for that...I think.

This is essentially Vogon erotic poetry. Everybody panic.

For these dickheads:

Fuck you Feminazis. I'm a nice guy in real life

I had a Flaming Feminazi once. It was like a Flaming Moe, but with Midol instead of cough syrup. It was pretty good.

Right? Otherwise he'd be doing like I do to relieve stress and yelling at fictional characters on his TV. Man, if I had a nickel for every time I called Bran or Daenerys a "boring cunt," I'd have Lannister money.

I could try. But it might end up with me usurping the Queen.

True, but bourbon made for the overseas market doesn't have to conform to the US regulations governing bourbon. Hence, there is bourbon which you cannot buy in the US.

I narrowly avoided getting mauled by a pitbull when I was 12.

Its a long one but it features puking in a cop car. When I was a freshman in college (I.e. underage), I drank 11 drinks in an hour and decided to walk home in front of the campus police station (smart, I know). A cop stopped me, tried to engage me in conversation (which I failed), gave me a field sobriety test (also…

The second, third and fourth Thursdays of October 2013 were great times to be me.

One of my favourite old-time folk singer/songwriters - Lee Hayes for those who wonder - once said, "This too shall pass. I've had kidney stones, so I know." I've heard that since I was a mere babe.

I've always been a generally lucky person. I guess it started with being adopted by some great parents who aren't exactly poor and also being born smart and relatively attractive, or at least "cute" in the right light. So I hit the lottery right off.

I used to bike commute in Seattle. One morning I was riding to work early so that I could leave early and go to a beer festival. Typically I would ride in at 10 or 11am and work 8 hours, but this time I went in at 8, which is rush hour and the time when people are assholes/aren't quite awake/in a huge hurry.

I consider myself a somewhat lucky person, but my 19th birthday was, seriously, the luckiest day of my life.

My girlfriend and I live in Lake Tahoe. Like a lot of people who live in beautiful places, we pay a fucking premium to rent abject shitholes, which are also drafty. In January of last year, during a snowstorm, my landlord informs me that she'll be 'renovating' my shithole of a place and that I have 29 days to get out…

My college town has a big festival, complete with live music, for St. Patrick's Day every year. Of course, like the good Irish woman I am, I got completely hammered and made out with a stranger while Manchester Orchestra was playing. His friends wanted to leave so he did, but not without getting my number.