People are meant to move. We’ve been doing it for tens of thousands of years. Chasing mammoths across the tundra, chasing shiny pebbles down frigid mountain streams, chasing native people out of their homelands. Somewhere in all that traveling we learned to grow plants in rows and gather cattle into groups and squint…

You’re pooping right now, reading this. Probably constipated. Or you’re in the back of an Uber, stuck in traffic. You’re half-listening to a conference call. You’re watching the refs watch a replay, watching our democracy crumble, watching the subway doors close in some dude’s face. All the while, time is marching on.…

America, our possessions are ruining us. Even as you read these words, container ships are churning through the waters of the Pacific, carrying the candle holders and tea strainers and duvet covers and coffee tables that will appear in front of you in Target, flooding your brain with dopamine, rewarding your anxious…

There’s an idea that parallel universes exist simultaneously, and every possible outcome of every event in history is happening within them. If this is right, then somewhere in time and space, Dez Bryant made that catch, baby Donald Trump died of SIDS, 9/11 wasn’t an inside job and Rougned Odor still punched the shit…

Let’s talk about pets. They are made for cuddling. They nuzzle and purr and wiggle. They show their cute little bellies, asking for scratches. When we’re blue, they bring comfort. When they act like silly imbeciles, we make videos of them and share their antics with strangers on the internet. Pets give us something to…

For all the fathers and mothers out there, when Girl Scout Cookie season rolls around, your first and foremost emotion should be relief. It could be worse: You could be dealing with a Boy Scout instead. Those poor saps have to sell popcorn. It’s clearly an inferior product. Everyone loves cookies!

I bet you know some bad kids. Not your kids. Your kids are lovely, imaginative, super-athletic, and smart as a whip. I’m talking about your step-sister’s kids and your boss’s kids and the kids on your son’s soccer team and those kids who always end up hurting someone at the neighborhood block parties. Screw those…

I’m a child of a broken home. Before they split, my broke-ass parents had a couple nickels to rub together; afterward, a lonesome nickel did little to fill up the pantry in my dad’s house, and he had just enough ignorant confidence in the kitchen to get himself into trouble. The dishes he created were sometimes…

It’s that time of year. Time to visit those weird, faraway relatives in weird, faraway places, where the Target and the Costco and the Whole Foods are all switched around. It’s time to roll down hundreds of miles of dear old Ike’s eight-lane American dream, leaving one suburban hellscape for another. It’s time for the…

I am unable to take a vacation. I go on vacations, but the idea of just sitting around doing nothing is pure torture. On our honeymoon, I made my new bride go on a canoe trip, which ended poorly when I paddled her directly into a scraggly bush overhanging the riverbank. Our first fight as a married couple! Some years…

I read a lot of children’s books. Some are terrible, many are decent, and a few are truly wonderful. Most authors don’t have the staying power to slot multiple entries in all three categories while achieving worldwide fame and fortune; in fact, Dr. Seuss is the only one that comes to mind.

School is out. What the hell are we going to do with these kids? Camps cost a fortune. Sports leagues are a pain in the ass. And who wants to stare at another listless, self-aware gorilla at the zoo? What a downer!

Last night, I knew how it was going to end before Game 6 even began. I’m from northeast Ohio.

We are a vast, disconnected, sleep-deprived sleeper cell. We are everywhere you look, hiding in plain sight, picking out the just-ripe mangoes at the grocery store or pushing our swinging kids at the playground. We kiss boo-boos, braid hair, and fix the kitchen faucet. Call us Mr. Moms, stay-at-home dads, or house…

Working in an office is a terrible way to spend your life. Everyone knows this. It’s why Office Space is a cult classic. It’s why Ron Swanson is a cult hero. It’s why tech companies stuff their buildings with ping pong tables and bean bag chairs and yoga studios, desperately trying to convince everyone present that…

Your mom is going to die. Your dad is also going to die.