Fun story:

So right before my divorce was finalized, my best friend died and left me her dog. For five years, ex and I had always said/joked/seriously opined that if something happened, I would get our dog. I was his primary doggie caregiver and he gave fewer fucks.

At the Shelter I work at we have had a number of people insist that the adoption be done in their name so that their partner can't get the pet when they split. One poor guy found this out as they were processing the adoption. I will never forget the look on his face.

A few years ago, my aunt wouldn't shut up about how she was getting into great shape for the family reunion cruise we were gonna take in May. My other aunts/her sisters aren't small women and didn't have nearly enough time to dedicate to getting in shape (and two couldn't afford to go), so it was kind of obnoxious.

My Southern Baptist mom gave my daughter (age 5) a "My First Bible" picture book last Xmas (I'm an Atheist). I asked my kid what she thought of it, and she said, "The lions are boring. They don't eat anyone."

My first kiss, however, was in my school library with a guy who had just eaten a whole bag of Doritos

The guy I lost my virginity to is now a plastic surgeon at an Ivy League med school.

My first kiss has been married to his lovely husband for 10 years now. Granted, we are old enough that no one even thought being out in high school was possible, especially not for nice Catholic kids like us. One of my 2 gay ex-boyfriends.

To be fair to Cruise, though, I think time has shown that it's impossible for anyone to look like anything other than a nervous captive animal in his presence.

I guess their contract was at least as good as the one she had with Cruise.

So true. My sister in law worked for Williams Sonoma years ago when they were based in San Francisco (maybe they still are — I'm too lazy to look it up), and she interviewed with Chuck and got to know him really well. He was a lovely man, and at the time W-S sold actual, useful items that were on the higher end of the…

Six years ago my then 3 year old son saw the Santa version of the snowman pan in the catalog and asked me to get it. I did because I was 7 months pregnant and felt guilty about this being his last Christmas without a sibling. WORST DECISION. First, the fancy ass decorations in the catalog were done with fruit…

By the way, it's worth noting that W-S founder Chuck Williams grew up dirt-poor and fatherless, and was forced to work on a date farm (literally named Sniffs) all through high school. Wikipedia says he also served in World War II as a plane mechanic. He is a legitimately self-made man and a fantastic American…

i need dave to dox himself rn so i can love him

I've been super-excited to use this story since he sent it in a month ago. That was the deciding factor in why I went with this topic this week (I had a few I could've used) — I just really, REALLY wanted to use this story.

He had me with his opening paragraph. And it only got better.

Breadsticks. For the mouth part of your face.

For me, church was youth group every Wednesday night (I picked up work shifts every other Wednesday), which was basically church with minor supervision in the form of a cooOoOOoooky youth pastor that was totally down and hip to our jive and cooly fresh yo, and understood our young feels, and, "...word, dog. I get you.…

"You know, it's so sad," Dora said to me, "She's so lonely because her friends are all dead and her children don't like her. She's a mean racist coot."

Someone needs to give Dave Hogan a publishing contract. That story was masterfully written and incredibly funny. I could feel the teenage anxiety wafting off it. Bravo, sir. Bravo.