Cancer of the Magillicutty.

My male GP offered to do my pelvic exam. Since he and I have established an appreciation of each other’s forthright manner (when I told him I was fat because I eat poorly and rarely exercise he was struck dumb from the shock of having a fat patient own that fact.) I wasn’t suprised when he…

“Because we had sex!”

You know how people like to end their fortune cookies with “in bed”? That’s fun. Gus and I made up, “with a shovel in a mass grave,” to end our fortunes and that was funner. “You will overcome a great challenge (with a shovel in a mass grave.)” But we’ve got a better one now.…

Spit to Dunk Your Butts In.

LE is shuffling out of the pink froth of little-girlhood into the kaleidoscopic colors of kid-hood. So she doesn’t dress-up anymore, in flouncy pink skirts with clashing wrinkled leggings and a broken Barbie tiara.  But she got a toy microphone for Christmas. Along with a Belinda Carlisle CD and…a Lady Gaga CD. I put them…

The Heartbreak of 19th Century Masturbation

I spent three hours early this morning researching 19th century masturbation for my next article, until I was just so goddamn sad that I had to stop. I have been doing a series for The Week where I look at the outrageous hygiene and social advice given to people 100 years ago. It’s fun, funny.…