Latest posts
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Wednesday’s Child Is Full of Rage (and I Feel Seen)
The return of Wednesday on Netflix resonates deeply with fans who identify with her dark, complex persona. Jenna Ortega’s portrayal transforms Wednesday from a mere caricature into a relatable, emotionally nuanced character. The show embraces her cynicism and independence, offering a feminist icon who survives without conforming, ultimately representing a survival strategy for many.
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How to Break a Lost Boy: The Queer, Chaotic, Heartbreaking Romance You Didn’t Know You Needed
Neverlanded: The Boy Who Wouldn’t Land is a queer romantic dramedy set in modern Austin, focusing on Peter Panwell, an emotionally avoidant UX designer. The story explores themes of love, emotional accountability, and the struggles of growing up while navigating chaotic friendships, culminated in a journey of self-discovery and human connection.
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America: Where the Policy Changes But the Passive-Aggression Stays the Same
Somewhere between the overturned classified documents and the overturned convictions, the Trump administration (yes, that one again) decided to quietly reverse a decades-old policy that withheld federal aid from states that penalized individuals or companies for not participating in Israel boycotts. Don’t worry if you missed it—most people were too busy photoshopping mugshots onto T-shirts
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Move Over, The Notebook—My Boyfriend Moved to a Shithole For Me
Romeo drank poison for love.Jack froze to death in the North Atlantic.Allie gave up wealth and status for Noah’s sweaty carpentry chest. And Matthew?Matthew moved to Abilene, Texas. And that, dear reader, is what we call a real-ass love story. Let’s be honest—every great romance needs a setting.Pride and Prejudice had the English countryside.When Harry
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The Blonde Upstairs Is Gone: On Loni Anderson, Loss, and the Women Who Knew the Assignment
Somewhere in America, a bottle-blonde receptionist in a sleeveless satin blouse just took a long drag off her Virginia Slim and said, “Well, shit.” Then she turned off the office lights and walked herself gently into the dusk. Loni Anderson died yesterday. Seventy-nine. A “prolonged illness,” her publicist confirmed, as though time itself weren’t already
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We Now Return to Our Regularly Scheduled Panic: Hurricane Season, Sponsored by Anxiety and Sandbags
Ah, August. That magical time of year when the air turns to soup, your dog refuses to go outside, and your neighbor starts casually mentioning evacuation routes like it’s small talk. Yes, friends—it’s officially Hurricane Season™. The East Coast is once again flirting with Mother Nature’s wrath, and this year she seems especially cranky. Maybe
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Netflix August Drops: What’s New, Who’s Crying, and Why That Rom-Com Feels Like a Fever Dream”
August has arrived, sweaty and screen-lit, and Netflix has once again hurled content at us like a toddler with a glitter cannon—chaotic, sparkly, and mostly aimed at the wall. This month’s offerings include the much-anticipated return of Wednesday and the release of My Oxford Year, a rom-com that sounds like someone typed “feelings + accents
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We All Live in a TikTok Now: How Pop Culture in 2025 Became an Algorithm Wearing Lip Gloss
Pop culture used to be a mirror. It reflected us—warped, stylized, a little hungover—but recognizable. Now it’s more like a funhouse trapdoor. You open Instagram to check your ex’s vacation photos and fall face-first into a sped-up Olivia Rodrigo remix choreographed by six 19-year-olds in matching depression hoodies. Somewhere, a Marvel spinoff trailer auto-plays. Somewhere
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Finally, Equal Rights to Cringe: “I Kissed A Boy” Puts Gays Where They Belong—on Trashy Dating Shows
So it’s finally happened. The gays have a dating show. Not a makeover show. Not a trauma documentary. Not another sob-stained coming out arc framed by string lights and tearful piano music. An actual, honest-to-God dating show. And not just any dating show—a trashy, sun-drenched, kissing-at-hello reality dating show with barely clothed men, confessionals, and
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Witch Hunt or Fever Dream? Trump Declares War on Kamala, Beyoncé, and Oprah—Because Apparently the Moon Was Booked
In a move that would be deeply concerning if it weren’t also deeply incoherent, former President Donald J. Trump has called for the prosecution of Vice President Kamala Harris, cultural deity Beyoncé Knowles-Carter, and global empathy czarina Oprah Winfrey in connection with…the Epstein fallout. Yes, that Epstein fallout. The conspiracy theory that refuses to die,