Latest posts
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Why I Write: A Totally Reasonable, Not-At-All-Desperate Manifesto of Emotional Chaos and Delusions of Immortality
Someone recently asked me why I write. Just a casual question. Like “What’s your Starbucks order?” or “Do you think the apocalypse will be AI or climate-based?” And after initially wanting to answer with a vague “Because it’s cheaper than therapy,” I realized… no, this is actually a rich and layered question. So I dug…
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Trickle-Down Yacht Club: Jeff Bezos Built a Superyacht Out of Your Food Stamps
Oh, America. Land of the free, home of the grossly overworked Amazon associate who just peed in a bottle so Jeff Bezos can afford to put marble countertops in his second yacht. Not the yacht—the yacht’s yacht. A little backup boat, like a bougie sidecar for when your primary vessel is too emotionally burdened by…
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Daddy Issues: NATO, Mark Rutte specifically, Hopes to Be Trump’s Ivanka—Instead, They’re His Tiffany
There are headlines that make you sigh, others that make you wince, and then there’s: “Daddy, You’re My Daddy.” No, that’s not the title of a long-lost porn parody of Succession. It’s what Donald Trump claimed NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte said to him—affectionately, mind you—during a NATO summit in the Netherlands, in reference to…
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Your Loved One Is in Good Hands: The Ones That Just Changed a Bedpan
Welcome, dear family member! We know it’s hard leaving Nana with strangers who call her “sweetheart” instead of by her actual name, but rest assured: she is absolutely in good hands. And by “good hands,” we mean the chapped, underpaid, chronically overworked hands of Carla, who has just finished wiping diarrhea off a shower chair…
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Y’allternative Medicine: The Only Essential Oil Strong Enough to Cure Facts
Welcome to 2025, where science is optional, vibes are currency, and the cure for cancer might be hiding in a mason jar full of moonshine and bootstraps. Forget Big Pharma. Forget Moderna. Forget literally anything that went through clinical trials. There’s a new sheriff in town and she’s wearing an “Ivermectin Is My Truth” t-shirt…
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Repressitol PM: Because Sleeping Through Your Trauma Is the New Self-Care
Introducing Repressitol PM, the only sleep aid clinically designed for those of us whose nightly routine includes laying in bed and remembering everything we’ve ever done wrong since 1996. Is your bedtime ritual more like a horror anthology curated by your subconscious? Do you routinely wake up at 3:07 a.m. wondering if that joke you…
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So I Found the Love of My Life… Now What?
The Rest of You May As Well Log Off. There comes a time in every former trauma dumpling’s life when the clouds part, the birds chirp, and some suspiciously handsome man with stable communication skills and actual emotional intelligence shows up. For me, it happened eight months ago. And now? Honestly—I’m unwell. In the best…