My mood, character and everything about me changes on a weekly, sometimes hourly basis depending on where the hell I am within the Cycle of Doom™.
I’ve been single for 1,328 days, and in that time I’ve been on a lot of dates.
“Why do lesbians dress like men?” people scream at me while I’m shopping at the Army Outfitters. Well, here is why…
A funny, honest travel diary about going to Cyprus alone for a birthday, emotional baggage included.
Is it ok that AI talks me down from panic… or is it mildly alarming that I’m asking a robot to validate my feelings?
Dear the bloke upstairs, It’s your disgruntled neighbour downstairs, and I’m writing to inform you that I don’t believe you’re as good at sex as your partner’s noises would suggest. …
Who got lucky last night? Jenna got lucky last night!
Do I pick a coping mechanism that expenses my organs or my bank balance?