It’s 2021. Stop telegraphing to the world how much you need to come.
You haven’t had a truly satisfying orgasm in a very long time and everyone can tell.
You’re acting like a maniac.
You’re day drinking.
You’re crazy defensive all the time.
And you’ve literally just gone viral screaming at the crossing guard at your child’s school and your arch enemy has created a mash-up video that includes you, that hysterical woman rocking back and forth in her car seat from TikTok and some random braying goat.
Something needs to change.
And that something is: You are going to start having quality mind-blowing orgasms this year. …
If you venture into the fetid lands of Internet marketing, be forewarned. Nothing is as it seems.
Chris Waller’s handsome 20-year-old smiling, mugging face is all over YouTube promising to make you rich just like him.
His final video, on November 22, 2019, before his death 53 days later on January 14 at the age of 20 was called “Facebook Targeting for 5 Trending Products (EASY).”
“In this video, I’m showing you five winning products that you can sell this Christmas!” Waller speaks energetically to the camera like a pro — a Zoomer Tony Robbins for his nearly 100,000 subscribers and acolytes. He gestures as he speaks into the camera, and his demeanor is resolute and positive. Endless encouragement and enthusiasm. He’s in it. …
The 19-year-old never planned on writing a masterpiece.
As the terrifying dark rains thundered down on the mansion where Mary Shelley stayed in Switzerland in 1816 during the cholera pandemic, one of her traveling companions gave her a challenge that would change her life.
For most of the ill-conceived vacation, Shelley had simply been listening to her traveling companions.
Every night, she would pay close attention to the lively debates between Lord Byron and Percy Bysshe Shelley over just what the limits of man’s relationship to modern medicine might be. …
With his nation in quarantine, the singer is belting hope night after…
Scientists, please, have at it — and share the supplies!
And a group of Japanese students figured out a way to do exactly that.
One of the most inspiring facets of the human spirit is the will to survive and innovate in times of crisis.
Look no further than a group of Japanese students who refused to let their graduation ceremony be canceled due to coronavirus quarantine.
Don’t worry. They’re still practicing safe social distancing.
It’s all happening online.
One tightly knit group of primary school graduates and friends in Japan generated this terrific graduation workaround. If they couldn’t have a ceremony at college, then why not have one digitally in a location where they all meet regularly … in Minecraft!
Keep in mind: Not a single instructor or adult supervising the students suggested the plan. …
She was fearless, maddening and — in the ultimate feminist act — uncontrollable.
Elizabeth Wurtzel was always a woman destined for punishment.
The second quote in this story’s headline is from a female-penned think-piece in response to Wurtzel’s unflinching (and incredibly generous to anyone who struggles with mental health) assessment of her “one-night stand of a life” in 2013.
The first is from a male writer with whom she had romantically tangled whose savagery went far beyond a subtweet—but then again Twitter wasn’t really a thing in 1998 — and so took his literary flamethrower to burn down the entire goddamned village of her voice, her existence and her trauma.
You may even know the guy who wrote the piece. He’s a bit of a renegade bad boy in lad-lit himself. Dude by the name of David Foster Wallace. Of course, he did not put her name in his manifesto. But everyone knew. …
I learned the hard way: There are better morning routines than Googling people you envy and hating yourself as a result
I. On Jealousy
“So full of artless jealousy is guilt,
It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.”
―William Shakespeare, Hamlet
“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”
― Eleanor Roosevelt, This is My Story
There’s a story I like to tell about the moment my life hit a major creative crossroads in 2004.
At the time, I was 28 years old, stuck in an unhappy marriage, unfulfilled in a PR job at my alma mater, ashamed of the burgeoning career I threw away after fancy stints at the Washington Post and the Village Voice, consumed with trying to promote my husband’s band — which he never wanted me to do in the first place, so that worked out really well — and perhaps most pathetic of all, obsessed with Googling peers who were my age but far more successful. …
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