Things White Men Are Tired of Hearing
Look: I’m white. I’m a man. My home and backyard are filled with dangerous worker bees that produce honey for me. It’s not that unusual.
Look: I’m white. I’m a man. My home and backyard are filled with dangerous worker bees that produce honey for me. It’s not that unusual.
"Doors are a Construct!" One BRAVE CAT'S journey to embracing a fluid Indoor/Outdoor identity!
Don’t invite Glug if you are having his former mate Praki who dumped him for that Neanderthal with the wheel.
I should never have strayed from the routine. The second I opened that dessert cupboard I knew it was a mistake.
My ex-wife sleeps with one every night to fill a void in her life from 23 years of “wasted youth.” I’m not sure who I’m more jealous of.
I am a large gorilla. And gorillas are soft, exoskeleton-less, atomic-breath-lacking, nonaquatic, vegetarian mammals.
Yes, I tried replacing the batteries. A fresh set seemed to do nothing except make his tone even angrier.
I enjoy the bachelor lifestyle that comes with living on an island that was ransacked by humans in the 1800s.
It smells a little sweaty but it’s cheaper to rent and deal with mysterious odors than buy your own at full price.
I’d become what’s known as "The Cool Dad" among David’s friends, and I was worried that coming off as anti-cockfighting would harm that reputation.
Don't be fooled by the New York City postmark on this letter -- I'm a Wisconsin mink farmer, born and bred.
Your own teeth, pulsed a few times in the Cuisinart. / Tiny blue gravel from the fish tank you haven’t cleaned out since your guppy, Lucy, died.