These days, many women walk into public bathrooms with bowels full of digested sandwiches (ew) and salads (nice) with the end goal of taking a satisfying shit.
Are you a man who is constantly frustrated, but unsure where to channel that pent up energy? Do you feel like a force beyond your control is leading you astray, yet you refuse to ask for directions? Is your personal compass always pointing North, even when you’re facing South? If you answered yes to any of these…
Dear Abby (a.k.a. Jeanne Phillips) is either really bored, really stupid, or really being ghost-written by A.I. software.
Laura Herrick, a contributor to the Kansas City Star’s “Midwest Voices” section, has some thoughts on how women can prevent rape. So many, many thoughts. At the risk of ruining the surprise: Every single one of them is bad.
Last year, I wrote a memoir about my long, tortured love affair with alcohol and my decision to quit at 35. The book was called Blackout. Since then, I’ve received mountains of correspondence from people who have their own complicated issues with alcohol, and each Tuesday, for the next four weeks, I’ll be answering…
“What is the secret to winning the eternal favor of the internet?” the blogger asks, craning her body toward the wizened oracle, intent on not missing a word.
Last week, I tried to imagine what sort of advice Goop, health bible for Gwyneth stans, might promote in its first-ever sex issue. It finally came out on Monday, and I think that I was impressively close.
During a town hall in Watertown, New York, presidential candidate John Kasich reminded voters that he is both still campaigning and still an asshole.
Dear Abby, the widely syndicated advice column written by Jeanne Phillips (daughter of original Abby, Pauline Phillips) has had a long, uneasy relationship with what rape actually is. Her most recent column is a confusing cocktail of her old-fashioned bad views mixed with what we can assume was some kind of editorial…
Even though we are all vain creatures who want to look good, it’s impossible as a woman to not sometimes suspect there’s full-scale effort to make you despise not just your entire being, but also every conceivable angle from which it may be viewed. Anti-aging advice is the worst culprit: It means well, but comes off…
This is Etiquette Monster, Jezebel’s advice column where senior writer Madeleine Davies gets worked up and starts screaming about manners. Have a question about etiquette? Email Madeleine at your own risk.
The Honorable Judge Judith Sheindlin stepped down from her bench to appear on Ellen yesterday and share some insights on what often brings women into her daytime TV courtroom.
Queen of 90s alt rock, Alanis Morissette, will be offering up good advice that you just should take in a new column at Guardian Weekend magazine. The 41-year-old singer will be responding to the romantic woes and moral quandaries of readers beginning next week.
Jeb Bush, that sweet, sad Guaca-Bowle hawker, is honestly just relieved you’re asking for his opinion about anything.
Having kids is a lot of things—a joy, a challenge, a pain, a miracle, a tragedy. But one thing it isn’t? A lifelong guarantee of a deep friendship that warrants regular check-ins. Even when you pay for stuff. Sorry.
If you’re the sort of heterosexual woman who can’t help comparing your body to the bodies of other women, look to men for the answer. Well, not to them—at them.
If a one-night stand is a hookup that implies you’ll be sleeping over and skulking off first thing in the AM, then the “half-night stand” is apparently a hookup where you bail well before that. Specifically: because the sex was bad.
Welcome to cold and flu season, in which our bodies are attacked by germs and our emotions by guilt-mongering bosses and coworkers.