The real, PG-13ish version.
"No one ever connects being a too-young fashion model with trauma, and even if they do, the sympathy is slight."
I would be fine with politicians' redemption if sex workers were allowed the same dignity of returning to normalcy.
Me, my boyfriend, and 30 different ways of smooching.
Along with Karen Finley, the nineties performance artist, who interpreted them into a painting.
Eggs blended with orange juice, raw yeast in everything.
I discussed Dance Academy with my therapist.
I moved across the country for his movie. Then I lost him to it.
Shopping warfare in the land of leggings and baby strollers.
A run-in with Brooklyn’s ultra-Orthodox clothing cops.
Learning how to live, work, and date after a shocking jet-ski accident.
A boy opened fire at my school dance, but my Democratic parents remained pro-gun.
Where do our fingers rank among the world's penises?
You know the slit in the crotch of Spanx? I tried to have sex through it.
"Squint your eyes and bore your soul."