The Snuggie is an interesting phenomenon, not because of its similarity to the standard stable blanket, nor its druid-inspired aesthetic.  A huge, fleece blanket with sleeves and a hood just makes sense. No, it is interesting because of the fan culture of the product and its decimation of its competitor

  This might be old news to some of you but the chance to win money never gets old:   Heeding the anguished calls and pee-dances of San Francisco homeowners and their construction crews alike, Oakland’s Clorox Corporation has decided to deploy its chlorinated missionaries across the bay and onto

  Aside from Rorschach’s scenes in prison and Silk Spectre II’s time in her yellow and black spandex (when she was out of her superhero suit in the nude, I got distracted by Dan’s big apple ass and the event horizon background), Watchmen was unwatchable.  A shame, considering its length.

I was walking near Union Square the other night, on the way to a friend’s birthday party, when I passed by Macy’s display window.  I noticed that it was once again the time of year for the store’s Flower Show.  While this year’s theme is “A Bohemian Garden”, after looking at

Hump Day sounds disgusting, always has.  “Bumping uglies” sounds gross too.  I know people who hate the word “groin”.  “Crotch” is crisp and tight to me, but friends find it equally unappetizing.  One of Stuart’s friends has a website called The Fart Party.  That leaves a very unpleasant taste in

4-day all-access badges have just become available to purchase for the Northside Festival in Williamsburg, a new music festival project by The L Magazine.  $45 is like, INSANELY cheap for four whole days of bands that include:  Vivian Girls, Bishop Allen, The Dodos, Bill Callahan, The Van Pelt, Brightblack Morning Light, O’Death, Asobi

Not long ago Monica the Intern and I were interviewed for a new part of The Onion’s website called Debaser.  The idea behind it is that they let you promote something of yours in exchange for telling an embarrassing story.  So I got to tell them all about the Fuck the Recession Party,

There a thousands of iconic photos of Coney Island from its epic reign through its Post-War deterioration into a dere-lict “my balls” trashy-ass scene, so I applied rigorous standards and ended up with this one. Coincidentally, there are breasts. I hope the tasteful,  impactful photo is titillating enough (excuse the