Sunday's midseason 4 finale gave us the tide-turning battle we were expecting at the end of season 3, but this time each side had even more to lose.
"Did she just fall off a treadmill?" I blinked once, and then I let out a sigh of embarrassment and confirmation that just as I was able to see the crowd of people around me, they could also see me. Here are eight other reasons why I'll probably never meet a guy at the gym.
OK, so maybe you won't be telling your dates to "say your name" in the middle of a desert under the threat of an ambush. But you may just have more in common with man who knocks than you think.
I'm selling dope, straight off the iPhone. Are you saying that you're actually selling drugs using your iPhone? We ran it by Marketing and they love your energy, but insist the copy is way off brand.
These days jokes about my sexuality hardly bother me, but the ownership that many women feel they have over it most certainly does. Let's dish! (I'm thinking my new catchphrase will really help reinforce my masculinity.)
As a ferociously reluctant Yeshiva boy in the 1970s, I thought Hanukkah was without a doubt the most joyous time of the year.
Just like Christmas displays have crept into stores, you're probably feeling stress creeping in to your life. But don't worry, I'm here to help. I discovered the secret to no-stress holidays -- hating myself!
We know the Republicans would like to forget how St. Eisenhower's prosperity was due in part to high corporate tax rates and massive spending on infrastructure. So what was it?
"I was feeling bad about Chelsea. It was weighing on me. I stayed on my meds. Then I traveled a little bit and I wanted to drink. I lowered my Lexapro, because it made me sick after two or three beers, and I was feeling better. That's where the mistakes happen. I wasn't vein monitored by a psychiatrist. I wasn't in therapy."
The source of my ire began on a recent Friday when I was charged with renting a movie suitable for 11-year-old viewing. Translation? Something void of gratuitous sex, nonstop profanity or Jason Statham. Monsters University fit the bill.
Whoa, dude, thank you for making these awesome hashtag brownies. Sure, they're a little gnarly and imperfectly shaped, but I've had, like, eight of them and I am telling you, my man, they have greatly impacted my ability to absolutely kill it on Twitter.
When your child wonders why the Santa at the mall isn't the same as the one at Walmart, explain human cloning.
A productive morning is finding two matching black dress socks for work. I couldn't bear putting any more pressure on my dress code.