Jenni Berrett

This week includes mostly chihuahuas. You're welcome.

“You are not the only person in the world who has anxiety. You are not the only person in the world who has depression. You’re not the only person in the world who has thoughts of self-harm. There are people who want to help you. There are people who have spent their entire lives helping people like you and me and all of the people that you’re seeing in this video. And you’re not alone. You are okay.”

"I had always pictured myself spending afternoons studying there. I instead found myself curled up on one of those benches at five in the morning, promising the crises hotline operator that no, I did not want to kill myself. I just didn’t know who else to call."

More than any other unsolicited mental health advice I’ve received over the course of my life is the admonishment to “fake it till you make it.”

Culturally speaking, though, it’s pretty much set in stone. Even if I left the church entirely, there’s no getting out of my heritage. Cut me open; I’ll bleed funeral potatoes. I’m what you call a “legacy Mormon” — my ancestors migrated across the frontier and settled in Utah (then Mexico) after facing unspeakable persecution from countless communities in the United States. You probably know my ancestors best as the people with the wives.

Boy, do we have some great finds this week. Olympic farting and synth-soaked summer jams — what more could you want? If your answer was "a longform piece of investigative journalism detailing Nicki Minaj's appearance at a bar mitzvah," you've come to the right place.

My dad died. I only know my own grief, and even that is debatable. If you’re hoping to comfort someone who’s grieving, here are a couple of things to know.

Here we are, your fearless Internet explorers (pun totally intended), back with another melange of web flotsam for you to scavenge.

THE WEEKEND HAS ARRIVED. While we hope you'll spend most of it reading, watching, and listening to the genre-transcending masterpiece that is Lemonade, we've taken the liberty of providing you with additional resources for Internet fun-having over the weekend.

At some point intellect has to make room for something bigger, for something scarier than just about anything. In order to truly learn something, you have to be vulnerable. You have to walk in and set your broken parts on the table and say, “Here, fix it. Or at least be broken with me.”