Jenni Berrett

I’m just going to come right out and say it: RuPaul’s Drag Race is the best show on television.

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.”

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.

“Girls don’t masturbate, right? I don’t masturbate. Do you masturbate? Can girls masturbate? I don’t think they can — I’m pretty sure my mom doesn’t.”

"Disease takes the body over, and, in the cases of the diseases we vaccinate for, moves swiftly on to other bodies. It does not ask permission to enter. "

If you find yourself feeling hurt, mad, sad, etc. about the election this year, go ahead and feel it. Cry in front of your dad. Eat some queso. When it’s all said and done, feel how you need to feel. The only way to foster a healthy relationship between emotion and politics is to acknowledge that there is one in the first place, and that it probably needs fixing.

[CN: vomit] Having been an unfeeling, sluggish husk of a person with the nap-taking skills of an elderly sloth for the past five months or so, I have reemerged too tender for this world.

The premise is pretty simple: We each give you one thing to watch, one thing to listen to, and one thing to read over the weekend.

It was the night before my father’s funeral that I finally asked the tarot for help. I was incapable of imagining a future where I delivered his eulogy.

We have returned from our long (jk, two week) hiatus to deliver you the Internet you live and breathe for!