Rebekah Kuschmider

Breaking! Breaking! Ben & Jerry’s is introducing a line of non-dairy frozen desserts!

The next few months are going to feel like drinking from a firehose of bad political news. Just today, my email is pinging away with alerts about all the executive orders that Trump seems to have signed expressly to make me, Rebekah Kuschmider, lose my mind. I keep feeling jolts of adrenaline, and I reach for my phone to email or call or Tweet or SOMETHING to release my endless rage.

I’ve never read the Quran or attended a Mosque, but I’m pretty certain that if anyone had the chance to speak directly with the god Allah or the Prophet Muhammad, they would not be saying “Bitches be crazy, yo. Keep them bitches down.”

It’s October, and everything is about to go pink for Breast Cancer Awareness Month. That means we all get our annual reminder to be aware of our own breast tissue and all the ways we can take care of it.

Last night, there was a minor disturbance in the political force when Kathleen Kennedy Townsend, former Lieutenant Gove

The Russian meddling, the Kremlin favoring his father, the offer to provide information with material value to the Trump campaign. Did Donald Trump Jr. know it was illegal? I dunno. But he went ahead and did it all anyway.

Attendees of the Sanders event stood along the street when Clinton’s motorcade arrived and threw 1,000 $1 bills at her vehicle. Twitter was alight with notices about “making it rain” on Hillary’s car. I have questions.

This week saw a new high-water mark of professional-level weird in the Senate Republicans’ attempts to repeal Obamacare and replace it was a set of tax cuts, paid for by kicking 14 million people off Medicaid.

So — who is everyone thinking about when they masturbate? The sex toy company We-Vibe wanted to find out, so they asked 1,000 people who their favorite celeb fantasies were.

The body and face we have today is such a tenuous thing. The longer I live, the more strongly aware I am that there are no promises of health or wholeness. Beauty is fleeting, and does it matter anyway if your body suddenly ceases to work the way it "should"? Would I regret the days I spent peering at imperfections if suddenly my sight were gone?