Brianne Hogan

For a long time, romantic love was an esoteric thing to me that I assumed would occur eventually, like taxes and having your clothes dry-cleaned.

Three of my grandparents died within seven months of each other. And I didn't even have a driver's license.

accidental movie star. founder of crankytown. wannabe villain.

advice guru. lube lover. workaholic.

Dry humping my pillow and imagining it was David Duchovny seemed a much hotter alternative than doing the real thing.

Last week was my imaginary ex-boyfriend's birthday. January 2, to be exact. I only know this because Facebook told me so. I had forgotten about him.

From fierce bunnies to books, Sonja rocks the art world.

The cards showed me the Tower and the Ten of Swords, which is basically bleak shit worthy of jumping off a tall building.

Come, fervent readers of smart, witty blogs.

brave. bawdy. decidedly not depressed.