Catch Jay Leno at 10 pm…every weeknight.

Gmail: now with to-do lists!

Homegirl lights her cheating husband’s junk on fire.

Clay Aiken kissed a boy, and he liked it.

Brrrr, it’s cold out there! Stay beautiful in the winter with these tips.

Want equal rights? Call in “gay” to work tomorrow.

Bah humbug about Hanukkah? We feel you.

Take criticism gracefully.

Everyone loves LiLo’s leggings.

Whoops! An NFL wardrobe malfunction.

You’ve probably heard of a “happy ending” massage, and if you haven’t, what the hell kind of PG-rated world are you living in? As weird and dirty as I think they are (how many people have been jacked off in that room. Seriously?), if dudes (and yes, some women) want to have a stranger who probably hates their job help them orgasm, then whatever. Go for it.

But allowing your husband to get one? Encouraging and then laughing with him about it afterwards? Telling him how cute it was that he had a hard time finding someone to finally do it?

WTF.

Now, I’m not one of those rabid girlfriends who beats their boyfriend for accidentally checking out the boobs of another woman — hell, I’m not even one of those girls who won’t let her dude go to a strip club — but I really don’t think I’d spend my time convincing my husband to let some other chick give him a handjob for $55 with tip.

My reasoning is less about the possibility of him getting ideas and then cheating (I believe if a guy is gonna cheat he’s gonna cheat, no matter what you say or do), and more about the weirdness of encouraging a husband to seek outside sexual gratification. I mean, if I’m his wife, shouldn’t I be the one providing all the sex acts? Is that what you kind of promise when you get married — that you’re the one who will be giving all the handjobs from now on?

What do you think? If you were married, would you encourage your guy to get a “happy ending”?

Spitzer’s Client #9 shenanigans brought out a lot of dialogue about fidelity across news shows and the Internet alike. We polled our readers last week asking if the person who’s been cheated on is to blame and gave a choice of three answers – yes, no and maybe. Can we determine who had the right answer?

Possibly.

Dr. Laura Schlessinger has never been one to shrink from controversy and she leaped headlong into one on Monday when she appeared on the Today Show and said that if a husband cheats, his wife may share some of the blame.

“When the wife does not focus in on the needs and the feelings, sexually, personally, to make him feel like a man, to make him feel like a success, to make him feel like her hero, he’s very susceptible to the charm of some other woman making him feel what he needs,” the popular psychologist and radio personality said.

Now, I hate Dr. Laura with the fire of a thousand suns, so anything that comes out of her mouth leaves me ready to come out fighting against her or makes me turn the ignore button on in my head, but after initially dismissing her as being wrong yet again, I thought about what she’d said.

I shudder to type this, but: she’s on to something. Read More »

Are you one of those girls with a problem with strip/burlesque clubs? If the answer is YES, please proceed to paragraph number 1 and then read 2. If the answer is NO, please proceed to paragraph number 2.

1. Well, alright. I get it. You have respect for a woman’s body and sexuality, right? Watching men drool over a woman’s body with whom they have no personal, let alone emotional, connection with whatsoever is sickening, right?

Something about the placing of a dollar bill in a thong makes you want to barf. And the idea of your boyfriend/husband/love interest being the guy with the dollar bill is just thoroughly intolerable, right? After all, if you two are involved, he should only think about and see your body sexually, right? He should not be involved with the chauvinist society of strip club going men. That would make him much more like a slime ball than the perfect guy you THINK you’re dating.

But THINK is the key word here, ladies. I beg of you to place yourself in the mindset of the girls who have proceeded directly to paragraph 2. Suspend your opinions at least momentarily if you can. Read More »

A few years ago, while working as a ski instructor up north at some unnamed resort, I made friends with an awesome guy.

A youth instructor like myself, we spent our days holding up languid 3-year-olds on the bunny slope and chasing screaming kindergarteners down larger hills, hoping against hope no one slammed into a tree in the process.

Being in a high stress (and FREEZING) situation supplied us with an instant bond, and we soon found ourselves skiing together during our free time and discussing our lives on chairlifts.

During out time together, it began to dawn on me that he was everything I had ever looked for in a guy: smart, funny, good with kids, active, gentle, and giving. He liked his parents, wrote music on his off time, and always waited for me whenever I fell into a giant snowdrift.

Basically, he was awesome. The only issue? I wasn’t attracted to him in the slightest.

He wasn’t ugly. It didn’t hurt to look him in the face or anything; he just wasn’t my type. Nothing about him made me jittery or full of butterflies, my heart never jumped when he walked into a room, and those long chairlift rides were never awkward with anticipation.

I didn’t fantasize once about kissing him. Read More »

Ryan Gosling, my future husband, walked away from a major film project this week, citing simply “creative differences”. The Peter Jackson helmed “ The Lovely Bones” will begin shooting today with Mark Wahlberg replacing Gosling.

“Lovely Bones” is based off of the popular book of the same name by Alice Sebold, centering on a murdered 14-year-old girl watching the way her death has affected everyone close to her. Gosling was slated to play her father, and decided to gain some weight to help him seem age appropriate.

According to the Los Angeles Times, when Gosling walked onset, bearded and heavier than usual, Peter Jackson became slightly bent out of shape. The director was “still expecting some movie star allure” from Gosling, “not paunch and a beard”.

First of all, if it’s Ryan Gosling, it doesn’t matter if he’s got antennas and three arms—he’ll still give an amazing performance and be alluring while doing it. Besides, when did a beard and a little paunch hurt anyone? Has anyone seen Vince Vaughn lately? How about Benicio Del Toro? Tom Hanks? Read More »

At the gym this morning I caught a segment on some talk show about cheating. Basically, the show was about agencies that helped people find out if their mate was cheating on them, and if such spy agencies were even ethical.

One of the panelists on the show was “relationship expert” and author Steve Santagati, a “former model and bad boy” who penned The Manual: A True Bad Boy Explains How Men Think, Date, and Mate–and What Women Can Do to Come Out on Top.

I’ve caught Santagati’s TV appearances before, and each time I see his smug face on camera I can’t help but throw up a little and shake my head at all the women who actually buy anything written by such an obvious egoist.

My distaste aside, Santagati never actually said anything revolting during those appearances, so I had nothing to confirm my gut reaction—until this morning. Read More »

Days as a Freshman: 61

Mood: Heavy

“So…” Sasha pulled a chair from an empty table over to the one I was sitting at, holding a paper cup of tea and chewing on a plastic stirring straw. I watched him sit, look down into his cup, chew on the straw, and blink. What was he waiting for?

“Should’ve put honey in this. Green tea sucks without honey.” He looked up and grinned, the straw bending with his smiling lips, his messy brown hair falling into his eyes.

I wanted to freeze everything; take a picture of him just how he was right now with my eyes and keep it in the back of my head. I wanted to find a way to memorize the little dimple on his left cheek. I wanted to come up with an exact recipe for the smell he carried with him; a mixture of fresh deodorant and warm fuzzy dryer sheets. I needed to never forget the way a simple plastic straw could make someone irresistible.

The moment of realization that you’re sitting across from someone who could actually be everything you’ve ever dreamed about is strange. It’s not a big feeling, not a sharp feeling either. It’s mostly just a warm sensation, like someone’s poured bubbly, fizzy water into your limbs and into your chest.

“People make fun of me for drinking tea.” Taking the straw from his mouth, Sasha stirred the liquid in his cup absently, looking up at me and then back down at his hands, smiling in a quieter way. “It’s not cool or something. But I like it.”

And I like you, I thought, holding my own cup between my hands and breathing as carefully as I could. It seemed like a strong exhale could ruin the moment, blowing away the comfortable yet electric energy between us. Read More »