How to Figure Out Who Gave You Chlamydia: A Detective’s Guide to Sexual Sleuthing Well, shit. The clinic just called with that special tone they reserve for “we need to discuss your results.” You know the one. The voice that makes your soul leave your body before they even finish the sentence. Congratulations, you’ve got…
Disclaimer: This is satire. If you actually do this, natural selection is coming for you and it’s bringing a calculator. Listen. Your roommate’s dealer’s accountant just blessed you with insider information. Not regular insider information—the kind that gets whispered through prison phones and written on bathroom stalls in dive bars. The kind that comes from…
Disclaimer: This is satire. For the love of all that’s holy, see a real dentist. That tooth hurting? The one that feels like a tiny construction crew decided to jackhammer directly into your soul at 3 AM? Yeah. That one. Listen, you could go to a dentist. Someone who spent eight years learning which hole…
Because Your Therapist Is Already Booked Solid Genital warts. Two words nobody wants in their search history. Yet here you are, probably on incognito mode, looking for literally any way to make this situation less soul-crushing. Good news: You’re not dying. Bad news: You’re about to develop an uncomfortably intimate relationship with your pharmacist Brad,…
You know what nobody talks about at the soup kitchen? Credit utilization ratios. Weird, right? You’d think between the expired bologna sandwiches and the guy screaming about lizard people, someone would bring up FICO scores. But no. Apparently everyone’s too focused on “surviving” and “not freezing to death” to worry about their TransUnion report. Lucky…
So you’ve got narcolepsy. The universe looked at you and said “You know what would be hilarious? If this person just… stopped. Randomly. Like a laptop from 2003 running Windows Vista.” And now you’re here, trying to exist in a world designed by and for people who think “pulling an all-nighter” is a flex instead…