Why? Why do I do this to myself? Every year I gnash my teeth at all the Oscars hype, and every year I vow to rent a movie instead of watching the Fashion Disaster Ego …

I cultivated many a guilty pleasure as a kid – spending my entire allowance on Skor bars; reading the naughty parts of The Thorn Birds; procuring a bottle of neon pink nailpolish, stealing through the …

I never buy People. I never even leaf through it at the doctor’s office; I’d rather read a four-month-old issue of Parenting. Even an unapologetic pop-cultivore like me has to draw the line somewhere, and …

I spent New Year’s Day recuperating with a few of my favorite things: Bloody Marys, good friends, gossip, delicious pasta, and mind-numbingly bad film. The Biscuit and I, having downed enough room-temperature champagne and stayed …

I used to work at a store in the Short Hills Mall called Cheers! (Not my exclamation point, just for the record.) Similar to a Hallmark store, but independently owned, Cheers! sold cards, wrapping paper, …

This past weekend, the Biscuit and his friend Mr. Osbourne and I visited the Museum of Bad Art (also known as the MoBA) in Dedham, Massachusetts. The trip out to Dedham turned into a minor …

Here in New York City, we have a so-called humor publication called The Rotten Apple. TRA models itself on (read: rips off without much success) magazines like The Onion and the Lampoon, but between the …

Hobey, Warrior Feline
The occupants of the ninth floor lead tranquil lives, until an unmistakable jingling sound heralds the approach of pure evil, and the long shadow of terror falls over their happy hallway. Fuzzy Mousie …

I just don’t get some stuff. I don’t mean the complicated mysteries of the human body or the nature of the deity or anything lofty like that. I mean little everyday things. I’ve had a …

I don’t eat meat very often, because I can’t really afford it. Also, I don’t cook very well, and if I spend money on a nice piece of beef, I don’t want to ruin it …