So you’ve found the love of your life. The two of you somehow tolerate one another enough that you’ve decided to share a home. Now you’ve got a problem: How do you convince them to let you get away with all those eight-hour binges on The Witcher 3?
There I was, happily chugging up I-40 on a clear Arkansas night when—cough cough sputter clunk—my car decided to die. Was I filled with shame? Was I filled with terror? No. I was prepared.
There was an episode of Oprah that aired a long, long time ago that was about the survivors of terrible accidents. At least, I think that’s what it was about. It aired around the time of the Singapore Airlines flight 006 tragedy back in 2000, where a 747 aircraft didn’t manage to lift off before crashing into a cement…
In July I moved into my own apartment. In the grand scheme of life, this was a relatively big deal.
Look, the weather is the most boring topic in the world, especially when it’s some asshole on the East Coast griping about it, but it’s hot. I can’t ride my bike, I can’t give my dog a good walk, I can barely breathe. I can, though, drink coffee. I’ve found the solution.
One thing we know to be true about Taylor Swift is that she is frequently photographed with other people. The Instagram personality, who is also a musician, refers to the people in these photographs her “friends.” She has many of them! More friends than you and me, and everyone we know combined. She has friends who go…
You would think a single AC unit would be sufficient for cooling the sort of diminutive New York City one-bedroom for which I am currently overpaying. But, alas, despite racking up what is sure to be a reprehensibly reckless utilities bill, it’s still at least a billion degrees in my apartment this week, so we’re…
Welcome back to Ask a Lawyer, wherein I, a lawyer, respond to your questions. Got a vexing legal issue? Send it over, or drop it in the comments below.
Time for your weekly edition of the Deadspin Funbag. Got something on your mind? Email the Funbag. Today, we’re covering bad vegetables, yelling in public, farting, and more.
Via the Washington Post, I have learned of a study by the Journal of Hand Therapy showing that millennial men are a bunch of weak, pampered diaper babies with butter-soft hands and that your puny muscles are no match for my hardened, callused Gen-X gripping power. I am paraphrasing, here. The Journal of Hand Therapy…
My first week of work at Gawker Media was a dream: I got some blogs up, enjoyed office snacks while they were still new and fresh to me, enjoyed my coworkers while they were still new and fresh to me, attended one of their swanky book parties, and on the final day of that week, learned that the company that paid my…
One of the greatest things about becoming an adult is realizing that, despite what you’ve been led to believe, most things are bad. Parties, hangouts, “chill seshes”—each one worse than the last and far inferior to sitting on a couch in a cocoon of your own filth. You know that now. And thanks to this one, easy trick,…
In February of 2015, the Concourse published an article about redheads that has had Jezebel’s Ellie Shechet and Madeleine Davies steamed ever since. They’re using Gawker Media’s Senior Week to finally respond.
My smart colleague George Dvorsky over at Gizmodo published a defense of “radical life extension” this morning. This is a largely pseudo- or quasi-scientific pursuit favored by billionaire parasite Peter Thiel (among others), based upon the idea that, essentially, death is a pathology rather than a natural fact of…
There comes a time in your life when you realize that you are a fairly mediocre human being. You can try to rectify some aspects of the situation—exercise or whatever—but there is little you can actually do to outrun your own unremarkableness. (You can’t outrun it because you’re out of shape.)
Ask An Adequate Woman is a space where readers can ask the questions they can’t—or maybe just won’t!—pose to their friends about relationships, fashion, family dramas, dating, existential crises, weird sex stuff, and everything else. The Women of Deadspin (and some of our clever friends) are here to happily lend an…
You enter a bar. Maybe you’re there to have a drink or two with some old pals, or maybe it’s a co-worker’s birthday party. It’s a nice spot, a cozy place with a solid oak bar that sits under a row of self-defeatingly dim light bulbs. You take it all in and move towards the friendly bartender, because it’s time to do…
What does it mean when someone asks, “Do you party?”
Bolder minds envision a world free of strife, hunger, inequality. My utopia is a little more modest and attainable: a world where people pass gas freely and openly whenever they have to, unfettered by social mores.
