Our readers share their greatest public sex triumphs and tragedies. We’ll leave it up to you to decide which category the dead moose falls into.
Our readers share their greatest public sex triumphs and tragedies. We’ll leave it up to you to decide which category the dead moose falls into.
New York reveals a cornucopia of free spirits, three beer queers, and investment bankers in this week’s Talking With Strangers.
Our resident relationship guru advises a reader on what to do about their frequent knock-down, drag-out, possibly orange-sherbet-related fights with their boyfriend in this week’s Miss Information.
This week, our relationship expert Miss Information imparts some sage wisdom to a gal who wants to know if she should drop her beau due to his lackluster bank account.
Should money factor into your relationship? Sound off on Nerve!
“The lake was pretty murky and disgusting and no one wanted to get naked, but I was like, ‘I’m going to do it…’” Nerve asks the adventurous population of Madison, Wisconsin some deeply personal questions in this week’s Talking to Strangers.
Click the Amazing Dancing Peggy to check out why Mad Men is ruining our faith in love:
A lot of people are saying that the fifth season of Mad Men (which just ended last night) has been its bleakest yet. For a show where every character constantly seems on the verge of collapsing into their own Sylvia Plath poem, that’s impressive. And while it’s all been dramatically satisfying — give or take a Fat Betty or two — it’s also been emotionally exhausting. After five years of watching our heroes try to fill the vast emptiness in their lives through flings with secretaries, strangers at movie theaters, and former Gilmore Girls, I’m ready to call it: Mad Men has officially made me terrified of ever falling in love again.
A young editor attempts to discern what’s different about her hook-up buddy in this week’s Dateline. Click those Civil War whiskers to check out the story!
9:41 - Something about him looks different though, and I can’t put my finger on it.
9:41:02 - He gives me a kiss hello. I can now see what it is. A mustache.
9:41:10 - He takes my hand and walks me inside, as though everything’s normal and he doesn’t have a mustache.
9:05 - Not-date shows up five minutes late and kisses me on both cheeks. French cultural tendencies make differentiating between a date and a not-date infinitely more confusing. Not-date asks me what I want to do. I say “eat.” I mean “bone.” He’s the teaching assistant on my study-abroad program. Boning would be far sexier and more illicit than eating. He asks where. I point to the nearest restaurant.
Our most morbid dating poll yet: what do you want to do before you die? Momento mori. Check it out.
The next edition in our Dateline series: Here’s an observation: when someone’s from Utah, it’s way harder to tell if they’re being ironic. Involves rock climbing and sexual puritanism. Funny.
