by Lindsey Rozmes I love New York. I’ve been drawn to its frenetic energy and lively buzz since I was a kid. I couldn’t wait to grow up and dive into the action. For the past decade, man, was I in the action. I kept stride with the revved up pace, bobbing and weaving through the streets, running from
Lola Rephann Remember about ten years ago when the Sh*t B!tch Bear came out? It was a cute teddy bear in a t-shirt, but the shirt said “Sh*t B!tch, you fine.” It was the first sign that people were tired of the usual Valentine’s Day tropes. For people who knew they had to get their special person something but didn’t
by Lola Rephann Our culture has some serious baggage around the word “massage,” and when you stop to examine why, is it any wonder? It’s a standard canard in sit-coms, a bad joke implying intimate possibilities when someone creepy tries to pick up cute guy/girl by promising a “massage” to help them relieve stress from all that work or studying.