On birthdays and Sasquatch

These are my final hours of being 41. I am one year closer to death, or at least becoming a crazy dog lady. I know this because I’m suddenly getting mail from AARP and SeniorMeet.com. I contemplated taking the day off to drink alone all day and pass out, oblivious to the fact I’m entering …

My ratings guide to male strippers

I think if this writing blog doesn’t turn into a career-breaking writing gig, I might publish a guide to male strip clubs. Sort of like Zagat’s, or Rick Steves. I know I would buy it. As another birthday creeps up on me like a bad rash (not that I know about such things), my friend …