Category Archives: Life/Times

Art is like life: you never know which direction it will hit you from next

You have to have a plan, but happiness depends on how well you roll with the punches. The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men / Gang aft agley – Robert Burns No plan, however well conceived, survives contact with the enemy. – Military Adage Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the mouth. – Mike Tyson

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Should your son join a fraternity? Read this. Right now.

Dear Parents: if your son goes to college, joins a fraternity and screws up, you could lose your home. Do I have your attention yet? How many times in my adult life have I heard this? YOU were in a fraternity? Yes I was. Theta Chi, Gamma Omicron chapter, Wake Forest University. I know, I don’t fit the stereotype. Neither

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Dear women of Match.com and OK Cupid: WTF is wrong with you?

Women – and men – in online dating communities are acting like goddamned sociopaths. This needs to stop. Okay, not all of you. But some of you. Men, too – I’m guessing this isn’t just women. See if you recognize yourselves below. On multiple occasions I’ve been talking to women I met through OK Cupid. Things going great, we really

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Getting a PhD was the best decision I ever made. And the worst.

American businesses are anti-intellectual. American universities are anti-relevance. The gods help the overeducated schmuck stuck in the middle. Hi. I’m Sam, and I’m a PhD. Hi Sam! For those of you who don’t know me, I have a doctorate. Communication, University of Colorado, 1999. Some days it’s the thing I have done in life that I’m most proud of. Other

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Death, Iowa and being 30 minutes late to an orgy with Marcia Brady and Laurie Partridge: What’s the best time zone in America?

The United States spans six time zones. I have now lived in four of them (Eastern, Central, Mountain and Pacific), visited a fifth (Hawaiian-Aleutian) and flown over the sixth (Alaskan), so I feel comfortable addressing the question of which one is best with some authority. Eastern Time Zone I begin with a certain bias. Like most kids, I hated going

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The Continuing Adventures of Lonelyman, #27: The Case of the Invisible Date

Lonelyman walks into Ernie’s a pizza and Italian in Northwest Denver. The hostess, a pleasant enough looking blonde woman, greets him and asks “how many?” Lonelyman has always dreamed of responding to this sort of query with some wiseassery, like motioning to either side and saying “just the six of us” or “table for 8 – I like to move

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