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If you've followed a trail of curiosity from the Sunday Styles section of the NY Times, to Stephanie Klein's web site (congratulations, stephanie), to, I suppose right now you feel like you've taken the wrong exit off the highway. Before you start clicking around frantically, looking for a way to connect to tell-all tales of looking for love over the rim of a Cosmopolitan glass, you should know you've come to the wrong place. I rarely, if ever, use this web site as a vehicle to talk about trimming my vagina. (I personally don't think a web site is the proper medium for discussing such things; that's what CB Radio was invented for.)

Additionally, I never eat above 14th Street, unless I was being fed as a hostage. I would sooner drink a gallon of glandular secretions (pick a gland) than spend $12 on a Caramel Fudge-tini Cocktail at a bar where the dress code for guys is Banana Republic stretch slacks, a wedding ring tan line, and diagonally-stripped button-down shirts. ("Hey, I don't work on the weekends, baby, so why should my stripes have to? Let 'em relax, just like me. And, yes, I do know I'm wearing my sunglasses indoors, but thanks.") I did attend fat camp, but only as a pre-emptive strike. And the curl in my hair? Well, it's nothing close to Botticelli's Venus; it's more Old Testament's Deuteronomy.

After all this, if you're still patiently dealing with your disappointment and you're curious about what you might find as you sniff around, here's a quick primer of content I'd consider "typical":

Marco Polo

The United States, According to My Racist Aunt

A Halloween Too Far

Does That Make Me Gay? Special 'CATS' Edition

How to Avoid the Exhausting Planning and Preparation That Goes Into Making a Second Date

How to Look Before You Leap

Title Card, Part I

How to Have a William Carlos Williams Moment

How to Wake Your Neighbors

The Onion AV Club: 'Say Something Funny'

How to Determine Whether the Dogs are Barking for You, and Only You

[This entry was the HTML equivalent of that episode of The Jeffersons where George and Weezie spend the entire half-hour tied to a chair while their apartment is being robbed, and use that time together to reminisce over a series of flashbacks i.e. clips from previous episodes of The Jeffersons.]

How to Ruin a Joke

WE FIRST MET ON 07.24.2005

it's just a line; don't worry too much
read the archives, please. does that make me gay? meet the author, more or less. this is the email link you were perhaps looking for