Βλέπουν τραγοπόδαρους στο κεφάλι της πεθεράς, δε βάζουν το παιδί στη θάλασσα αν είναι αβάπτιστο και θεωρούν ότι τα τσιπάκια είναι του διαβόλου. Η Χρυσή Μούτζα μαζεύει τα καλύτερα και τα σχολιάζει...
I like to think of myself as an equal-opportunity offender, that all religions are just different sides of the same million-or-so-headed coin to me. The specifics of what ancient person has what magic power according to whatever secret text is simply a...
Bob Odenkirk breaks down the word "hopelessness" in this depressing-ass poem that should be handed out to college students on class registration day. Because with a degree in something like embroidery, you'll be spending the rest of your life wallowing...
Tupac at Coachella was just the beginning! This summer, the greats of hip-hop and history come to liz-ife! Onstage, the OGs of all-time.
The ganef has the chutzpah to belt me in the face. He lays me back in my stunned state and tries to shove the pool net up my tukhus. I tighten my hole like it’s holding onto a hundred-dollar bill.
William was a puker. His expulsions—the color, consistency, and volume of a baby's—occurred after every sentence he spoke.
Bill Odenkirk wrote a poem to acknowledge the tragic demise of Thomas Kinkade.
Iraqis, after living for decades under an oppressive totalitarian regime in which one offhand remark could ensure a quick trip to the gallows, have mastered the art of the whispered political riff.
Flannery O'Connor's short stories are really funny, but no one ever talks about that. It might be because the jokes aren't haw-haw jokes, or it might be because the humor is so dark that a lot of people don't have the taste for it.