Category: Confidence

“I Want More Adventure & Whimsy In My Life”—And the Worst Advice I Ever Read On Getting It

There’s terrible advice, and then there’s the type of advice that makes you want to fake your death and ride bareback on a donkey through Cleveland. Until today, I thought that the Cosmo advice to “apply a little Ben Gay to his privates for an unexpected treat” was that kind of advice. (Do not try that at home, or in any grocery store parking lots, ever.) Turns out, though, there is at least ONE ARTICLE doling out even more questionable

I Was On BBC Radio London—ARE YOU DYING???

Yoooooo! Ho ho hooooooo! Maybe a little too soon for the Santa greetings, but whatever, IT’S THANKSGIVING HERE IN THE U.S., which means that I’ve officially pulled out my clear bin full of balls and plan on hanging at least one fake garland before the day is out. (Then again, I live across the street from the world’s cutest Parisian floral designer, so I should probably go over there with a beret on and a cigarette and pretend to be

Start a Boring Business—Not an Innovative One. (Also Filed Under: Business Advice I Never Thought I’d Give.)

I once met a guy whose job is to gut dead poodles and freeze dry their corpses—and I didn’t even get this luminary’s phone number. I know, the recklessness in it all! If I may offer some advice, anytime you meet someone with a business card that says, “We won’t turn your poodle into a puddle,” you follow up. At the very least, you’ll (finally) have a tip to submit to Unsolved Mysteries one day. Anyway, our poodle pal here

It Doesn’t Matter Where You Start. But Waiting to Start Will Kill You.

You know who’s going to hate me after they read this? (Besides the evangelicals, who always hate me.) THE PLANNERS. Godddd, did I used to be jealous of The Planners! These cruise directors were over there color-coordinating their kumquats and placing wax paper in between their leftover slices of pepperoni pizza and recording their daily emotions on sticky notes—while meanwhile, I’m all, “Hey, has anyone seen my coat? WHERE IS MY COAT? DID I LEAVE MY COAT IN LONDON? On

What’s Your Little Ball? (Not to Be Confused With: “Your Little Balls.”)

I’LL SHOW YOU! …is definitely not what I was thinking when I sliced left with the knife. Alas, I applied as much pressure as I could: I wanted a nice, clean line. No mess. No more worrying about this particular…problem. I was determined to put an end to it now. But, Christ with a fungal groin infection, wallpaper is harder to cut than a human cadaver. I KNOW THAT’S WHERE YOU THOUGHT I WAS GOING WITH THIS. But I’ve personally