I have no aspirations of being a parent.
I am, by nature, a stoic, sardonic person. I don’t outwardly exhibit a great deal of emotion (I’m laughing on the inside, true story) but I have always had a knack for presenting myself with a cutting wit, something I think comes from also being a naturally intelligent person.
Why do we still consider penetrative sexual intercourse to be a “home run,” or the ultimate goal of a burgeoning relationship? The end all, be all, alpha and omega, pinnacle? College Humor addressed this question, years ago, in a video on their website (and here) but I want to dig in a little deeper.
It’s a weird sensation when a celebrity dies. And worse when their death comes at their own hands. We mourn them in a way that is completely different to the way we mourn a friend or relative.