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John KenneyThe New Yorker |
Why riding underneath the car is safer than riding inside the car, and other neato things to learn from the Secretary of Health and Human Services.

A little Proust, a little cancer, but in a light and sexy way. Isn’t melancholy the new quirky?

Bobby was a good guy. But sometimes he’d do weird shit like put his hand on my head, unprompted, which was annoying.

Paper straws are out at the Department of Justice. Also banned: Dijon mustard, flimsy paper napkins, and the word “Whiffenpoof.”

I vow to go without sex to prove that I am in support of what my wife is in support of, politically, and also in terms of not wanting to have sex...
