Spring is in the air, which mean lactic acid is in my quads: it’s running season again. I mostly spend my time in this column talking about entertainment, but a lot of my life consists of doing stupid physical things like flogging my body over 26.2 miles of pavement in the hot (…and sweaty, and painful) pursuit of a “free” bottle of Muscle Milk and a medallion stamped with “Finisher.” I’m not sure why I do this. Running that far doesn’t yield any more fitness benefit than running half that distance. It hurts a lot. It uses up a lot of my disposable time. It may be a mental disorder.... Read More

I’m having one of those days. You know. The ones where you wake up a week after making a really big life decision and you think, “Wait, what the fuck did I actually do?” Yep, one of those. In May, I made the decision to buy an Airstream as my place of residence. Technically, this is not a legal move. As you can imagine, the government doesn’t like it, which means the banks don’t like it. They can’t put you in a box when you live on the road. To be an American, you must associate yourself to an address, which on the larger scale, associates you to both a city and state so that you can... Read More