When you are lost in the jungle your preference would be to not be lost, but short of that you’d settle for a jungle pharmacy to pick up a salve for that itching in your nether region.


There is legend of a human who once enjoyed puberty. This is not that legend.

 (A version of this story was originally published by Picador in the anthology, The Book of Men, the proceeds of which benefit Narrative4, a non-profit organization that uses story-exchanges to cultivate empathy and break barriers. )


In this country, we are drowning in false choices and sclerotic deliciousness. This week’s story mines our demise for several minutes of uproarious hijinks.


Duke Ellington should be on the dollar bill by now. That's not what this story is about, however. It's about making the most of a limited dating pool and life’s cruel bio-mechanical disconnections.


Our lives are only moments shuffled inside our heads while we die. This episode definitely proves whatever that last sentence means, probably.


Some children are brats and their parents are brats too. Brat was also the name of a short lived automobile, but that is a fact entirely unrelated to this story.


Because we are stuck in a linear understanding of our experience, we insist, in the moment, that Betamax is the future of home video.


In the peak of mosquito season we are often susceptible to unorthodox, and frankly risky, means of itch reduction. Be careful out there, listeners!


What if our snack food diets merged with our erratic weather systems all while the corporatocracy finally admitted they didn’t give a damn about the twins’ medical bills?


Any story set at the DMV is going to involve an uncomfortable and frustrating waiting period. You might want to bring along something to read for this one, or a gripping podcast.