Walking out of my nice, safe apartment in my nice, safe garden-filled neighborhood at 9 am on a Sunday morning with my visiting mother, I ran into a man with his dick in his hands.

Thumbnail image attributed to Dan Eckert.

Hotline Bling bothers me though. It's a song about feeling a little judge-y about a girl he used to know that goes out dancing and travels and has a life of her own. All the while admitting that he left her in this city to do his own stuff. But he seems to have expected her to stay in some type of time-safe cocoon while he's out being Drake?

My friend had a conversation with a man she was dating about some thoughts she had on her body. Her lower belly, like most women, has a little extra insulation. The guy was telling her that he kinda liked it. Her response: Of course, you do! It's a safe, warm baby love oven.