As they say in Game of Thrones, "All men must die," and such is the case for Dorito Man, the statue made in my likeness out of 100 pounds of Chile Limon flavored Dinamitas Doritos. After it molded in City Weekly's foyer for a few months, we reluctantly had to dispose of Dorito Man and did so in the best way possible: by dragging him out to a shooting range in the middle of nowhere and blasting him with old-timey cowboy guns.
I talk to my dog all the time. I say things like, “Aww, Hot Dog, who’s a good girl?” and “Goddammit Hot Dog, stop barking.” But not once in the six years Hot Dog and I have been together has she joined the conversation.
It would appear that Utah is a barren wasteland, a place where one must suffer through this awful existence while never tasting the thrill that is baked goods shaped like genitals--that is, if it wasn't for one rebellious bakery.--- Meet Leann Wilson, owner of Madam & Steve Bakery, the first and only erotic bakery in the state of Utah.
When you're an impressionable kid, it seems there's certain people in life that have it all figured out; the manager at GameStop, that guy with the gauged ears at Lids, the dude with the tiny pony tail selling the remote control helicopters in the middle of the mall and most importantly, the true master of them all, the roller rink DJ.--- Last time I was at a roller rink I'm pretty sure I was 12 and they played Ace of Base's "The Sign" over and over again while I crushed green apple Sour Straws and hit on chicks by spraying them with a broken drinking fountain.
Until recently, even the thought of having children has been low on my to-do list (a list that starts with finishing Clone Wars on Netflix and ends with paying off student loans). It seems the majority of my childhood friends either have kids or are on the verge of scheduling their lives around ovulation cycles (disturbing evidence of this is easily observed on my Facebook feed).