I used to have an iTunes playlist called Music To Fuck To, a curated aural orgy of thumping bass and wah-wah guitar glory.  All the obvious songs were there—”Whole Lotta Love,” “Come Together,” “Lebanese Blonde.” Naturally, I played it one night when I was giving a platonic massage to

  In middle school, the biggest problem in my suburban world was whether to get a Jansport or Eastpak back pack. If I recall correctly, my mom got me a LL Bean backpack that she said I could “reuse until high school.” I died. My second biggest problem was convincing