It’s impossible to feel lonely, Starshine discovers, when you’re high on acetone.
Starshine Roshell
Writer & Columnist | Santa Barbara, CA
It’s impossible to feel lonely, Starshine discovers, when you’re high on acetone.
Bald? Rich? Covered in tattoos? Starshine gets hooked on the shockingly addictive, slightly creepy pastime of Googling exes.
Few people know what it’s like to have a name as odd as Starshine’s. But Talula Does the Hula from Hawaii? She knows.
Continue reading Starshine Roshell, Meet Talula Does the Hula From Hawaii
I’d love to tell McCain exactly where he can put his stale rhetoric. Instead, I tell him where he can’t put it, and why.
Through some terrible mutation of natural law, a four-letter word has become my young son’s all-time favorite utterance.
Starshine has been thrust, Spandex-clad, into a world of sweaty, grunting beefcakes. And she doesn’t like it as much as you’d think.
Despite what it looks like, Starshine swears she did NOT give birth to two Sarah Brightman-loving 68-year olds.
Poked by a stranger? Facebook friendships are freaky.
Powerless at the pump, the bus may be the exact change you need.
Church and state collide on South Carolina’s highways, leaving atheists a little cross.