Starshine has a revelation about hanky-panky in a hatchback.
Starshine Roshell
Writer & Columnist | Santa Barbara, CA
Starshine has a revelation about hanky-panky in a hatchback.
Starshine confesses to a brief but hands-on affair with a hot stone masseuse.
Starshine doesn’t just analyze Disney’s decision to ban tobacco from its films. She puts it in her pipe and smokes it.
Stuntman camp. Heavy metal guitar camp. Jedi camp. Now that summer nears a close, Starshine and other parents ask: What the hell were we thinking?
The size of their bosoms and underpants notwithstanding, Starshine and her grandma have something cool in common. They both love to spin a good yarn.
Another senator (yawn) was caught with his pants down. Starshine ponders the nature of Capitol Hill canoodling.
Starshine dishes on the curious kitchen phenomenon that happens when the man of the house skips out for supper.
As summer vacations get airborne, Starshine pens a personal letter to first-class passengers everywhere.
I owe you all a big apology. Because when I was a kid? Growing up in the San Fernando Valley? We talked in this totally weird way and all? And, like, it spread.
A bus tour of Portland’s all-nude strip clubs reveals something Starshine didn’t expect – a rare glimpse into the male mating psyche.
Continue reading Everything I Know About Men I Learned at Strip Clubs