One evening about six years ago, as I stood at The Republic’s bar ordering bourbon, I caught a glimpse of a woman’s face scrunching in disgust. So I turned to her and asked “what–you don’t like ...

At some point during this weekend of mulled wine, spiked cocoa and one too many glasses of Scotch with the relatives, I was reminded of one of my favorite poems: Charles Baudelaire's "Be Drunk." "And ...

Nobody shame-spirals during a hangover like me. Well, that's a little narcissistic. There are probably a lot of you out there in the great expanse of the universe who hurdle down the shame vortex ...