Helping men survive the mosh pit of midlife.

Gen X would like to remind everyone that shutting the fuck up is a perfectly valid love language.
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The scariest thing about this photo is that every kid on that couch eventually grew up to discover that the human body is a fucking haunted house.
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Stay safe out there, fellow Xers.
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If any kid comes to my house tonight dressed like this and says, "Hey, you gotta let them know you're out there," they're getting a full-size candy bar.
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Nothing says Gen-X childhood quite like voluntarily strapping a toxic plastic mask to your face and then running into traffic for miniature Snickers bars.
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Just once, I'd like daylight saving time to give us back something more useful than an hour. Like my childhood, my knees, or a functioning democracy.
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For Gen X, Patrick Stewart was proof that the future might actually be okay, as long as the grown-ups were calm, British, and profoundly disappointed in us. He made intelligence look heroic, decency look strong, and a cup of Earl Grey feel like something worth ordering in space.
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Happy birthday to Winona Ryder, our favorite weirdo.
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It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown premiered on this day in 1966. For 60 years, Linus has served as the lone prophet of a pumpkin god slumbering beyond the veil of human perception, which is a lot of theological responsibility for a kid who still carries a blanket.
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Bill Murray tried to warn us.
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Toy Story would've been a very different movie in 1987. Andy would've been found dead by morning.
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“So, Bert, when you say you and Ernie share a bedroom, what exactly does that mean?”
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The last time Milwaukee went to the World Series, America was still buying music on eight-track tapes and making legally binding financial commitments to get a free copy of Frampton Comes Alive!
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Somewhere in that neighborhood was a grown adult who looked at a little bald kid dressed as a ghost and thought, “Fuck him. Give him a rock.”
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Happy Taco Tuesday the 13th, to all who celebrate.
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If you understand this image immediately, congratulations. You have passed the Gen X secret handshake. IYKYK.
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Hitchhiking really went downhill once there was a nonzero chance the passenger would become the Hulk.
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Sorry, kids. Gen X already had Rizz. And she was goddamn terrifying.
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RIP to Mike Ditka, the greatest coach who ever stalked a sideline. He was one magnificent, foul-mouthed son of a bitch. Da Bears.
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Kmart was our first safe space. It was between the winter coats and the irregular pants.
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