Mélanie Berliet

Curious to know what kind of men use the Internet to find extramarital lovers, journalist Melanie Berliet posed as a wayward wife on the social-networking site Ashley Madison (tagline: “Life is short. Have an affair”).

Fighting is one of the less awesome aspects of being a couple, but unless you’re creepily contented with one another, it’s inevitable.

A couple of shots make it seem less odd that almost every nook—including an elevated, cushioned cubby accessible by ladder—is occupied by a twosome engaged in an aggressive round of necking and/or heavy petting.

Have sex when you don’t want to.

Most of us are young and dumb at some point. It’s abnormal, in fact, to encounter an emotionally intelligent teenager.

My mission in picking up Babeland’s “vibe panty” (a pair of black satin underwear with a remote-controlled vibrator sewn into the crotch) is simple: at a little past the two-year dating mark, I want to tackle the threat of sexual staleness, proactively.

“You’re the Jedi pooper,” my boyfriend declared roughly six months into our relationship. He was referring to the fact that I’d managed to duck detection while going number two for an entire half year.

God forbid I accidentally follow her, or retweet, “favorite,” or “like” something she posts

In the quest to invent strategies for becoming blindingly blitzed, no group excels quite like the young.

As I stood in my underwear and a headpiece made from stockings, “Betty,” a six-foot drag queen with a red bob that matched her thigh-high boots, spent two hours grooming me into the sparkliest Cleopatra-clone possible. And then I got up on stage at Lucky Cheng’s cabaret in New York City, and officiated the marriage of Eduardo Chan and Israel Hornedo.

Are Americans prudes? Some people think so. After all, the country that gave the world Elvis’s hips, free love, and Porn Valley is also a land founded by Puritans, given to legislating what goes on in the bedroom, and perpetually outraged by the sexual dalliances of politicians (though, to be fair, even the Italians are getting fed up with presidential philandering).

At the time, all I knew about Meghan was that she was a Republican, had written at least two books, and was the daughter of former presidential candidate John McCain.

I was Carl’s underling, but I refused to consider myself a victim. Our audacious, perpetual flirtation was not one-sided. I could have ignored him. I could’ve avoided the girlish smiles and spurned the extra attention. Foreseen that it might not end well.

What I never expected was that one of these guys would become a constant source of entertainment.

I’m neither a scientist nor a moralist, but as soon as I learned about Liquid Trust, I had to know if the stuff worked.

You need another person to make sure you’re breathing and to prevent you from choking on your own vomit.

“He wanted you to cover your body in — what?”

As rallying cries go, “Artista, Erotica, Utopia!” is among the more ludicrous, especially for an underground pop-up strip club, where eager young women perform awkward erotic dance routines for a members-only crowd of well-off young gentlemen.