Brianne Hogan

For a long time, romantic love was an esoteric thing to me that I assumed would occur eventually, like taxes and having your clothes dry-cleaned.

Dry humping my pillow and imagining it was David Duchovny seemed a much hotter alternative than doing the real thing.

advice guru. lube lover. workaholic.

Last week was my imaginary ex-boyfriend's birthday. January 2, to be exact. I only know this because Facebook told me so. I had forgotten about him.

Seriously, the lady is Busy with a capital “B.”

Women and Hollywood, your one-stop source for all headlines, stats, facts, and figures for issues related to women and film.

I sent out Christmas cards this year, which I wrote upon with an actual pen. But it wasn’t always like this.

The chin hairs were the first hint of my impending senior discounts and early-bird dinners.

accidental movie star. founder of crankytown. wannabe villain.

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