Jetta Rae DoubleCakes

There's a dresser in my drawer, and all it contains is a flannel shirt and a picture of me and Henrietta, from Christmas 2013.

The apron was a birthday gift—to both of us, really. She was the first woman to ever call me 'Mommy.'

Every Friday, our very DoubleCakes scours the videosphere for the best cringe-inducing documentaries, found footage and TV specials of yore.

Beth's story of abuse and murderous desire is ultimately one of redemption and insight into the human condition.

Visibility and respect, held with tired arms in a dire double headlock—this is the struggle of women in sports.

The cycle of un-addressed intimate partner violence in MMA continues for War Machine, now recovering from a suicide attempt.

We deserve to be safe. We deserve to live—even at the cost of your flawed, incomplete grasp of lesbian identity.

DoubleCakes dishes out advice to a reader who did something unseemly in her one-night-stand's bed.

Every now and then a “Mommy” would escape her lips and I would wipe it from my face, like mud or mosquitos on an otherwise idyllic summer’s drive.

When you openly deride poor/sick/incarcerated people who have access to nutritious and delicious food, you set us all up for failure.