Jody Amable

A new feature with music picks tailor-made to ensure your weekend jam sessions are absolutely ravishing.

The further I get into this series, the harder time I am having remembering what the eff has happened so far. You see, I am an Old Lady.

According to the magazine, women need special help understanding sports. Cue the glorious, hilarious Twitter outrage.

Jon Stewart, step aside. Your heir apparent has arrived.

Forget a cute story of wizard wonderment — the real moral of Harry Potter is that life is an endless parade of pain and turmoil where you have to watch everyone you’ve ever loved die.

There are a lot of things to hate about the Olympics.

No matter how drunk he is, he can’t NOT notice this. His hand is moving. What do I do? What do I do? Do I politely ask him to stop? Do I yell at him? Do I wheel around and whack him in the face? You don’t know what he’s doing, Jody. Calm down. Don’t make a scene.

If I let everyone off the hook for extenuating circumstances like, “He’s over 50, so he probably just doesn’t know any better,” no one’s ever going to stop calling me “sweetie.”

Like most nerd realms, music writing is a predominantly male world. Especially if, like me, your greatest love is classic rock.

I was waiting to finally not like a Harry Potter book, and folks, I found it. Half-Blood Prince was boring.