"I love sharing my world with people,' Kim Kardashian says in this month's issue of Paper, also sharing with people a photo shoot intended to remind the world that she, too, has an ass.

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If I had a cowboy hat, what would be inside? Nothing but a furry dome—and a mouse that likes to ride!

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Adam Mansbach , author of Go the Fuck to Sleep and You Have To Fucking Eat , on writing children’s books for adults and making time for his own daughter.

Jenny Chang / BuzzFeed

I wrote Go the Fuck to Sleep in July, 2011, between the hours of 4 and 5 p.m., with no expectations and no pants on. The idea, however, occurred to me several weeks earlier in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Also with no pants on.

My daughter and inspiration, Vivien, was hundreds of miles away. I was in Michigan to teach a weeklong fiction workshop for high schoolers. All the cool kids signed up for the poetry classes; everybody who wanted to write prose was midway through the second chapter of a projected tetralogy about wizards and bisexual angel-dragons and socially awkward wan teenage singer-songwriters. But the gig was not about pedagogy, or trying. It was about drinking hard with friends.

My co-teachers were three of the country's most awesome poets: Patricia Smith, Kevin Coval, and Roger Bonair-Agard. I cannot overstate the individual and collective brilliance of these folks, on the stage and on the page. They are responsible for inspiring thousands of young people to make the awful, life-destroying decision to become poets.

The four of us were being put up in a sprawling Victorian on the tenured side of town; the family who lived there was vacationing and they'd donated it for the week. Patricia immediately claimed the master suite with the claw-foot tub. This went uncontested. The rest of us were all secretly terrified of Patricia, whom we knew less well than we knew each other and who had won a Guggenheim. We suspected that she might be a real adult, the kind who would find our juvenile antics tiresome and ask us to keep the noise down so she could get a decent night's sleep.

This turned out to be wildly off-base. By the time I dropped my bag in the room of a 13-year-old kid who slept on a bed the size of a prison cot and made my way downstairs, Patricia was scouring the pantry for alcohol. We'd been invited to consume whatever was perishable; Patricia astutely pointed out that the bottle of white wine she'd found would not retain its integrity for more than a few hundred years, and pulled the cork.

This was a stopgap measure, though. We needed booze. Roger found a comically small bicycle and headed out in search of rum, because Roger is from Trinidad. I started cobbling together ingredients for a pasta sauce. It was sweltering in there, and Kevin, Patricia and I stripped down to tank tops and shorts and opened another bottle of wine. It's amazing how being given free rein over someone else's house instantly turns you into a teenager whose parents are out of town.

Two things of note happened in the next hour. I made a joke about writing a children's book called Go the Fuck to Sleep that made Kevin and Patricia laugh, so I posted the joke on Facebook and racked up about five likes. And far more importantly, Roger failed to return. We grew concerned. What if he'd been hit by a car, and nobody was bringing rum?

Jenny Chang / BuzzFeed

When we heard the door open, we broke into applause. I shouted, "Took you long enough, motherfucker!" and Patricia and Kevin added profanities of their own.

Into the room strode a man who was not Roger. This was easy to determine, because Roger is a tattoo-covered black dude with a mohawk, whereas this individual was Caucasian, in his seventies, and had a full head of white hair. He looked so patrician that the only logical assumption was that he was a senator.

"Hello!" he said, striding toward us with his hand outstretched, grinning ear to ear, "I'm John! This is my daughter's house! What's your name?"

That was how we knew he was Canadian. If you're American and a senator and you walk into your daughter's house expecting it to be vacant and instead find black and Jewish people standing around cursing and drinking in their underwear, that's not how you react.

Patricia shook his hand and explained who we were and what we were doing there. John thought that was great. "That's great," he said. "Everybody wins!" Yes, we agreed. Everybody.

It turned out that John and his wife, Betty, who walked in a few moments later, had been at a soccer tournament with their grandson, Sam, whose room I was occupying. It was supposed to be a weeklong thing, but Sam's team was hot garbage and they'd gotten bounced the first day, so here they were! Back early!

We were apologetic. Maybe we could find somewhere else to stay, we said. But no! Don't be ridiculous! John and Betty would stay on the foldout bed in the TV room! They always stayed there — they loved it! And Sam could stay in the basement, in a rat's nest of blankets on the floor! Fuck him!

Uh, OK, we said. We'll try not to disturb you. No! they said. You won't disturb us! You can't! Have parties! Be loud! You're poets! You're doing a great thing for the kids! Everybody wins!

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NFL on FOX

Things have really been looking up for Football as Football since their Kickstarter campaign failed. They opened up a web store, and yesterday they were featured multiple times in Fox’s broadcast of the Falcons/Lions game in London. As far as I could tell watching it, the logos popped up on the bumpers pretty much every time the game was coming back from or heading to commercial in place of the teams’ normal logos. According to their twitter feed, Football as Football licensed the logos out to Fox for the broadcast to add some European flavor to the game.

As an added bonus, the game was super exciting, meaning that presumably the logos found a pretty significant audience. So hey, good for the designers over at Football as Football. They have proven their moms wrong and shown them that no, a degree in graphic design is not worthless. Hopefully this means that we get to see more of this kind of thing in the future.

Twitter/The Rock

You’re likely familiar with The Rock’s throwback photo from the ’90s. How could you forget it really, that fanny pack is bronzed in the Smithsonian. The photo made its first appearance on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon in July of this year and has since become a staple of pop culture.

Naturally, many of The Rock’s fans dressed up as 1996 Dwayne Johnson for Halloween. As you can imagine, the results were quite spectacular.

Twitter/The Rock

Twitter/The Rock

Twitter/The Rock

Twitter/The Rock

Twitter/The Rock

Twitter/The Rock

[The Rock Twitter]

You’ll be stunned to discover people have found a new and exciting way to take the piss.

...this became a thing.

Twitter: @Nickipedia101

Twitter: @scoote1972

And so on.

topsy.com

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Pinterest is one of the internet's more interesting inventions — a website for craftsy people to share their creativity with the world without quite as much twee pretension as Etsy. The dark side of it, however, is that when it comes to food, that creativity could often be described charitably as "misplaced" and uncharitably as "what unholiness hast thou wrought upon thine Jell-O mold?"

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Meet Michelle Roque, a flag football phenom at Florida State University. At a tournament fundraiser, Roque went full video game on her opponents, juking them like she was Barry Sanders.

Her hips don’t lie folks. Nope, they don’t lie at all.

Pretty damn incredible. I vote she starts in place of Andy Dalton next game. Who’s with me?

[Brobible]

Even in a rout, Peyton Manning's reluctant to lose reps. The old man wants to play; you have to be quicker than that, Brock Osweiler.

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We've heard of poppin' some molly and sweatin', but not popping molly, snorting some coke, car-jacking an ambulance, careening every which way through traffic, and then jerking off in the police station. That'd probably make for a better song, though.

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The 1-3 Denver Nuggets host LeBron James and the 1-3 Cavaliers at home tonight, and whoever is in charge of the Nuggets' Twitter account spent last night making sure everyone in Denver is amped for the big game. The new Big Three are going to be in town!

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The most common weapon inside is simply a can top. Pulled off a tin of beans and folded over, it doesn't even need to be sharpened to leave a jagged scar. A shank, also known as a shiv, is not for cutting but for stabbing. It's called a "gun" in jailhouse vernacular, and the most valuable kind is fashioned out of materials that don't activate a metal detector. Prison armorers make a good living shaping brass (sourced from structural elements) and aluminum (soda cans, mostly) into knives, though fiberglass and even wood can work, too. Most shanks are made for one specific purpose and disposed of immediately thereafter; getting caught with one is a year in solitary.

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The war of words continues between President Barack Obama and Michael Jordan. If you recall, last week, Jordan called Obama a “sh*tty golfer”—said he wouldn’t want Obama in his foursome.

In an interview with WJMR in Wisconsin, Obama responded:

“Michael wasn’t very well informed about this, I think he might’ve just been trying to give Ahmad an extra ratings boost on his show,” Obama continued.

“But there is no doubt that Michael is a better golfer than I am. Of course if I was playing twice a day for the last 15 years, then that might not be the case.

And here’s Obama dropping the NUKE!

“He might want to spend more time thinking about the Bobcats — or the Hornets,” Obama added.

Oh you just got served MJ, you just got served hard.

By the way, the Hornets are 1-3. In the 2011-2012 season, they went 7-59 for a .106 winning percentage, the worst in NBA history. These two might have a lot more common than they think. But as Kermit would say, that’s none of my business.

Pass it on: hamsters are the hot new mixologists. Pretty sure bars in Williamsburg, Silver Lake, and the Mission will be crawling (literally!) with these little guys. Throwing cherries in Manhattans and recommending Yamazaki Single Malt for your evening indulgence. It's like Ratatouille, but CUTER. Yeah, I said it.

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Relax, there isn’t really going to be a 40-metre otter’s head in Brighton. Via Phil Lucas .

The people of Brighton may have noticed a series of mysterious planning notices around the town.

phillucas.com

For example, this one is particularly troubling for local residents.

phillucas.com

However, they are the work of comedian Phil Lucas, who has struck again 12 months after his last batch of fake notices.

phillucas.com

Brighton is known for its alternative culture, but this might be a step too far.

phillucas.com

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Look at this kid, look how awesome he is. You’ll never be as cool as him. Never. I mean I hate the Boston Bruins, I hate them very much. But this kid makes me hate them slightly less.

Boston went on to beat the Panthers 2-1 in overtime. This kid was the first star of the game, obviously.

Hockey Webcaster

[Hockey Webcaster]

You’ve likely seen this type of contest before: hit a layup, free throw, three-pointer and half-court shot and bada bing bada boom, you win the grand prize. We’ve seen it happen a few times but never with so much drama.

In this video, Alex Tillinghast starts off real slow by missing a layup and clanking several three-pointers. With 7 seconds left, things looked dire. But Tillinghast reached deep and banked a three-pointer. Then, well, you can probably guess what happened next.

Drake Athletics

The Drake student walked away with a Ford F-150 as a result. Good for him.

I swear to you, I wanted to not like Despicable Me. It’s like the cinematic equivalent of a baby sloth video. Nobody can resist that.

But listen to me readers. What I fear even more is growing to like an entire movie about the minions.

Previously in Despicable Me

• NASA’s Next Spacesuits Look Like A Weird Cross Between TRON, Gru, And Buzz Lightyear
• Watch Kristen Wiig Kick Cupcake Butt In This Despicable Me 2 Clip
• Despicable Me’s Gru Visits Ellen, Shows Off Dance Moves [VIDEO]

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James Harden went for a buzzer-beating dunk to end the third quarter tonight in Philadelphia. Nerlens Noel had something to say about that. Specifically: "Fuuuuuuck no."

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WGN regularly features a young child on its Friday morning weather forecast, and usually it's awkward and bad TV. Not yesterday, though, as second grader Charlie Hale absolutely dominated the broadcast.

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An opinion common to the children of America is that mushrooms are bad. They express this viewpoint with crinkled little noses and furrowed brows, picking mushrooms out of their food with chubby little fingers. "I don't wike these," they say. "They'we gwoss."

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Many people like candy corn, such as hobos, serial murderers, and Satan. But actually, candy corn is terrible. If you give it out to trick-or-treating children this evening, you belong in fucking prison.

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Colorado parents have figured out a whole new thing to get hysterically up-in-arms about this Halloween: the prospect of their kids bringing home weed-infused candy.

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Okay, a few things:

1) First things first: That is the best picture of Jeremy Piven. Go ahead and poke around a bit for yourself, if you like. Take all the time you need. You will not find a better picture of Jeremy Piven. I promise.

2) Here is Jeremy Piven’s story about winning a pushup contest in Cuba, via Vanity Fair: “I went to Cuba one time, and ran out of cash, and they don’t take credit cards. And so I was genuinely stranded, and had to be incredibly crafty. You’re not going to believe this, and I’m almost afraid to even say it, but I had a pushup contest with a guy who was absolutely sure that he could do more pushups than me. I was so desperate to just get a few dollars to get some food—I was much younger, of course—and so we battled it out, and I made a little money. I made enough money to eat, and then I went home.”

3) There is so much more to that story. There has to be. And I must know all of it.

4) Like, was Jeremy Piven just running around a communist country challenging strangers to pushup contests? And if so, how many people did he challenge before he got to this guy? A dozen? More? Fifty?

5) “Hey, how was your day, honey?” “Very strange. An American in a fedora ran up to me on the street and challenged me to a pushup contest.” “ME TOO.”

6) Or was it the flipside of that, where some brawny Cuban saw an American tourist and challenged him to a pushup contest that had a grand prize of $5 and the pride of the winner’s respective countrymen. Was there a crowd around them? Was his Cuban adversary promptly imprisoned by Castro’s men for bringing shame to the nation? IS HE STILL IMPRISONED TO THIS DAY?

7) What was Piven’s plan if he lost? He entered into a Cuban pushup contest for money despite having no money to pay up with if he ended up getting vanquished, according to his story. People have been killed for less. I mean, probably.

8) How was this not an episode of Entourage? It’s got everything: a fuzzy plot filled with holes, everything working out in the end thanks to a reckless act of bravado, Jeremy Piven doing pushups, EVERYTHING.

9) As I was typing that I got a crystal clear image in my head of Johnny Drama standing off to the side shouting “VICTORY” while Turtle tries to trade one of his sneakers for Cuban weed and Vince realizes he should drop out of Aquaman 4 to do an indie Che Guevera movie, much to E’s dismay.

10) LLOYD!

Jessie Guy-Ryan's previous work for The Toast can be found here.

It was snowing. They told him when he took the gig--taking care of the resort during the winter season--that it'd be a lot of snow. A hell of a lot of snow. "I don't mind," he chuckled, "Don't gotta mow the lawn at least!"

Shoveling the front walk was a bitch, though. At least it just had to be cleared for him and the girls to get to the SnowCat and back.

He stamped his boots on the mat in the front hallway, carefully propping the shovel up against the corner where Sally had laid down the tarp. Tossing his gloves and boots in the corner, he pulled his phone out and texted Sally the coffee emoji. Jen had taught him that recently. Before hitting "send," he paused and added a blue heart.

Hopeful that coffee was on its way, he made his way to the area of the front lobby they'd taken to using as a makeshift living room. He heard the fire roaring and Jen and Kelly's giggles above it. He entered the room, and noticed the two girls cuddled up in an armchair--his armchair, the comfiest armchair, the one he always sat in--engrossed in the iPad.

"Now, what are you two troublemakers doing over there, sittin' in your dad's chair?"

The giggling stopped. The iPad, too, seemed to stop, a frozen reflection of red and blue and green glows on his daughters' faces. After a moment that might have been a temporary stoppage of spacetime, they stared up at him blankly.

Their voices had the howling winter wind deep within them as they tonelessly recited in perfect monotonous harmony, "This is our chair."

"We have always sat in this chair."

"We will always sit in this chair."

*

Read more Scary Stories to Tell Dads in the Dark at The Toast.

The Product Manager Who Fights An Invisible Enemy Every Morning

He's so funny! Who is he swinging his arms wildly at? Is he screaming silently, or trying desperately to breathe because something is choking him? No one knows, because by the time he joins the office meeting at noon, he's in no shape to talk about it. (He's usually very badly beaten!)

The Woman Who Lives Under The Glass In The Copy Machine

Every office has one of these -- a woman whose head is only visible when you lift the cover off the copy machine in the morning and see her staring up at you from underneath the glass. How does she fit in there? What is she mouthing silently at you? Nobody knows, but it's better not to be alone with her for too long.

Read more The Eight Types Of People You Meet In Every Office at The Toast.

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