Evelyn Hernandez knows she might be losing her immigration status next year, meaning she’ll be officially undocumented and potentially a deportation target. In those circumstances a lot of people wouldn’t want a journalist to print their names, but she declined my offer to protect her identity. “I don’t mind,” she told me. “I come here to this country and I will fight to stay in this country—with my real name.”

Hernandez left her family in El Salvador 25 years ago at age 19 to come by herself to the US. It was toward the end of the civil war there, and nearly impossible to find work. “We didn’t have food, water, electricity, basic stuff,” she said.

She had almost finished ninth grade and was hoping to continue her education in the US. It didn’t happen. Instead, she went right to work, sending money back home to her family in Soyapango, San Salvador. “When I came to this country I thought everything would be easy, people say the United States is the best option,” she said. “But when we come, we realize it’s not a dream. It’s difficult, so difficult.”

Still, she stayed, working and living as an undocumented immigrant, under the radar. She was granted status for a few years in the 1990s, but it wasn’t renewed, so she went back to being undocumented. Then came 2001: After a devastating earthquake hit El Salvador, US officials included the country in a humanitarian program known as Temporary Protected Status (TPS), allowing Salvadorans already living in the US to stay and work legally. Hernandez applied, and has been living with TPS status ever since.

That’s how it was until Monday’s announcement that the US will end the TPS designation for El Salvador, putting the fate of Hernandez and many other Salvadorans in flux. But while those I spoke with living in Los Angeles were fearful about the uncertainty of their futures, they’re also bracing for a fight. The decision has turned Salvadoran workers all over the city into activists.

“I’m not going to go back,” said Jose Siguenza, who came to the US from El Salvador in 1994 when he was 24. Working today as a supervisor in a printing shop, he says that since he’s been paying taxes and social security for over a decade, it’s worth fighting for. “People must not be afraid,” he told me. “We have rights. We can talk to the government, we can come out of the shadows. We cannot be afraid. We have 18 more months.”

Homeland Security Secretary Kirstjen M. Nielsen said in a statement that the termination of the program will take effect in September 2019 “to allow for an orderly transition.” Nielsen added that since the earthquake in El Salvador, much of the infrastructure in the country has been rebuilt.

“Many reconstruction projects have now been completed. Schools and hospitals damaged by the earthquakes have been reconstructed and repaired,” Nielsen said. “Money has been provided for water and sanitation… The substantial disruption of living conditions caused by the earthquake no longer exist.”

The demand that Salvadorans return to their country of origin is somewhat ironic coming from the Trump administration. It has used the violence of the MS-13 gang as one justification for its anti-immigration policies. Yet the administration is now proposing sending individuals back to a country that has one of the highest sustained murder rates in Central America, according to recent data from the UN Office on Drugs and Crime.

“The roads are probably in better condition than they were in 2001, that part is true,” said Daniel Sharp, Legal Director of the Central American Resource Center (CARECEN) in Los Angeles. “But over the 17 years, the stability of the violence has gone in the opposite direction, so it’s unquestionably a less stable place to be sending people back to,”

There are approximately 200,000 Salvadorans living in the US with TPS, according to the Pew Research Center. Every 18 months since the program began in 2001, they are required to re-register and undergo background checks.

“This particular group is totally playing by the rules. If you have a felony or two misdemeanors of any kind, including driving without a license,” you’re out of the program, said Sharp. “We used to point out in the Bush years when the program would come up for renewal, that neither President Bush or Vice President Cheney would be eligible for TPS if they were foreign nationals based on their own criminal records.”

TPS was never meant to be a permanent relief, nor a path to citizenship.

“The reality is that it’s a temporary program with an uncertain future when you sign up for it,” said Sharp. “But at a certain point you have to ask: Even if this was conceived as a temporary program, at what point does it become immoral to apply that to the US citizen children who are going to lose their parents and the people who have spent their lives here?”

Hernandez is an example of someone whose life has changed dramatically since she first got status. Now 44, she’s married and her husband, originally from Mexico, is a US citizen, as are her three sons. And while her husband, or her eldest son, who is 21, could sponsor her citizenship, she’s elected to remain with TPS, because to go through that process she’d have to return to El Salvador first and petition from there. That could take years, and she doesn’t want to separate from her family even if the end result is permanent legal status.

“When my kids were small, I was thinking I didn’t want to miss time when they’re growing up, the teenager stuff, graduating from high school,” she told me. Now that they are in college, “I don’t want to miss their marriages, building their own families. I want to be a part of that.” Once the time comes, if necessary, Hernandez will go back to being undocumented.

Because she’s had status under TPS, the government has her information, but she’s not worried about being found and deported. She lived for years before TPS as an undocumented immigrant. “No big deal,” she says. “I can do it again.”

Organizations like CARECEN are working with the Salvadoran consulate to offer free legal clinics and also to identify TPS holders who may be eligible for other immigration relief. Sharp told me they are also educating people about removal proceedings and what to expect. “There was a lot of talk about people being shipped out of the country immediately in 2019,” he said. “The reality is that the system generally doesn’t work that way. Cases in Los Angeles immigration court on average take about three to four years to be processed.”

There are also hopes for legislation between now and September 2019 that would adjust the status of TPS beneficiaries. (On Thursday, the Daily Beast reported that reversing the Trump administration’s decision could be part of a broader deal on immigration.)

“I think no one’s under any illusion with this administration in the short term—that’s not going to be easy,” Sharp said. “And there’s a very real possibility that September 2019 will come and go and we won’t be successful and the effort will continue. The administration will have a practical decision about whether it wants to pump a couple of hundred thousand people into an already clogged system.”

Hernandez wants to go back to El Salvador to visit, but not to live. She misses her parents and sisters and talks to them often. Her sister tells her stories about not being able to walk down certain streets in the neighborhood because of gangs.

“The majority of us aren’t planning to go back,” Hernandez told me. “I’ve been in this country for more than 25 years. Right here is my life—my kids, my husband. I built my family here. Why should I go back? Why? I don’t see a reason. I have everything right here. This is making me strong—to fight to stay in this country.”

Cole Kazdin is a writer living in Los Angeles.

Washington, like Hollywood, has seen multiple powerful men swept up in recent allegations of sexual harassment and misconduct, seeing as Congress is the kind of place that behaviour has been able to thrive. Now some female lawmakers are working to call attention to the Hill's troubling environment, orchestrating their own #MeToo protest inspired by the Golden Globes.

According to NBC News, female Democrats in the House are planning to wear black like their Hollywood counterparts to call attention to the #MeToo movement at Trump's upcoming State of the Union. The January 30 speech will bring together all members of Congress, and both men and women are encouraged to join in the demonstration.

The idea was spearheaded by representatives in the Democratic Women's Working Group, which includes California's Jackie Speier, who's been one of the strongest voices speaking out about sexual harassment on Capitol Hill. After sharing her own sexual assault experience, Speier spearheaded legislation that would change the way misconduct is reported in Congress.

Along with Speier, Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi has also pledged to wear black for the cause.

"We are supporting the brave women in every industry and every corner of the country who are making their voices heard,” Pelosi said in a statement, according to ABC. "We are at a watershed moment in the nationwide fight against sexual harassment and discrimination, and we must continue to keep up the drumbeat of action for real change."

Like the women at the Golden Globes, the lawmakers' effort aims to call more attention to the #MeToo movement and the Times Up initiative, which was founded by 300 women in the entertainment industry working to combat sexual harassment across multiple industries. The initiative includes a $13 million legal defense fund, made up of donations, for women hoping to fight sexual harassment in the workplace.

Related: Senator Gillibrand Is an Unstoppable Advocate

Jason Momoa, aka Khal Drogo aka Aquaman, is no stranger to Newfoundland but he seemingly didn’t realize that being there in the middle of winter would require a jacket.

The Aquaman star has been filming the TV series Frontier on the island since 2015. Though the series focuses on the fur trade, Momoa found himself without so much as a windbreaker when he landed in Newfoundland Monday in the middle of a snowstorm. (Parts of Aquaman were also shot in Newfoundland, btw. )

“I’m in Newfoundland! Check this shit out, and I forgot my coat,” he says in a video posted to Instagram in which he looks like he’s been living out of a van (someplace warm) for the last six months. Then he pans the camera to what appears to be a pretty heavy snowfall. “I’m an idiot,” he says.

According to the Atlantic White Shark Conservancy, this winter has been so cold that sharks have literally been freezing to death and washing up on shore.

Momoa is originally from Hawaii so cold weather may not be his thing. I can relate.

Follow Manisha Krishnan on Twitter.

President Obama will be the first guest on David Letterman's upcoming Netflix series, My Next Guest Needs No Introduction, when the show's debut episode hits the streaming service this Friday. It will be Obama's first televised interview since leaving office, and there's no shortage of topics for Obama, Dave, and Dave's beard to discuss during the hour-long interview.

But in a new clip released ahead of Friday's premiere, Obama and Letterman don't talk about Trump or the joys of jury duty. Instead, the pair tackles a much more pressing topic: Obama's tips for the dance floor.

"I have dad moves," the former president tells Letterman, recalling a story where he and his daughter danced onstage with Prince a few months before the singer's death. "And I think the key is what we call 'staying in the pocket.'"

Apparently, Obama subscribes to that classic Hitch tenant about sticking in your comfort zone while getting your groove on, so as to avoid some Icarian fate on the dance floor by trying to pull off something a little too advanced.

"I think everybody here knows dads who go out of the pocket," Obama says, addressing Letterman's chuckling live audience. "They're trying stuff they can't really pull off."

The minute-long clip doesn't give us much more than a taste of the interview, but it looks like Dave didn't miss a step coming back after retirement. He and Obama have a casual and comfortable rapport, and it'll be interesting to see how the conversation will evolve when they tackle some more serious subject matter.

The Obama episode of My Next Guest Needs No Introduction will debut on Netflix Friday, January 12. Until then, revisit the former president's fire Spotify playlists and give his advice a shot.

Remember that sex ed class from your youth when everyone learned to put condoms on bananas? According to a new study out of the University of British Columbia, those lessons aren’t doing much for bisexual and lesbian teen girls.

The paper published in the Journal of Adolescent Health in collaboration with the non-profit Centre for Innovative Public Health Research reveals some brutal sexual health misconceptions by girls aged 14 to 18 living across the United States. In interviews with 160 teens who self-identified as queer, researchers highlighted major gaps in high school sex education.

“I’ve never thought of the transfer of STDs between girls. I’ve never been taught about STDs between females on females,” one 15-year-old girl told researchers.

“No one I know has any idea about how to have safe lesbian sex,” responded another 18-year-old. “I looked to the internet when I first started having sex and I didn’t see anything about using protection if you’re a lesbian.”

The researchers argue that many lesbian and bisexual girls don’t know they can get STIs from other girls because sex education is mostly designed for their straight peers. The study suggests STI prevention programs should explicitly address gay and lesbian sex.

“What surprised us was their overall lack of knowledge when it came to safe sex practices with female partners,” UBC youth health researcher Jennifer Wolowic said in a statement. “When we asked why, many told us they didn’t find their sex ed programs—if they even had one—to be very informative. And even when they asked questions, the focus on heterosexual sex made them feel uncomfortable.”

According to the study, risk of STIs and pregnancy is actually on the rise among queer-identifying teen girls. Diseases like HPV can be transmitted by skin-to-skin contact, or through fluids on shared sex toys.

Many of the respondents associated condoms with pregnancy, and didn’t associate them with female sexual partners. Many said they were more trusting of female partners when it comes to sexual health.

The girls surveyed in the study had a bunch of reasons for not wanting to use barrier methods of protection with other girls. Some thought putting on a dental dam would ruin the mood, while others thought it would reduce sensation.

“I never really used a barrier because I felt it would be weird,” reads one 18-year-old’s response. “Like laying down a sheet of plastic over her vagina just doesn’t seem very sexy.”

Others simply didn’t know where to buy them. “Like where the heck do you buy dental dams?” asked one 15-year-old respondent. (For the record, you can order them online or pick them up at your local sex shop—but you’ll admittedly be pressed to find them at a corner pharmacy).

Instead of using condoms or dental dams, some of the girls said they prefer getting regularly tested with a long-term partner. “If we’re clean, I’d much rather go without any barriers.”

Many of the sexually active participants said they didn’t use protection, but some said they would use condoms or dental dams during one-night stands in future. “If it’s a one-time thing, then you should definitely use dental dams or condoms,” one of the teens told researchers. ‘This is mainly because, for one-time flings, you won’t want to ask about STDs or sexual history, especially if you’re in the moment.”

Though the study focused on American teens, UBC nursing prof and lead author Elizabeth Saewyc said researchers find some of the same trends among queer Canadian teens.

Canada has national guidelines in place to ensure sex ed includes info for “sexual minority young people.” But Saewyc says the guidelines “do not provide detailed and specific guidance on what kind of information is relevant, and schools may or may not provide age-appropriate and medically accurate information that is up to date for LGBTQ youth.”

“Young people need accurate sexual health information, but sex education has traditionally focused on heterosexual sex,” said Saewyc. “Our findings suggest we need to create more inclusive curriculum to help lesbian and bisexual girls have the knowledge they need to make healthy sexual decisions.”

Follow Sarah Berman on Twitter.

Drivers find themselves on the wrong end of police chases for all kinds of reasons: maybe they're bored, or drunk, or living out some kind of weird Grand Theft Auto fantasy. But on Wednesday, two lovebirds in Arizona proved high-tailing it from the cops doesn't always have to be so sinister—in fact, it can actually be kind of touching.

On Wednesday night, police spotted what they believed was a stolen car driving through Mesa, Arizona. But the driver refused to pull over, instead leading a trail of cop cars and a news chopper on a 30-minute high-speed chase.

Screengrabs via ABC 15

Inside were 35-year-old Dustin Perkins and 29-year-old Lovida Flores, two young lovers on the run like Bonnie and Clyde. According to AZ Central, Perkins later claimed he "borrowed" the allegedly stolen car from his dad—maybe the couple wanted to elope?—and was trying to drive it back to him. But he never got the chance.

After driving the wrong way down busy streets and running a few red lights, the chase soon took the couple off-roading, with members of four police departments and a chopper in tow. Soon the two found themselves driving toward a wall—but because love can sometimes make us do highly regrettable things, Perkins drove straight through the fence and into uncharted territory.

Things really went off the rails at that point. Perkins pulled a few erratic turns to try to shake the massive chunk of fencing off his hood, then sped straight toward a ditch. Call it dumb luck or the divine power of love—but somehow, miraculously, he made it through the treacherous pass.

Perkins's lucky streak didn't last much longer. A few seconds later, after careening off a thin road, he plowed the car straight into the bottom of a ditch. Then he and Flores clambered out and took off in opposite directions, running through the vast, desolate desert.

Ostensibly realizing there was no way he was going to shake the cops, Perkins finally gave up. With a gentle wave of his hand, he beckoned Flores toward him, embracing her under the bright, blinding light of the chopper overhead. As a half dozen officers closed in around them, the two kissed, and hugged, and kissed again. Then they got down on the ground spread eagle, letting themselves get cuffed, yanked to their feet, and led into custody.

Perkins broke his hand when he crashed the car, and Flores sustained some injuries as well—a police spokeswoman told AZ Central she was in "serious condition." According to police, the couple is now facing charges of unlawful flight, reckless driving, and vehicle theft, among other crimes.

Give the whole thing a watch above and marvel at the lengths we'll go to for love—in this case, turning a dangerous, televised police chase into an epic kiss cam shot for the grandkids.

Follow Drew Schwartz on Twitter.

In 1980, we saw Lily Tomlin as Violet Newstead in 9 to 5 declaring to her grabby, sexist boss Franklin Hart, Jr., “I am your employee and, as such, I expect to be treated with certain things called DIGNITY and EQUALITY and RESPECT!” It was radical to see an image like that of a woman in a stereotypically docile role as the secretary stand up to her male superior, but more importantly, it was empowering.

9 to 5 captures what it’s like to work in an overwhelmingly toxic and male environment, as well as to be fed up to the point where you don’t care whether you lose your job. Striking back in a dramatic way that will catch and hold your aggressors’ attention is what audiences—some of them victims of workplace harassment themselves—connect with onscreen, and that’s what they deserve to see as we celebrate the “silence breakers” who have banded together this year to expose that same ugly truth that has polluted Hollywood and beyond for years.

It’s also an interesting movie to revisit while reflecting on the images we’ve seen of men dominating women in film and on TV. It also makes me wonder where those types of images are as we consider adult male victims of sexual harassment. The issue is important to consider now especially, as actor Terry Crews’s case against WME agent Adam Venit—who Crews accused of groping him, lies mostly dormant (Crews is still suing him for sexual assault).

The example that most immediately to my mind is Horrible Bosses, the 2011 comedy that’s similar to 9 to 5 in that its characters seek revenge against their insufferable managers. But when Dale’s (Charlie Day) boss Dr. Harris (Jennifer Aniston) sexually harasses him—including an instance of drugging—it’s supposed to be hilarious. Of the three main characters, his situation is supposed to be ironic, one that you’re not actually supposed to feel sorry about because it’s between a woman who looks like Aniston and a man who looks like Day. How could that be sexual harassment?

We’re provoked to condemn the molestation of male children by their preachers, parents, or another adult, as evidenced in works of art such as Ray Donovan, Doubt, Spotlight, Red Hook Summer, and Antwone Fisher. But when it comes to adult male victims, there’s hesitation followed by an impulse to either disregard, poke fun at, or completely discount the issue.

Most recently, there was the scathing dramedy Search Party, which somewhat awkwardly included a storyline featuring reporter Julian (Brandon Michael Hall) being sent inappropriate sexts by his superior, fierce political candidate boss Mary Ferguson (J. Smith Cameron). Julian’s so troubled by Mary’s harassment that he tries to confront her about it, but she minimizes his concerns and manipulates him into feeling like he’s the crazy one. To make matters worse, when he approaches his friend Dory (Alia Shawkat) about it, she instead thinks about how she could benefit from it. Though the show’s built a solid critical reputation for biting observations of narcissistic millennial behavior, relegating Julian’s storyline to B-plot status felt like a missed opportunity to meaningfully examine the issue that the storyline dealt with.

Just as there’s plenty of work to be done when it comes to addressing and handling instances of sexual misconduct in Hollywood across the gender spectrum, there’s also still much left to be desired when it comes to how Hollywood portrays stories centering on male adult victims of sexual assault. Hopefully, as we continue to talk about this issue and its gravity becomes clearer, we’ll see this handled in a more sensitive way that connects to who we are as an audience today—discerning, aware, and unafraid to hold Hollywood accountable. These are the images that come to define us as a culture, and we should be able to find ourselves in them as they are inspired by our own realities.

Follow Candice Frederick on Twitter.

When Memphis Cadeau hit send on Instagram, she had no idea she was opening her tattoo parlor’s version of Pandora’s Box.

The post, which went up two days ago, said that Grim City Tattoo Club in Hamilton, Ontario would remove any racist tattoos, human trafficking tattoos, radiation scars, and pretty much everything that someone had gotten from a traumatic experience. Cadeau couldn’t have comprehended just how many people would want to take her up on that offer.

"It never really occurred to me what I was getting myself into but the second we started getting the messages it was like 'oh shit.' It's daunting, you're going through and you're like 'that's absolutely terrible, the world can't get much worse than this,’” Cadeau told VICE. “Then you open up the next email and are like 'oh OK, that got worse, that got darker.’”

"We have more phone calls, emails, and messages to go through than we even know what to do with.”

The Instagram post that started it all.

The tattoo shop, which is run by Memphis and her husband Travis, just purchased their first laser machine and decided to make the offer. Since then they have been inundated with upwards of 800 messages—some of which are, admittedly, upsetting to hear. One that Cadeau brings up centres around a young woman whose social worker reached out to them. When the woman was a child her father held her down and “carved her” with a tattoo machine.

Another story was about a women that did some time a while back and was forced into a gang and came out with gang tattoos on her hand—something the woman now wants off as she’s out of prison.

The stories just keep coming in.

"There are more stories than I would like to admit of girls who basically were in an abusive relationship and their boyfriend or partner tattooed not just once or twice or three times but tattooed his name all over them so they couldn't leave,” said Cadeau. “Making it so nobody would ever want them because this person name was covering them."

Cadeau is also offering people with racist markings on their body redemption—a decision that has a personal element for her. She was born in South Africa at the tail end of apartheid and says her parents used to hold “very racist views.” When Cadeau immigrated to Canada with her family at age nine, she says her parents were exposed to diversity and over time changed their views.

"I think that is the situation for some many of these people, they get brought up in homes where they were indoctrinated into these beliefs or they get themselves into a relationship with someone they trust and that person influences you,” said Cadeau. “Now these people are coming in because they want to get rid of these tattoos, they want to show they're not these people, they want to be better people."

"How do you sit there and judge them for saying 'I was a crappy human, I'm now trying to be a better human?' They're willing to go through a decent amount of pain to get rid of something they previously got done. That's a pretty decent way of saying 'you know what, I was wrong.'"

Getting a tattoo removed via laser isn’t an easy, quick, nor cheap process. Cadeau’s husband Travis, who does most of the tattooing at the shop, said that it takes up to eight trips to remove just a small tattoo with their laser. The typical cost of removing a four by four inch black tattoo would be about $2,000.

An example of a tattoo being removed over time.

Now, the problem, Travis says, is figuring out logistics while balancing their charitable actions and profitable work. The challenge isn’t just deciding how to fit so many people in, but even deciding who goes first.

"We're just starting to scratch the surface of this Pandora's Box we opened up,” said Travis. “The response has been pretty daunting. This is something we definitely want to do but how we are still figuring out how we are going to make this work."

Despite all the hurdles, Memphis and Travis are both adamant it’s something they’re going to follow through with.

"There are a lot of people that have been going through horrible times and could really just use somebody saying, 'here's a little bit of a break, here is a fresh start,’” said Memphis. “People in the world overall just don't care about each other enough. The mentality of 'I can't do anything' needs to change."

Follow Mack Lamoureux on Twitter

“I feel like we’re in this beautiful moment where women are coming forward with their stories, being vulnerable and more accepted,” Erica Garza tells me. “I’m glad to be part of that, because so much of addiction is isolation, feeling all alone and feeling ashamed, like you’re more broken than anybody else.”

Garza’s own addiction was sex addiction, which led her to binge-watch porn and purposely seek out sexual relationships that made her feel shame. In her first book, a memoir entitled Getting Off: One Woman’s Journey Through Sex and Porn Addiction, Garza frankly and unflinchingly chronicles these experiences. In pursuit of sex, she writes, she often found herself destroying relationships with those who cared about her—not just romantic partners who actually treated her well, but friends, family, and even herself.

Since she was 12, she writes, she sought solace in masturbation as a coping mechanism, which made her feel shame. But that shame became addictive, a refuge first from the awkwardness of adolescence, then the uncertainty of young adulthood and the difficulty of life on her own. This lasted for nearly two decades before she initiated her recovery in hopes of becoming what she felt was a functional sexual person. She ultimately took steps to remove the self-imposed shame from her sexual experiences, to learn to accept herself as she was, and to cope with negativity without relying on sex or porn through therapy, yoga, treatment centers, Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous meetings, and more. That process, she says, is still ongoing.

Garza’s memoir is the rare sex addiction narrative from a female perspective, and a profoundly genuine, gripping story that any reader can appreciate. VICE spoke with Garza about the process behind writing Getting Off, sex addiction’s place in American culture, the path to recovery, and more.

Erica Garza alongside the cover of her new memoir, Getting Off: One Woman's Journey Through Sex and Porn Addiction

It seems our culture’s discussion of sex addiction still lags behind that of other forms of addiction, especially since there’s still debate among experts as to whether or not it actually exists. Why do you think that is?
I think one of the main reasons is that, and I actually agree with this to a certain extent, sex is a normal human behavior. When addiction comes into play, it’s like, ‘Well, no, this is normal, people should be having sex,’ and they don’t know what to do with it as far as treatment. It’s not like drugs and alcohol, where you can tell people to abstain completely. You don’t tell people to stop having sex as a form of treatment. I think that makes it a bit confusing, as far as treatment facilities and the medical community not knowing how to go about treatment. It’s different for every person. Where one might be acting out sexually, having lots of promiscuous sexual experiences, another may be addicted to porn and not have that problem with sex specifically. You would give those two different people separate treatments. And you have lots of people who bring up sex addiction as an excuse for other behavior, like maybe Harvey Weinstein or somebody like that. I think there’s fear that people use sex addiction to justify bad behavior when it might not actually be a real problem for them.

How do you think a book like Getting Off can change the state of sex addiction discourse?
I just wanted to talk about my own experience. One of my main reasons for writing the book was to understand my relationship to sex, to trace how I’d gotten to this point in my addiction, because I had been partaking in a lot of self-destructive behavior and I wanted to stop. And then when I started writing my first essays [for Salon], I received a lot of messages from people who had been going through this same thing: “I’m so glad you’re writing about this because I felt all alone in this,” or “I thought I was the only person experiencing these things,” and for so long that’s how I felt, too. I felt it was so necessary to put out my own stories so others felt less alone.

I don’t feel like there’s enough written about sex addiction, so I felt like it was really necessary to write about it. I’m human, so of course things come up like, oh, my parents are gonna read this, what will my husband think? What will my friends and my old colleagues think? But what’s more important and what comes up more often is that I’m contributing something to the conversation that didn’t exist before, at least not as much as other sorts of addiction memoirs. If I can offer something that will make another person who’s struggling feel peace of mind and less alone, then I’m doing something worthwhile and important.

Was there ever a point when writing the book felt especially difficult or even triggering?
It was more helpful than triggering, but it was a bit painful. Writing some of these things was not easy and a lot of it was admitting my own fault and participation in some of these negative experiences. It was a good way for me to see how often I had sabotaged myself and hurt other people along the way. I think it was a good way for me to have an easy-to-follow path that I could trace clearly on paper. That was a way to feel proud of myself, that I had come so far and made good choices along the way as well, even though they didn’t feel so good at the time.

Watch the Sex Pistols' Steve Jones discuss his views on sex:

What stage would you say you are in your addiction recovery?
I’m definitely more accepting of myself. I don’t binge on porn anymore, and that’s huge for me, because that was such a huge part of acting out, but I’m also not against looking at porn from time to time. When I first started writing about all this [in those early essays], I really wanted to get to a place where I just didn’t look at porn at all. I thought that’s what people in recovery did; I thought if I looked at porn then I was gonna go down this terrible path and be self-destructive all over again and lose control. I took a big break from [porn]. I think that’ll be different for every person who’s recovering, but for me having that break interrupted my patterns of wanting it so badly. When I turned back to it, I wasn’t susceptible to just falling back into it again and bingeing all over again and leaving my relationship. Being in a supportive relationship helped me to want to stay on a healthier path and a more loving path. Now we have a daughter and life looks very different for me than it used to.

It’s all about moderation, you know? That’s what I always wanted and I was unsure of how to get that. I don’t think that you have to cut off your sexuality completely. I like being a sexual person. I like being open-minded about my sexuality and being experimental. I just wanted to cut off the shame aspect of it. I think that was the most harmful and the most destructive part about my addiction, that I needed to feel bad. If I can continue looking at porn now from time to time and if my husband and I want to experiment sexually, that’s okay, but I don’t have to feel bad about it. It’s an ongoing process, and it’s not perfect even now—my brain has gone through wanting shame for such a long part of my life that of course it’s gonna come up from time to time—but what I have now that I didn’t have before was this ability to stop and think and make a choice for something else.

What do you think will help end the stigma that surrounds sex addiction, especially for women?
The more that people come forward about their stories, I feel like things will just naturally change. We do have a little bit of that happening. Jennifer Lewis from Black-ish came forward recently about her sex addiction. I saw it in a lot of different places because it takes people off guard when they hear a woman talking about sex addiction. It’s when women come forward with their stories and say it’s not so rare or taboo to experience this that things can change; so often what women write to me about their sex addiction is the same as what men are saying. Isolation is an incredibly damaging thing.

Interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.

Follow Elyssa Goodman on Twitter.

Last week, former Community writer Megan Ganz accused showrunner Dan Harmon of mistreating her during her time working on the show, leading to a cryptic, public exchange on Twitter in which Harmon admitted to treating her "like garbage." On Wednesday, the Rick and Morty creator offered a clearer picture of what happened on his podcast Harmontown.

"The most clinical way I can put it in fessing up to my crimes is that I was attracted to a writer I had power over because I was a show runner," Harmon began at around the 20-minute mark. "And I knew enough to know that these feelings were bad news."

Though he didn't mention Ganz by name, Harmon admitted pursuing a female employee while showrunner at Community, being "flirty" and "creepy" toward her at a time when he was living with his girlfriend. After the two broke up, he revealed his feelings to the writer, only to be turned down. That's when, Harmon said, he "treated her cruelly."

"I'm going to assume when she tweets about it and refers to 'trauma' that’s probably it," he said. "I crushed on her and resented her for not reciprocating it, and the entire time I was the one writing her paychecks and in control of whether she stayed or went and whether she felt good about herself or not, and said horrible things... things I never, ever would have done if she had been male and if I had never had those feelings for her."

Ultimately, Ganz left Community, and Harmon was fired as its showrunner. She went on to write for Modern Family and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia; he went on to create Rick and Morty. On Thursday, she posted a link to the latest episode of Harmontown on Twitter, asking people to tune in.

"What I didn't expect was the relief I'd feel just hearing him say these things actually happened," Ganz wrote. "I didn’t dream it. I’m not crazy. Ironic that the only person who could give me that comfort is the one person I’d never ask."

During their back-and-forth on Twitter last week, Ganz told Harmon she wasn't ready to forgive him. Listening to his apology, she said, she had a change of heart.

Follow Drew Schwartz on Twitter.

With the waking nightmare that is holiday travel now behind us, we thought we'd check in with the unsung heroes of the season, the humble flight attendant. They kept our drinks full and seats upright as we rocketed ourselves to relatives in influenza-filled metal tubes. But what goes on behind that thin galley curtain once all the dinners have been served?

We spoke with "Betty," an attendant working for a major American airline. She asked to stay anonymous so as to avoid getting fired. She explained that the life of a modern flight attendant is far from the glitz and glamor of the airlines' golden age, though it does still contain a fair bit of sex, drugs, and booze. More importantly, however, she spilled the beans on how to cop those free seat upgrades.

This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

VICE: Having to turn off your cell phone is just a bullshit control thing, right? Are there any other placebo or performative commands or warnings?
Betty: Nobody turns off their phones. I don’t, even. All of those commands are really just precautionary. You’re not allowed to get up when taxiing to the gate, but we’re going three miles an hour. What’s actually going to happen?

I guess at some point, something had to have happened for them to have made the rule. At least, that’s the bullshit excuse they gave us during training. Some time at some point someone did get hurt. I mean, I push it. I don’t always wear my seatbelt. Actually, one time I didn’t wear it, the landing was pretty rough and I jerked forward and hit my head so I felt like a bit of an asshole there.

Yeah, but keep your phone on. No one cares.

What's the best way to get away with joining the mile-high club? Has a passenger ever propositioned you?
Wait for service, when the attendants are all in the aisle. Everyone’s busy and has a job at that point and I don’t care what’s going on behind me then. There could be ten people in the bathroom and I wouldn’t be aware of it.

On the bigger double-decker planes they have flight attendants whose entire job it is to sit at that bottom bathroom and make sure no couples are going into it. But on smaller planes, for shorter flights, the attendants aren’t watching you like you think we are. We’re on our phones in the back with the others or doing our jobs. We don’t want to be near that bathroom at any point in time and we’ll avoid it at all costs. God speed if you’re gonna try and have sex in one. They’re disgusting and small, but it is possible.

The people who are propositioning me… hard pass on everyone so far. It doesn’t happen as often as you might think. I’ve only really been propositioned three times in the two years I’ve been here. They dance around it, though. It’s more like people get nervous and do the “ha ha so how many times have you been asked” type of deal. “What do you say when they ask you? What would you do if I asked?"

How do you fuck with or get revenge on annoying passengers?
Usually, I spend the majority of my time just ignoring them. You don’t really have much to work with so it becomes a power play. I try to assert myself as much as possible and let them know I’m the boss by not giving them their orange juice with ice or giving it to them with ice if they asked for no ice. Weak pours for drinks, stuff like that. Anything I can do to stick in their craw without it being obvious because, unfortunately, I have to smile and do my best to not look upset, no matter what the case is.

What are the most common annoying things passengers do and is there any sort of industry-wide jargon or slang for referring to them or the situations they might create?
It’s crazy how dirty people are on planes. They aren’t aware they’re in a public space and there’re other people around them. Those bathrooms are the most disgusting places on the planet. There’s no way these people act this way in their normal lives, but they get on a plane and go cool, I’ll just pee all over the floor and dump my peanuts right on the ground.

We don’t really have code names or anything. Actually, it’s almost the opposite. We’re pretty blatant. I sometimes worry about how openly we talk about passengers when we’re in my galley and they’re only three feet away. Some of our flight attendants are uncomfortably loud and I have to peer out and make sure the person's not aware we’re talking about them.

Besides the bathrooms, what's the grossest thing on planes that we don’t hear about?
Coffee. Don’t drink the coffee on airplanes. It’s the same potable water that goes through the bathroom system.

We recently had a test for E. coli in our water and it didn’t pass, and then maintenance came on and hit a couple buttons and it passed. So, avoid any hot water or tea. Bottled and ice is fine, of course.

What's the best way to get a free seat upgrade or finagle other freebies and perks from you guys?
Wait until you’re on the plane because gate agents don’t care. But once you’re on and that door is closed, make sure you have something to give your flight attendants. We’re bargainers. Give me candy and I’ll give you whatever you want. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. We don’t keep count of those mini bottles of alcohol. If there’re seats open in business class, and it’s not going to affect me negatively, or there are first class seats open and I can still eat my first class meal if I put you up there, I’ll put you up there. As long as you’re nice to me, no problem.

That’s me, though. There are some attendants who get off on the power trip of saying no. But if you’ve got bargaining chips, usually in the form of candy or Starbucks gift cards, you’re pretty much set.

Or, you can lie and say you work for the airline. If they think you’re in the biz, they might hook you up.

How do you kill time during the boring and quiet stretches of long flights?
I play “who I would save first” a lot. Like in the instance of an emergency landing. Obviously get the kids off first and all that. But it really does get boring up there. You spend a lot of time daydreaming, a lot of time staring at your passengers and mentally putting them in situations with you that would never happen.

If I find a passenger attractive, I’ll offer them free drinks and try to get them drunk and flirt. You’ve got four or five hours to kill and you’re probably never going to see them again. Unless they find you on the internet, which does sometimes happen.

Can you tell when passengers are high on something or smuggling/using drugs on the plane? Do you ever partake yourself or sneak drinks on the job?
I actually had a passenger check on his coke prior to take off. I happened to glance down as he pulled out this this little paper of what I assumed was coke. I mean, I didn’t pull my finger out and rub it on my gums to test, but he did, so I assumed it wasn’t anthrax. But there were other people around him, so I had to call the captain just to let him know what was up, in case anyone else brought it up, really just to cover my own ass. I had to. But I tell the captain as we’re taxiing and he just says “we’re not getting delayed for coke,” and takes off.

But for other stuff, nobody’s good at hiding when they’re on pills or fucked up.

And I NEVER participate in any of that or drink on the job. But my cabinets are filled with miniature versions of bottles. Any industry person, if you check their cabinets or carry-on bags, you’ll find they’re littered with those.

What’s the worst part of the job? Does the corporate side suck?
It’s not nearly as glamorous as people let on but you figure that out pretty quickly. The worst part is really the pay, especially at the beginning. And if you have to move to fly for the company you’re flying for, you could be living in a crash pad with six or seven people in bunk beds. And a lot of those people are 30 or 40 years old and have to do that just to get by, so that’s kind of a bummer.

Management’s not great but it’s so separate because you’re not seeing those people every day. So the only time you’re seeing them is when you’re having your review or something comes up that they need to speak with you about so they kinda get a bad rap.

Any celeb anecdotes?
I had a pretty famous rapper who got overly intoxicated before we even took off and couldn’t even buckle his own seatbelt and had passed out and slumped over his seat so I had to pick him up and buckle him in.

Follow Justin Caffier on Twitter.

A new report from the Washington Post confirms something we already know about Trump—he is an asshole. From the Post:

President Trump grew frustrated with lawmakers Thursday in the Oval Office when they floated restoring protections for immigrants from Haiti, El Salvador and African countries as part of a bipartisan immigration deal, according to two people briefed on the meeting.

“Why are we having all these people from shithole countries come here?” Trump said, according to these people, referring to African countries and Haiti. He then suggested that the United States should instead bring more people from countries like Norway, whose prime minister he met Wednesday.

White House spokesman Raj Shah did not deny that Trump said this. Instead, he pivoted to talking about how great the president was. “Certain Washington politicians choose to fight for foreign countries, but President Trump will always fight for the American people,” Shah said in a statement.

Trump was immediately condemned all over social media and cable news for his "shithole" remark, of course, but we already knew what the president has in his head. This is a guy who started his presidential campaign calling Mexican "rapists," implied a judge was treating him "unfairly" because the judge "is of Mexican heritage," and rose to fame in the political world by leading the racist birther movement against Barack Obama. This is a man who has insisted that the Central Park Five—a group of black and Latino teenagers wrongfully convicted of raping a woman in 1989—were guilty, even though DNA evidence exonerated them. Going further back, his real estate company was accused of racist practices decades ago.

It's not like the White House is changing Trump. Three weeks ago, the New York Times reported that the president said that Haitian immigrants “all have AIDS” in the same meeting where he supposedly said that Nigerians live in "huts." The "shithole" remark might have shocked people, but it didn't surprise anyone who has been paying attention.

I don't know what else to say—just, Christ, Trump is an asshole.

Follow Eve Peyser on Twitter.

This article was published in collaboration with the Marshall Project.

The female robot voice recording begins:

“Press one for English. Para Español oprima el dos.”

While pressing one, I notice two guys—from a different housing unit—walking into our cell block. Both are young white men covered in tattoos, one with scraggly red hair and two-day-old whiskers, the other a clean-shaven blond. Suspiciously, they are wearing winter coats during the hottest stretch of summer.

When I make this call, Oregon is in a state of emergency. It’s been 49 days without rain, and over half a million acres of forest are burning. The nearest inferno is 59.8 miles away and has turned Salem’s air quality hazardous, while depositing ash on all our window bars.

It’s hot as hell and they are wearing heavy coats. This alarms me.

Thick denim with textbook-sized pockets can hide weapons. Meanwhile, prisoners caught in unauthorized areas, as these two are now, can face solitary confinement. So they are here for a reason.

I scan the vicinity, accounting for friendlies and hostiles.

After 23 years of incarceration, I’m accustomed to being on high alert. Prison is always violent, always difficult. It’s true that the Oregon State Penitentiary itself is relatively safe and progressive compared to the many of the nation’s correctional facilities, yet violence is still inherent to its structure. Any variable—mental illness, addiction, other dysfunction—can ignite chaos affecting every aspect of a prisoner’s life. Conflict can erupt at any moment, with consequences ranging from solitary confinement to loss of life. And the problem doesn’t have to be the prisoner’s own to cause suffering back home.

Having navigated this volatility for so long, I am adept at identifying pending bedlam and moving away from it in advance. Today, however, I am not moving: I'm determined to make this call regardless of hazard.

“Please be informed that your continued use of Telmate’s products and services shall constitute acceptance of Telmate’s terms of use and privacy statement, which are available…”

Telmate is Oregon’s sole provider of prisoner telephone services at $.16 a minute. The robot lady provides no instructions as to how to access and accept the terms, but since my only other option is to just not call home, I blindly agree.

The two guys look around sinisterly. One watches the officer who just began a tier walk to visually check all 50 cells in the two-story building. He will be gone for awhile, so now is the time for them to strike.

Adrenaline pumps into my body as war-zone butterflies flutter in my stomach. I taste my saliva as my pulse increases. I prepare for fight or flight.

“Please enter your pin code followed by the pound key.”

I hurriedly enter my 14-digit pin, hoping the impending trouble doesn’t spill across racial lines (I’m mixed race and identify as black). I mentally will the robot lady to speak faster, because incidents inevitably prompt lockdowns.

“Press eight for the inspector general.”

The blond guy watches the officer walk farther away and then gives the redhead a go-ahead nod.

“Press nine for the Prison Rape Elimination Act hotline.”

Red-hair plunges his hand into his pocket and darts into the cell blocks’ general-purpose room, where prisoners exercise on pull-up bars, do sit-ups and watch sports on TV while drinking 16-ounce sodas at $1.85 a pop. This unit is the only one in the entire prison that has a Coke machine.

“Go get a wheelchair, we got a man down!” the officer suddenly screams into his radio from the top tier.

Confused and disoriented, I wonder how the man down is connected to the out-of-area white dudes and their mission. Quickly glancing in their direction, I see that they too have paused to calculate the commotion.

“Please enter the area code and the phone number you want to call, or for international calls dial 011, the country code and the number.”

Punching in my numbers quickly, I know it won’t be long before security staff and medical nurses swarm to the officer’s summon. All I want to do is complete this call. Earlier, my wife sent me a message on a Telmate tablet (which costs a nickel per minute to use) which read: “Call when you can, we heard back from the editor.”

“Please say your full name and the facility at the beep and then press pound.”

“Sterling Cunio, Oregon State Penitentiary.”

“Sorry, voice not recognized.”

Officers and nurses pour into the unit.

“Please say your full name and the facility at the beep and then press pound.”

“Sterling Cunio, Oregon State Penitentiary.”

“Sorry, voice not recognized.”

After the staff goes running past me toward the medical emergency, the two guys begin moving again.

“Please say your full name and the facility at the beep and then press pound.”

“Sterling Cunio, Oregon State Penitentiary!”

“Sorry voice not recognized. You have no access to this phone.”

Dial tone.

In my experience, the voice recognition software works, on average, one out of every five attempts I make to use it. Since the entire recorded process takes one minute and 37 seconds, I am fearful there won’t be enough time before the mayhem around me becomes a lockdown. Hanging up the phone to reset it, I pick it back up and hastily dial again.

Finally, I see that the medical emergency involves a 58-year-old named Dave who is a tutor in the education department. I see him flopping around on the tier, having a seizure. Nurses attempt to stabilize him while the officers strap him to a gurney in preparation for the rush to an ambulance. His friends and a few random gawkers have gathered outside the general-purpose room’s door.

“Press one for English. Para Español oprima el dos.”

Writers, lawyers, professors, and criminal justice reform activists have encouraged me to submit my writings to The Marshall Project and Vice’s “Life Inside” feature. So I sent a story about the prison wedding of my friend Michael, who in his late 40s was dying in the hospice area. He was remarrying his first wife on the same day that another of my buddies, Arnold, was getting released, after 17 years of incarceration.

The story attempted to braid the two narratives—intersecting hardships, as is common inside, along with intersecting chaos, which was unfolding before me now. My theme in that earlier story was how the pain of never seeing a friend again is only overcome by the joy of seeing one regain liberty.

“Please be informed that your continued use of Telmate’s products and services shall constitute acceptance of Telmate’s terms of use and privacy statement which are available ...”

The white guys are sliding their way through the crowd in their commitment to their still-unknown mission. Dave has been strapped on the gurney and is being hauled down the steps; he’s no longer moving.

“Please say your full name and the facility at the beep and then press pound.”

“Sterling Cunio, Oregon State Penitentiary.”

“Thank you for using Telmate.”

“Hey, we heard from the editor,” says Cheryl, my wife of 14 years.

“Yo, what did he say?” I ask in excitement, my eyes darting between environmental threats.

“He says it needs to be more narrow. It’s too many threads for Life Inside.”

Dave’s feet disappear through the door.

"Too much, what the fuck!" Now I’m thinking how to tell Michael the story isn’t going to be published.

“Are you going to write another piece? Maybe just focus in on something simpler...?”

“I wish anything around here was simple. I’ll call you later.”

As soon as the gurney passes by, the redhead makes his move, sprinting across the floor while pulling out three soda coupons and jamming them into the Coke machine. Shoving three cold drinks into his coat pockets, he slips out the door with his accomplice, back to the housing area they came from. Their mission is complete.

Glancing at the clock, I hang up the phone.

It’s been 12 minutes.

Sterling R. Cunio, 40, is incarcerated at Oregon State Penitentiary in Salem, Oregon. He was convicted of double aggravated murder, kidnapping and robbery for his role in a carjacking committed when he was 16. His earliest release date is 2066.

A show for people who’ve already finished Mindhunter

Manhunt: Unabomber. Credit: Netflix

What am I searching for? Manhunt: Unabomber
What’s that then? Anyone who enjoyed David Fincher’s killer serial-killer serial Mindhunter, I highly recommend the markedly similar and admittedly worse Manhunt: Unabomber. Like Mindhunter, it’s on Netflix, having presumably been acquired by the platform in a desperate attempt to plug the gap while Fincher works on season two. Unlike Mindhunter, it has absolutely no qualms about the inherent ghoulishness of its offering, and cuts down on scenes of anguished moral wrangling. Also, Paul Bettany looks great with a beard!

Where can I watch it? Netflix

Charlie Lyne

Basically Entourage but French and not shit

Call My Agent. Credit: Netflix

What am I searching for? Call My Agent
What’s that then? A friend who makes good TV recommendations told me: “It’s trashy, but it’s fine because it’s in French”. Trashy TV is how I like my TV and the fact that everyone is speaking in cool accents won me over. This well-written and comedy drama set around a stressful French film agency follows the agents as they struggle to keep the business afloat after the agency’s owner dies. I’m completely obsessed with one of the leads, Andréa – a cool, sex-loving, commitment lesbian who is storms around in skinny jeans and loose silk shirts chain-smoking cigarettes, snogging women, breaking metaphorical balls and sorting other people's messes out.
Where can I watch it? Netflix

Hannah Ewens

The actual best show on TV

Mr Robot. Credit: Amazon

What am I searching for? Mr Robot
What’s that then? Mr Robot is smarter and weirder than any TV show out there right now. It makes Black Mirror look like daytime children's TV. It's been vaguely described as a techno-dystopian show set in an alternate future about hackers, but it's also so much more than that. You want a scathing dissection of the tech industry and corporate gender politics? You got it. Deep state-type espionage? Cryptocurrency hijinks? David Lynch-type surrealism with cigar-chomping assassins and masked gunmen? More twists than Kurtz going down the river in 'Nam? Go on then. Please, I beg you, watch this show because I will literally cry if it gets cancelled.
Where can I watch it? Amazon

Zing Tsjeng

The story of Grenfell told by the people who lived there

What am I searching for? Failed By the State: The Struggle in the Shadow of Grenfell
What’s that then? While the enormity of the disaster at Grenfell Tower was difficult to understand, it also exposed a bewildering media landscape: a broken established media that had lost the trust of the community in North Kensington and the wider public, and an insurgent alternative media that is, at its worst, only "alternative" in so far as will blithely promote alternative facts.

Through this disheartening fog shines Failed By the State: The Struggle in the Shadow of Grenfell. Presented by a local resident born in Grenfell Tower, who lived there for 25 years, it’s an amateur antidote to clickbait news companies and a shrill social media cycle.

It sets the tone by telling viewers, “You won’t see any shots of the fateful night in this film. We never want to see that again.” Instead, you see local residents speaking their minds candidly, council officials being made to sweat under tough questioning, and radical political propositions juxtaposed to state condescension. Watching it is one of the best ways to understand the most significant story in years.
Where can I watch it? YouTube

Simon Childs

The First Horny Pope

Jude Law in The Young Pop. Credit: Sky/Now TV

What am I searching for? The Young Pope
Oh yeah heard of that. I know it was fairly celebrated at the time via episode recaps on Vulture, essays in The New Yorker and many, many Brandon Wardell tweets asking "what if the pope blasted cigs", but I feel like The Young Pope really didn't get that much love in the UK. If you have ten hours to spare this Christmas, I would highly recommend using them to watch this visually stunning, psychologically powerful spectacle of a TV show starring Jude Law as the Vatican's first American (and most horny) Pope who loves Cherry Coke Zero and does a 'getting dressed' montage to LMFAO's "Sexy And I Know It".
Where can I watch it? Sky/NowTV

Emma Garland

Honestly the new season of South Park

South Park

What am I searching for? South Park, season 21
What is this, 1999? Anyone who thinks South Park is an adolescent cartoon from the late 90s that can't possibly still be relevant is just a person that hasn't watched much South Park recently. Matt and Trey remain the greatest satirists of the modern age. It's true that season 20 was overambitious and the first episode of this season seemed like it was heading in the same direction, but then they really turn it around. The show's takes on Weinstein, the opiod epidemic, the rise of Netflix and, of course, Trump are funnier and sharper than anything you have heard delivered by a bloke behind a desk on a late night show.
Where can I watch it? Comedy Central, Sky

Sam Wolfson

Just watch Matty Matheson really really enthusiastically cooking shit

What I’m searching for? You don’t need to we’ve just embedded it above.
Ok but what is it? Listen I don’t want to be "a company man" about it – I mean, as a writer, I am pre-ordained to consider the entire video production side of this company to be some sort of elaborate and many-armed enemy of mine, the constant looming threat of the pivot, that so inevitably one day someone will softly come over to my desk, sitting gently on the side of it, just enough weight that my laptop starts leaning over to one side, and they gently tilt the lid of it until it’s closed, and go, “Shh,” and go, “stop writing. Only nerds read. Just say this overlong shit you do in front of a camera, instead.” For that reason I fear them – but I have found lately that I very much enjoy watching Matty Matheson really cheerfully cooking shit over on MUNCHIES. You ever watched this stuff? It’s amazing: he’s really funny, very relaxed, says “fuck” so much, just so so much, and also he really likes deep frying things. Watching people cook at Christmas – in real life, in the flesh, your mum sweating a party hat to her head until it goes see-thru while your dad, deranged, peels gallons of vegetables in front of the TV – is actually a very high-stress thing to do. Go upstairs, man. Sit cross-legged on your old childhood bed with the laptop. Watch this guy soak a chicken in pickle juice overnight. It’s good.

Joel Golby

This article originally appeared on VICE Greece

"I'm assigning you to the blood tests unit, because you seem smart," said the HR Director, calling for one of his staff to get me for my induction. Shortly after, a short-haired redhead wearing black-and-white horn-rimmed glasses and bright red lipstick came to greet me, and led me to the desk from where I would begin my two-year nursing internship.

I must have been around 21 when my university's internship programme gave me the option to work at one of the biggest public hospitals in Athens. I wasn’t too thrilled with the choice, but it was a paid position, which meant I could give up my job as a cafe waitress. And so, on a rainy October morning, I walked through the hospital gates, pushed the heavy wooden door open and got a first whiff of the sterile public healthcare system.

Very soon, I realised a hospital is the worst place to work. It's a chamber of endless pain that smells of death, coffee and antiseptic, where you have to face the best and worst aspects of humanity on a daily basis. It's been about nine years since then, but I'll never forget the morning I saw a woman sitting on the steps that led to the small hospital courtyard. She had a stunned expression on her face and a tissue in her hand. Her young children were frolicking around her, asking for biscuits and juice.

As I passed by, I overheard her bluntly repeating, "Kids, listen to me, dad is dead." I felt she was really trying to impress the concept of death on them, to make them realise they would never again see a man who – just a few hours ago – had been standing among them. I'd never had a more shocking second-hand experience, so I began to walk faster.

As it turned out, every day at the hospital was more of the same. People shouting that they were in pain, people crying in waiting rooms, people carrying bags full of medical documents in endless queues, people talking to relatives on their cellphones. And coffee. An endless stream of coffee.

When I started working there, I was bothered by all the tragic stories, symptoms and diseases surrounding me, to the point that I became a hypochondriac. Every 15 days I made a nurse run a general blood test to make sure I was healthy. In the three months that I worked in that department, I don’t know how many doctors I consulted to reassure myself that I didn’t suffer from some sort of incurable disease.

At the end of those three months I was transferred to another department because I was causing problems for my supervisor. The main issue was that I didn’t stick to the timetable she’d set for patients. For example, she had stuck up a note saying that test results would be declared to patients after 12PM – something I thought was amusing, since we were often given the results earlier and had plenty of time to pass them on before midday. Unlike the overworked but always smiling departmental nurse, our supervisor took her daily morning break between 11 to 12, which meant she was out of the office for a full hour, "for my coffee and a sandwich". I had nothing to do, so every time someone asked for their results I'd just give them. She caught me in the act a couple of times and my tenure in the blood work unit came to an end.

I was transferred to the hospital’s Department of Urology. Four residents worked there, along with three auxiliary nurses and three directors, of which one was purely decorative; he just sat around, waiting to retire. The doctors' office was a very small room on the second floor, furnished with four tiny desks and a few chairs.

My job was to write up the admissions and discharges of patients, seal patient results or retrieve records from the hospital files when needed. I also had to set the surgery schedule and give secretarial support. Overall, it was the perfect job: I had all the time in the world to drink coffee and talk to my friends on Facebook.

Although, at the beginning, I resented it a little because I had to be in a tiny room with ten others, very soon we got used to each other. Doctors are a strange sort; they can be saint-like and evil, paranoid and rational, calm and hysterical, all at the same time.

One day, the manager turned to me and said: "It's almost time for our bonus." He then explained that, three years ago, he'd operated on a patient with prostate cancer. Since then, even though the patient was totally healthy, he’d been getting him to do a specific test every two months at the cost of €200 (£176). This sort of stuff would happen openly in most clinics. It wasn’t the first, nor the last, time I saw a doctor be bribed or shamelessly lie to a patient like that.

The time I spent there was a life lesson, since Greek hospitals are places of more intrigue and drama than every season of House of Cards and Grey's Anatomy squished together. That's where I learned, for example, that giving money to a doctor before surgery is considered "corruption", but after surgery it's a "thank you present". I learned that the money is not given for the procedure – the doctor is obliged to carry that out. The money is supposedly given for the post-operative care, which they are also entitled to. The doctors were obviously aware of all this, but they'd create the illusion that a bribe was necessary for a patient's care. Some would flat out set a price, others were more discrete.

WATCH:

Sometimes I think this whole process – which is endemic in the Greek healthcare system – has caused patients to suffer from something resembling Stockholm Syndrome. The best example of this mentality I can recall is the time a cancer patient insisted on giving me €20 (£18) "to go buy yourself a cup of coffee". What he actually needed me to do was verify his disability certificate, which I couldn't do without a doctor's signature. These certificates were given every Wednesday because that’s when the doctors had time. The patient came to me on a Tuesday.

All I had to do was simply retrieve his file, photocopy the old certificate and pass it on to the responsible doctor who wrote out the diagnosis on the basis of the tests. I told him that, from my end, I’d do what I could and he’d have to wait until the doctor came out of surgery. I awkwardly refused the money by telling him I don’t drink coffee.

Then there were the pharmacy reps. Every morning outside the doctors' offices, along with the patients there would be three or four suited men and women waiting. I don’t know if the symbiotic relationship between doctors and pharmaceutical companies has stopped now, but at least when I worked there the privileges promised by the drug reps were scandalous. Dinners at the Hilton, feasts in tavernas, travel expenses for conferences and all sorts of gifts – from books to watches, every doctor, depending on their seniority, could ask for anything in return for prescribing patients specific drugs. I even got gifts, although I couldn't write prescriptions.

Of course, there were also doctors who were the polar opposite of the above. Those who had a hard time telling patients and their relatives that something was wrong with their health. Those who gave up their personal time for extra shifts in a thankless environment. People who would miss their children's birthdays to deal with an emergency.

They walked around looking pale, with dark circles under their eyes, and when patients gave them gifts they shared them with the nurses and the rest of the staff. When asked, "Doctor, what do I owe you?" they'd reply: "Just take care of yourself," and give free drugs to those without insurance.

Of course doctors should be paid well for their work. But to get to that point, the change must first come from those of us who need them, the patients. We need to shake off the illusion that this is the only way our society can operate, just because we grew up within that system. Then, the rest will have no other options but follow.

Everything you need to know about the world this morning, curated by VICE.

US News

‘Shithole Countries’ Raises Bar for Racism from Trump
In a discussion with lawmakers at the White House about protections for immigrants from Haiti, El Salvador, and African nations, President Trump reportedly asked: “Why are we having all these people from shithole countries come here?” According to those present, Trump said he would prefer immigrants from countries like Norway. Despite widespread outrage about Trump’s apparent preference for white immigrants, few Republican lawmakers condemned his remarks. Rep. Tim Walz of Minnesota did say: “This is racism, plain and simple, and we need to call it that.”—VICE News / Washington Post

Trump Cancels Visit to the UK
The president claimed on Twitter he had canceled a trip to one of America's closest allies because the US embassy in London had been relocated. Trump blamed Obama for selling the old embassy for “peanuts,” despite the fact that the decision to move was made during George W. Bush’s presidency. Mayor of London Sadiq Khan claimed Trump had “got the message” his visit would be met with mass protests.—VICE News

White House Expected to Stand by Iran Nuclear Deal
President Trump was expected to let stand the landmark 2015 agreement with Iran to halt its nuclear program, declining to reintroduce US sanctions, according to two sources. However, Trump was reportedly set to instead impose new, personal sanctions on Iranian officials over alleged corruption and human rights violations.—The New York Times

International News

Myanmar Admits Soldiers Killed Just Ten Rohingya
Myanmar’s military chief Min Aung Hlaing said his soldiers were involved in the killing of ten Rohingya Muslims in Inn Din after their remains were found in a mass grave outside the village. James Gomez, the regional director for Amnesty International, described the deaths as “beyond comprehension” and called for a “serious independent investigation into what other atrocities were committed.”—Al Jazeera

Angel Merkel Moves Toward Forming Government
The German chancellor and her Christian Social Union and Christian Democratic Union (CSU and CDU) colleagues have agreed to a preliminary deal with the Social Democrats (SPD) to form a coalition government after September’s election results failed to net a clear winner. A 28-page policy document will act as an outline for formal negotiations.—Reuters

Wrecked Oil Tanker Moves into Japanese Waters
An Iranian tanker, still on fire almost a week after crashing into another ship off the coast of China, has floated into Japan’s exclusive economic zone (EEZ) thanks in part to strong winds. The vessel held nearly a million barrels of crude oil.—Reuters

Everything Else

Motörhead Guitarist Dies at 67
The death of “Fast” Eddie Clarke, the last member of the legendary British metal band’s signature lineup, was announced on the group's Facebook page. The feed stated: “Keep roaring, rockin’ and rollin’ up there… your Motörfamily would expect nothing less!!!”—Noisey

Jay Rock Releases ‘Black Panther’ Track
The rapper dropped “King’s Dead” on Thursday, his collaboration with Future, Kendrick Lamar, and James Blake for the Marvel movie’s official soundtrack. The song will also appear on Jay Rock’s forthcoming album.—Billboard

David Simon Examining James Franco Allegations
The co-creator of HBO’s The Deuce said he was “trying to discern what is or isn’t there” regarding allegations made against one of his show’s leading actors and sometimes director. Five women came forward to accuse Franco of sexual misconduct in a story published by the LA Times.—The Hollywood Reporter

Taylor Swift Drops New Video
The pop star released a video for her new single “End Game” off Reputation, featuring Future and Ed Sheeran. The rapper parties with Swift on a yacht in Miami and the British songwriter drinks with her in Tokyo.—Rolling Stone

Vast Majority of Americans Do Not Want Federal Crackdown on Weed
The latest Quinnipiac University poll showed 70 percent of voters opposed Attorney General Jeff Sessions's efforts to impose federal marijuana laws on states that have made the drug legal. “The demographics say pot is here to stay,” said Quinnipiac’s Tim Malloy.—VICE

Carrie Brownstein Memoir to Become a TV Show
The Sleater-Kinney guitarist and Portlandia star is developing a new show based on her autobiographical book Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl. The new series, entitled Search and Destroy, will be made for Hulu.—i-D

Make sure to check out the latest episode of VICE's daily podcast. Today we’re taking a look at what could be the first ever male sex robot, set to debut this year.

This week, Canadians have seen the story of Abdoul Kadir Abdi, a Halifax raised, Somali man who faces deportation to Somalia due to his criminal record.

The first thing we need to acknowledge is that Abdi’s story is a Canadian one. Through it, we have witnessed anti-Blackness inherent in the workings of three intertwining systems: criminal justice, immigration and child welfare. For people living, working or working with Canadians on the margins of society, this intersection is not new. For many others, it is difficult to understand the role the state can play in policing every aspect of a person’s life.

Even those who admit to the failure of the systems at play here have called this a case study or opportunity for a policy shift. What these perspectives forget is twofold: Abdoul is not an example, he is a living person that we can help immediately. Also, we do not need any more opportunities or examples. Treating this case like an opportunity only pushes us, and the government to do less. Moreover, we have information, data, and statistics on the multiple ways Canada has historically harmed, discriminated against and impeded the progress of Black people.

Canada’s relationship with Somalia is as well documented as it is fraught. The civil war and discord in Somalia that brought Abdoul Abdi and his family to Canada is a story that thousands of Somali Canadians share. We cannot ignore the legacy and implications of colonialism that inform Somalia’s state globally, especially the ways in which Somali people migrate and seek refuge in countries like Canada. Even as Canada has been a home for Somali people, anti-Blackness has often defined much of the relationship, as evidenced by Abdi’s story.

Abdoul’s apprehension from his aunt’s home to a child welfare system that has been documented as culturally incompetent and punitive is the story of thousands of Black and Indigenous children in Canada. More shocking than Abdoul’s aunt telling Desmond Cole last Sunday she did not understand why he was apprehended from her in the first place and his shifting through 31 homes throughout his childhood and youth, is the fact that none of the child welfare agents responsible for his well-being pursued the process of Abdoul becoming a Canadian citizen. The continued shortcomings of child welfare service to non-white children has brought us here. Our Prime Minister recently told Abdoul’s sister that the care system had failed him. But rather than see this as a system that has failed Abdoul, we have to see it as one that was built to do exactly that.

Justin Trudeau’s appointment of Ahmed Hussen as Minister of Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship was lauded for a number of reasons. Not only was Hussen a seasoned politician and Somali refugee, but his story had the makings of a liberal Canadian dream, and upheld Canada as a safe and welcoming haven. Hussen has himself highlighted this narrative—particularity when he is relating to Black and Somali constituents. Last month, at the National Black Canadian Summit in Toronto, activists pressed Hussen on Abdoul Abdi’s case specifically, asking that Abdoul receive a warning letter instead of facing deportation, only to be met with deflection. Similarly, during his comments on Abdi, Prime Minister Trudeau invoked Hussen’s success story to frame Canada as a place of safe refuge, strength and growth.

In Canada, we need to focus on, amplify and assist the vulnerable, meaning the Abdoul Kadir Abdis, not the present-day Ahmed Hussens. Instead of highlighting success stories like Minister Hussen as the standard, we have to look at the ways Canada can effectively render stateless individuals fleeing violence as stateless again, not belonging, but being controlled by the state. Yesterday, the Canadian Civil Liberties Association (CCLA) implored Hussen and Ralph Goodale, Minister of Public Safety and Emergency Preparedness, to end any admissibility or deportations against Abdoul Abdi, and to order the granting of his citizenship.

The way the Canadian press has depicted Somalis has been largely negative, from the infamous Project Traveller raids to last year’s Dixon documentary. While our media landscape has been long known to lack an equity lens that fails to tell stories that present Black Canadians in a positive light, Somali Canadians have additional stereotypes to fight. Canadian media is beginning to catch up to the tireless work of anti-racist activists and include stories and a vocabulary that is inclusive and intersectional. A broad understanding and working knowledge of intersectionality would equip our government, state agents, and general public with the tools to address multiple and compounding issues that Canadians face.

I asked Abdoul Abdi’s lawyer, Benjamin Perryman, if Canadians are understanding the intersections of the systems at play that have led to Abdi’s circumstances:

“No. Most politicians themselves don’t understand those interconnections, let alone the general public. This starts right at the beginning—the Nova Scotia Department of Community Services had no policies in place for non-citizen children in care.” Echoing the sentiments of anti-racism advocates in Canada, he stresses the importance of tracking data to address the issue. Perryman is unsure if Nova Scotia even tracks and collects information pertaining to child welfare agencies, non-Canadian children and decisions pertaining to their immigration status. He highlights Ontario’s extensive data that acknowledges racism and prejudice toward Black and Indigenous children in the child welfare system alongside Canada’s undisputed racism and prejudice problem in the criminal justice system where Black and Indigenous people are more likely to be arrested, charged and incarcerated. “Those two problems of prejudice join when a person does not have citizenship and makes certain people more at risk of being deported than others.”

If we ever hope to become the country Prime Minister Trudeau insists we are, we can start by saving Abdoul Abdi from deportation and admitting the systemic, multiple failures at play are indeed Canadian in nature.

Melayna Williams holds a J.D., and is the director of the Rights Advocacy Coalition for Equality (R.A.C.E.). Follow her on Twitter.

Looking for some stuff to catch up on this weekend? Whether it's TV, movies, books, or anything in between—VICE has you covered. Read on for our staff recommendations on what to take in during your downtime:

The End of the F***ing World

Remember late last year, when with every passing week more and more people were talking about how much they loved American Vandal? Yeah, well, you're looking at the next slow-build Netflix sensation right here. The End of the F***ing World is a British adaptation of Charles S. Forsman's graphic novel about two young adults who fall in love, run away from home, and do a lot of really bad shit. It's touching, funny, incredibly grim, and packed with pure emotion—and it's just the right length to watch the whole thing in one damn day. Well? What are you waiting for? —Larry Fitzmaurice, Senior Culture Editor, Digital

Paddington 2

Listen, I'm not even gonna pretend to know who Humpington the bear in the raincoat is. Here's the facts: even the New York Times is losing its shit over the new Paddington movie, and I'll be goddamned if me watching it with neither stakes nor expectations isn't what my goddamn Moviepass was made for. I'd wager on the fact that this movie has a gag where someone steps on a garden rake and it flips up and raps them on the noggin, like real comedy. Maybe it's Hugh Grant. —Emerson Rosenthal

Proud Mary

January's a terrible month for movies—sometimes, it seems like every month is terrible, both for movies and in general, but I digress. Anyway, one of the biggest releases this month is a movie where Taraji P. Henson kicks a bunch of ass. John Fogerty's mad about the title. I guess he's not going to see it. I might, though! —LF

The Commuter

Another constant in January: Liam Neeson movies where he's pulling a Taraji P. Henson (I made it a thing now) and beating the shit out of people. Neeson said he wasn't going to make movies like The Commuter anymore, but I guess he changed his mind. Can you really trust Liam Neeson? Idk, man—I might need his help one day. Don't want to burn any bridges. Anyway: The Commuter was also directed by Jaume Collet-Serra, who also directed 2016's Blake Lively-vs-shark-fest The Shallows. That movie was pretty good! Maybe this one will be too. —LF

My Next Guest Needs No Introduction With David Letterman

One of the most redemptive things about being a human being trapped in the prison of a singular consciousness is the fact that there are other people wandering around this big, wet rock whirling through space and time, who, for some reason or another, make us smile. These people are like a glass of ice water in Hell. Time either stands still, or moves much too fast whenever they’re around, and despite how much time has passed since you’ve last seen one another, the ebb and flow of your conversations remain as charming, comforting, and unstoppable as the ocean on a lazy day at the beach. Such is the relationship between former president Barack Obama and David Letterman, who, after two years of retirement, has decided to chat with a friend on stage in front of cameras once a month for the next six months. If you’re anything like me, then you know the ambient Sunday feeling of doom creeping on the horizon. You know Monday will bring with it a tornado of Trump and an onslaught of aggressively sad and distressing news. When that feeling starts to slink up behind you, turn this on. It’ll make you smile like only a friend does. —Patrick Adcroft, Copy Editor/Writer

The Polka King

The Polka King only recently came upon my radar, but it looks fascinating to me. It's based on a true story, concerning a polka bandleader who was sent to prison in 2004 for running an elaborate Ponzi scheme, and even though Jack Black can be extremely irritating sometimes, he seems to be channeling a similar vibe here that he did in Richard Linklater's overlooked 2011 dramedy Bernie. Intriguing! —LF

During a bipartisan White House meeting on Thursday, members of Congress asked Trump to consider upholding protections for immigrants from Haiti, El Salvador, and a handful of African countries to help strike a deal on immigration. According to the Washington Post, he shot the idea down, and then some.

"Why are we having all these people from shithole countries come here?" Trump reportedly said, adding that the US should be looking for more immigrants from countries like Norway.

Before the president flat-out denied the quote on Friday, the story tore through Twitter, got the word "shithole" printed in the New York Times (a first), and quickly became the only thing anyone wanted to talk about on cable news. CNN's Don Lemon, for example, didn't mince words.

Anderson Cooper echoed Lemon's take, calling Trump's comments "not racial, not racially charged," but "racist." He even choked up on-air while speaking about his time reporting in Haiti in the wake of the earthquake that devastated the country in 2010.

FOX's Tucker Carlson, on the other hand, doubled down on the president's comments, saying the countries he mentioned are "dangerous," "dirty," and "poor."

Late-night hosts had a field day riffing on the quote. The Daily Show's Trevor Noah, who's South African, had particularly strong grounds for going after the president.

On Late Night, Seth Meyers had to actually walk away from his desk.

Jimmy Kimmel wondered if the whole thing could have even happened, because if it had, "it would mean we voted for a racist."

Perhaps Stephen Colbert summed up the fiasco best: "Sir, they’re not shitholes," he said on The Late Show Thursday. "For one thing, Donald Trump is not their president.”

Follow Drew Schwartz on Twitter.

In an apparent effort to make himself an even less appealing 2020 contender, former Vice President Joe Biden had some harsh words for millennials while promoting his new book on Wednesday. Here's what he said in a conversation with Patt Morrison of the LA Times:

"The younger generation now tells me how tough things are. Give me a break. No, no, I have no empathy for it. Give me a break. Because here’s the deal guys, we decided we were gonna change the world. And we did. We did. We finished the civil rights movement in the first stage. The women’s movement came to be. So my message is, get involved. There’s no place to hide. You can go and you can make all the money in the world, but you can't build a wall high enough to keep the pollution out. You can't live where—you can't not be diminished when your sister can't marry the man or woman, or the woman she loves. You can't—when you have a good friend being profiled, you can't escape this stuff. And so, there's an old expression my philosophy professor would always use from Plato, 'The penalty people face for not being involved in politics is being governed by people worse than themselves.' It's wide open. Go out and change it."

Let's take this line by line.

The younger generation now tells me how tough things are. Give me a break. I have no empathy for it. Give me a break.

A January 2017 analysis of Federal Reserve data found that millennials, who are better educated than baby boomers, have a median household income of $40,581, meaning they earn 20 percent less than boomers did when they were our age. We're crippled with student debt to the point where home ownership is a pipe dream. So here's the deal, Joe—I'll give you a break if you give me some money.

Here’s the deal guys, we decided we were gonna change the world. And we did.

Who is "we"?

We finished the civil rights movement in the first stage. The women’s movement came to be.

Not sure what this even means. It's good that there are activists fighting the worst sorts of injustices? Sure, that's good.

So my message is, get involved. There’s no place to hide.

Who is hiding? I am not hiding.

You can go and you can make all the money in the world, but you can't build a wall high enough to keep the pollution out.

Considering the stats I just dropped about millennials, I'd actually have a really hard time making all the money in the world.

You can't live where—you can't not be diminished when your sister can't marry the man or woman, or the woman she loves. You can't—when you have a good friend being profiled, you can't escape this stuff.

Uh, sure...

There's an old expression my philosophy professor would always use from Plato, "The penalty people face for not being involved in politics is being governed by people worse than themselves." It's wide open. Go out and change it.

A recent study found a huge uptick in millennial involvement in politics since the 2016 election. I wonder how many of them will vote for Biden in the 2020 primary?

Follow Eve Peyser on Twitter.