The Perfect Airbnb Family Vacation … Except for the Creepy Roommate

By COREY LEVITAN

I value not getting me or my family raped, murdered, or videotaped for an Internet sex site more than I do saving a couple hundred dollars. But obviously not much more, or I would have paid closer attention when booking my first Airbnb.

Friends have raved for years about this website, which connects people seeking to rent a spare room, apartment, or house for less than the going hotel rate, with people who have one. One of my female friends uses it for extra cash nearly every weekend.

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I Tried Speed Dating with a Bag over My Face. Here’s What Happened

By COREY LEVITAN & JUSTIN YURKANIN

The latest craze in London is speed dating with a paper bag on your head. No, seriously. It's the perfect antidote to the digital narcissism of today's young singles, who regularly lie to themselves when they say looks don't matter.

While traditional, bag-free speed daters wonder why they're still alone after rejecting soulmate-after-future-soulmate because of a bald head or a double chin, these Londoners seem to have hit upon a novel way of seeking romantic compatibility—and of hiding their bad British teeth.

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Go-Going For it: My night as a go-go boy in a gay nightclub

By COREY LEVITAN

It's a good thing I'm getting married next month. These photos are going to kill off all my dating options for at least three years.

As one of nine go-go boys at the gay nightclub Piranha, it's my job to "fulfill the fantasy," as described by Carlos Salazar, the 34-year-old Las Vegan who trained me to replace him.

I can't imagine a single fantasy fulfillable by the sight of my jiggling atop a Plexiglas pedestal in low-rise briefs , but here I am.

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PANE AND SUFFERING: Window-washing stint has reporter yearning for terra firma

By COREY LEVITAN

My trembling right foot slips off the rung as I descend the ladder backward. The ground, where so many of my fondest memories have occurred, lies 921 feet straight down.

I don't want to say I'm afraid of heights, but I talk to God whenever the ski lift goes over those roller things. Yet here I am, hanging outside the observation tower at the Stratosphere, washing the windows. Yes, the ones at the tippy top.

And I've lost my footing. My ass is glass.

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