Anyone who knows me well could probably tell you that my dream gig would be writing the Human Guinea Pig column at Slate. I love the adventure, the sense of humor, the outright joyfulness of the column. I even love the cartoons. 

There are a lot of things I love on Slate. I love the XXFactor blog, the movie reviews, the political coverage, Dear Prudence. But I’m a “try anything once” kind of girl, and so the Human Guinea Pig speaks to me. Back in the days when I made my living as a newspaper reporter, I was always finding some new ridiculous thing to subject myself to. I entered a pie-eating contest. I took a kickboxing class. I even rode a horse through a flood once. That job was a whole lot of fun, and I often find myself missing it. I had to move on, but if Slate saw fit to make me a Human Guinea Pig I could relive those glory days.

Emily Yoffe, the reigning Guinea Pig, has entered a Matzoh ball eating contest, visited a nudist colony, and trained her dog using nothing but tips from The Dog Whisperer. Doesn’t this all sound like a ton of fun?

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