It took three of us to get a king size mattress stuffed into the tiny service elevator, pushing our shoulders into it so it would finally give and bend. It sprung out when the doors opened, like a
Of course, I thought about these uncles. Even WhatsApp-d some of them when I remembered.
Long before I wore wigs to punish the men who had punished me, I wore them to channel Selma Blair. I was thirteen, my flat chest leaned over the bathroom sink. We were both brunettes, but that’s
To a degree rarely rivaled, Sean Kilpatrick lives for words. Tantrums is a testament to the last twenty years of his life, and includes absolutely batshit scripts, joyfully brutal fiction, and
“Have you tried hookers?
Church? God? Your dead
mother? Pills? Coke? Crack?”
He spiked a 104 fever and just as I called his neurologist to ask if we should head to the ER, my son seized for the first time in over 157 million seconds.
Bitter Water Opera is one of the most beautiful books I’ve ever read.
The man that killed the world is being lauded as the better of the billionaires because he launched a cloned app that bans you if you aren’t positive. It’s like if you were stuck underneath a boulder
The second time I gave him head he couldn’t get hard. He said this never happens.
Someone behind him checked their phone and I saw the time. 1:36am. I thought about what would happen when the bar flicks the lights on and everyone scatter like roaches
Ball sweat, BO, ass, dirty armpits, nail polish, hairspray, feet, Newports, Bugler, Jack Daniels, vodka, cupcakes, tequila, donuts, Squirt, hot Cheetos, McDonald’s wrappers, coffee left sitting out for weeks...
His dreams fill with bell towers, stabbing deaths, his lifeless body dragged by split fingernails into consciousness.
“Because of nothing we are together.”
—KA
Now, there were two biographers and a documentary filmmaker circling her fame like the moons of Planet Kathy, goddess of love and lust rising in
She began imagining what it might have been like to be Agatha, crying and disheveled with both pale breasts exposed.
Let’s get more filthy!
“I’ve asked you here tonight to tell you I’ve told my wife everything. She’s fine with it, she really is, and I want to really emphasize that. She only asks that we’re not intimate in our bed. Hers
February 21 – Hungover. And sometimes that’s good.
In time, the questions become increasingly diffuse, numbers jumble and disappear, the symbolic order smears.
If I could be in The Fifth Element, I'd want to be in the scene where they pulled things out of the blue opera singer's belly. But I would want to keep pulling out new, surprising things.
In their blue jeans and Carhartt beanies, the boys are nearly as pretty as the girls who’ll never fuck them.
They buy a gram of coke and a gram of k because everyone knows that girls love drugs.
“How do you say, I am the wolf.”
“Je suis le loup. Tu es mon loup. You are my wolf.”
“Je suis le loup,” I say.
The night I met Ray Liotta I was backstage at a Kid Rock concert
True story.
You know Urmquast Meldoofi? The guy who writes the homeless features for The New York Times? Published a book not too long ago about the plight of the homeless in small urban
Augmentation, arrangements, verities, varial flips . . .
