The best thing for the future of a word like consent is to just stop talking about all of it.

In 1902, he finally cut off his own penis with a small knife that he'd managed to smuggle into his cell.

I hover above the toilet, my thighs rock hard as they hold my body in a seated position. The walls are covered in yellowing images of women from the 70s. Half-clothed, their nipples are big and

He hugged me, kissed the top of my head. “I was wrong,” he said. “Just be grateful I’m not drinking. I can’t do more right now.”

october bumble date

less human. less here.
my mother lost my face and now i’m
everywhere. smeared in public. pulp
in private. self-immolation summer on demand.
i’ll love you all again
at the

Video surveillance is for your safety 

I lost my thought and now I can't do anything but listen 

Writing is only anything if you can sublimate or depreciate the original thing into a

They say you shouldn’t feed the trolls, but trolls are an essential component of the culture.

I think sometimes what people mean by “likable” as opposed to sympathetic or goodhearted is “conforming to my idea of what behavior I should aspire to.”

now Icarus has gone swimming and I see him in the Sun

I’m sleeping with another writer who won’t stop talking about his Ex.

On your knees, piggy Macy replied.

tomorrow is what garfield / hates most of all

It should be noted that I really love to eat pussy.

I think outside of drinking himself to death, Fitzgerald had a pretty fantastic life.

There’s a police helicopter in the rainbow!

I’m so happy for Greta Gerwig and all she’s done for gender!

The price is so low when you buy 100 units of Botox at a time!

A psychic told my

Corey are you wasting time?

How would I know?

I don’t know.

Ninety percent of the time 
there are two women.

“I’m a fan of being a good rebound”, Alexander says. “It’s really a sweet spot I think. That’s why its so heartbreaking. It’s so tempting. But that kind of level of closeness and independence is very

The best futures are the ones that never come.

I punched him on the cheekbone, with a closed fist.  He sat up, shocked.

I just told you about the time I met Burt Reynolds.

I dabbed on hydrocortisone and Vagisil at every available restroom. Each soothing moment gave way to another of pain.

That thought, that wish,
that plan: your girl.

I think less about sunscreen than I do God.

By August I ended up having only enough energy to have sex with just the one man.

You: I can't live in a world where seventy-five percent of anything is perfect.