Pop Culture. Crude Humor. Bottom Feeding Attempts at Intellectualism.
Picture it: New Year's Eve. 2021. I was in the kitchen, attempting to slice up a baguette that had gotten unexpectedly rock hard. (Heh. That's what she said!) While sawing through the stubborn stick of bread, the serrated knife sliced through the tip of my pinky, unleashing a geyser of blood. I aborted the bread mission and angrily chucked it in the trash. Partly out ...
In a 21-month period that's been a constant stream of anxiety, panic porn, and incessant carrot-dangling with regard to the promise of a return to normalcy, it would seem that the holiday season would offer a welcome respite from the 24-7 fuckery. Rather, the pressure to be cheerful, upbeat, and cling to tradition on top of feeling as if you're living in a prequel to ...
I got up to pee, squinting my eyes at the clock to see what time it was. It was 3am on September 3rd, 2020. Then it hit me. Shit. It was now officially 11 years since my father had passed. It was 11 years since I went to sleep after my last phone conversation with him the night before -- September 2nd, 2009 -- hearing fear in his voice ...
