A Model United Nations: This Curfew Is Bullshit

It was a glorious day in the nation’s capital. We picked up beverages and laid out on the lawn, toasting the Washington Monument as it glinted in the sunlight. I fleetingly wondered how things were going at the conference; not well to be sure, given that the delegation from the United States was busy drinking malt liquor out of brown bags on Capitol Hill. The entire Model UN was probably falling apart.

Noble X — Episode 18: Opening Ceremonies

“What the fuck is he doing?” Thomas grabs Anthony by the arm. Anthony shrugs and whispers, “It feels like performance art, maybe. Not sure.” Colin overhears and adds leaning in, “Let’s just keep an eye on him.” Surprisingly, nobody leaves. However uncomfortable they’ve been made at the start of this evening, they are all intrigued and intend to see how this plays out.

Did I Say “Hot Room?”

A Parent/Teacher Conference. Mom stands next to Dad, looking slightly annoyed. Dad, on the other hand, looks pissed. And the eighth grade turd who frequently stirs up trouble in class and is thereby the target of some of my more creative punitive measures, is looking so pleased that Mr. Hall is finally going to get it.

Is Marketing the Root of All Evil?

Gillette doesn’t feel like a sales pitch. It feels genuine. It is a marketing success. But also, “Buy our razors because Dollar Shave Club and Harry’s ain’t woke like we are.” There’s just no escaping it, for-profit companies need our money, and they’ll do anything to get it. In this case, Gillette did it right.

The Zen of Death Cleaning | Part 1

Due to a recent death in the family and through a very specific set of circumstances, a peculiar history if you will, several generations of things including furniture, dishes and glassware, books, family photographs, art created and collected by family members, plus handwritten notes, cards, diaries, etc. have accumulated in one house which I find myself compelled to look through.

Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of January 6, 2019

You don’t need balloons or cupcakes to be excited about learning your baby’s sex. And yes, it’s a sex. It’s never gender. Gender is a social construct, and for even the most pro-life pro-lifers out there, an unborn child/fetus/uterine turd cannot, by the laws of science, be socialized. Talk to it, play music for it, fine. You can’t make it like pink or blue in the womb. If you need to be surprised about your baby’s sex, listen to what your OB or midwife tells you during pregnancy, or at the time of birth. Getting all geared up over the sex of a child is exactly why we have sexism. So, please, for the sake of our future, knock it the fuck off.