Who are These Fucking Rapey Dudes

I’ve never met an incel, at least not a card-carrying one or one who admitted it, let alone a “He-Man Woman Hater.” I can’t think of a time when I was friends with a dude who thought it was anything but vile stupidity to cat-call a woman on the street or from a car. Granted, I quit theater years ago, don’t hang out much in comedy clubs and decided that the improv scene was far too much like high school so maybe I’m missing out on all the dripping toxicity of dudes who are doing everything they can to be seen as funny and cool in order to get laid, sometimes at any cost.

Love Curse — Part V

LEN BEGAN TO CRY. Sara sighed an exasperated growl that came out more growl than sigh. The sound caused Len’s eyes to grow large. As large as full moons.

With his stupid haircut and his two full moon eyes, his face was ridiculous. She could kill him. Really kill him.

“Jesus, what’s wrong with Sara?” one of the other jerks gasped.

Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of September 16, 2018

I’m canceling my subscription to Esquire after more than a decade of being a loyal subscriber and reader. Since Jay Fielden became editor-in-chief, it’s become an apologetic magazine for angry feminists and their terrified husbands. Granted, the reporting and fiction is still of value but it’s become too hard for me to get past the loaded front half of the rag — even flipping through it — without getting annoyed or feeling talked down to. I’ll miss you, Esquire, but I’ve missed you for a few years now.

Love Curse — Part III

She liked Len okay, really. She just didn’t true love love him. They barely knew each other. They’d met on a Tuesday, gone home together on Wednesday, and by Friday decided to go all in on the whole “boyfriend/girlfriend” thing. She’d taken things slow with her last relationship, after all, and look how that turned out. She wished Len would stop letting his mom cut his hair and go to a real barber for fuck’s sake, but the sex was good and they got along smoothly enough.

American Shithole #26 — A Remarkable, Unremarkable Day

Imagine you’re standing in the middle of a busy airport. Passengers crowd past you in every direction. Looking up at the arrivals and departures; all flights are delayed.  Suddenly, the entire board changes — rows and columns of numbers and letters flip with the familiar clickety-clack, clickety-clack of the old, analog displays — revealing only destinations on your bucket list, as the throngs of weary travelers part before you like the Red Sea.

That’s how I felt today.