American Shithole #28 — Keeping Up with the Kavanaughs
“Boys will be boys,” some old, crusty bitches have said about drunk, teenage rapists — by the way, fuck you, conservative white women over 50. Seriously, fuck you. I want a new world order where you get assaulted at bridge club by wandering donkeys fed solely on Viagra.
Hey, donkeys on Viagra will be donkeys, you crusty fucking bitches.
When the Plate Glass Decapitates You and Trump Is the Only Thing On Your Mind
Like a heavy feather, the plate glass gracefully sliced through air for 7.6 seconds before gently decapitating Flores where she stood.
The Minutes of Our Last Meeting – Christian Halloween Party Planning
The kids have to draw pictures of their favorite Bible stories while the other kids have to guess what the story is. It’s like Pictionary without the pornography.
And Sometimes I Drive A Trolley
I do a lot of stuff. I write for this magazine. I teach improv, film, documentary and theater to kids. I teach test prep to teens. I teach communication and public speaking courses to college freshmen. But when it comes to the subject of me, the thing that seems to get most people’s attention, is my oldest stream of income. I drive a trolley and give tours. I have for over 20 years.
America is Not the Amityville Horror or Poltergeist House
The house that is the United States, if it were an actual house, has plenty of flakey hemoglobin on the grounds.
I Believe… [Go to the Gym Anyway…]
…that the days you really don’t want to go to the gym — making excuses, promising yourself that you’ll fast that day if only you can skip — but do are the days that matter most.
Thou Doth Protest Too Much is Likely a Predator
My newsfeed is inundated with people digitally crying over Kavanaugh’s advance and rightfully so. I can’t help but wonder how many of these digital tears are from closeted abusers. A closeted abuser is someone that seems, to the naked eye, like a totally normal guy.
Love Curse — Part VIII: The Conclusion
LEN AWOKE HANGING UPSIDE DOWN FROM THE CEILING IN SOME TYPE OF SMALL, DARK, BROKEN DOWN SHACK. An old hag was below him chewing off his fingernails. He tried to scream but realized that his tongue had been ripped from his mouth.
Real Life Ghost Stories: Moon Point Cemetery
According to ye good ol’ internet, Moon Point Cemetery has a legend of the Hatchet Lady, who is said to have gone crazy from the death of her child and guarded the grave with a hatchet to protect it. Even in death, she remains an eternal vigil of her child’s grave.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of September 23, 2018
Think of how much more interesting The Diary of a Young Girl would have been if young Anne Frank had a little Amsterdam hash with her in that attic.
Love Curse — Part VII
I’M GLAD THAT CHANDELIER FELL ON ME. Ironically, for someone named Hope, I sure didn't have any—hope, that is. I had a cynical vision of my future with hubby Phillip.
American Shithole #27 — There’s More Room for Billionaires on a Starving Planet
Besides, the number of people clipped, side-swiped, T-boned, or completely totaled by this administration, is ever-growing. Make no mistake about it, your turn getting run over is coming — you need to vote; pretty please, with sugar on top.
Notes From the Chippewa Moraine
If you’ve never woken alone in the middle of the night to the sound of a coyote screaming about 50 feet from your campsite, then drifted nearly back to sleep only to hear it cry again, closer this time, and then lope straight through your camp, you’ve missed out on a truly unsettled night’s sleep.
These backpacking trips are an opportunity to get away from the world. Maybe more importantly, they’re an opportunity to get out of my own head.
The Minutes of Our Last Meeting – First Lutheran Church of the Trinity High School Assembly – New Dress Codes
Honestly, I wish I had these guidelines when I was your age. I wore a skort once and all the boys did all day was look at me like a slobbery dog looks at a juicy piece of meat. I felt really bad that I did that to them.
Love Curse — Part VI
HOPE SAT QUIETLY. She noticed she had done that thing again. Where she disappears in plain sight. Her mind wondering how she got there. There was a champagne glass in her hand.
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.
I Believe… [The Real Resistance is Happening on Twitter and Fortnite]
…that feeling anxiety, victimized, or unjustly treated no longer makes you special or interesting. Your many ineffective tweets at @therealDonaldTrump and Fortnite ranking does.
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.
Love Curse — Part IV
She hated people who needed clarification. “Do you need clarification often? Are you frequently confused?” He was lost and she didn’t care. She decided then to pursue his demise.
I’m a Fool for You, Baby
We love as much, as well
as we are able, imperfect,
broken, yet doing
the best that we can,
which isn’t very good
at all.
Misrepresenting intention/ And donning it as/Passion, I’m reactive—