Group…oh come on!
Sean and Ellen met on Bumble. Their first date was a standard drink at a bar in Roscoe Village. The date lasted three hours and the conversation flowed well.
Their second date was for dinner. The night went well but then, the bill came.
I Want to Be the Core Holding in Your Hedge Fund of Pussy
You date like you're running a hedge fund, always keeping some women on the side just in case your current main squeeze doesn't work out, is busy or out of town, or pisses you off…
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of February 17, 2019
• Forgiveness is not valued enough. And too often, it’s not even attempted. And that’s why we’re doomed.
• I feel a crushing amount of guilt and regret for thinking that Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez is an attractive person. I feel the same way about Ivanka Trump.
Harmless Experiment — A Terrible Serial Killer
“Mom, the good news is I’d make an awful serial killer,” I said, tears wetting my cheeks.
American Shithole #48 | Feel the (Rug) Bern
For me though, I remember the feeling I had when a true progressive — one completely untethered from the klepto-capitalist clutches of billionaires, boardrooms, and banks (That’s a Lois Lane level of alliteration!) — was running against Hillary Clinton; and winning.
A Surly Serbian Marie Kondo Broke My Shit
To provide indisputable proof that life is chaos and there is no justice in the world, Matthew’s four boxes filled with nothing more than more empty boxes made it unscathed.
The Minutes of Our Last Meeting | National Emergency Task Force
We’re being SUED and then we’ll be SUED again until it goes to the supreme COURT and we win when Kavanaugh’s vote butt CHUGS it in people’s faces.
Minding My Own Business
I watch birds fly and I wonder what that would be like. I see bees working together to get pollen and I wonder what that would be like. (By the way, I feel bad when I trap a fly in my car, because, you know, he’s never gonna find his way home.) I feel like I’d like to be a wolf or a bear. And, I also look at other groups of people, and I wonder what that would be like. That wondering about what it would be like to be them, often gives way to a jealousy about not being them.
I Believe... [“Fragile” is an Invitation for Abuse]
...that the height of delusional expectation is demonstrated most clearly when you write “Fragile” on a box being moved 2,000 miles cross-country. It’s like the box is a fat kid with a perpetually snotty nose in tight yellow Adidas shorts and a stutter — the bullies get in line to toss him under a couch.
Letting Go of the Things We Love
Gun to head, I’d have told you I was a leg man over a boobs guy and meant it. So much so, that in my early-twenties, after talking about it for years, I finally stole a mannequin leg from a mall department store. Okay, I didn’t steal it, my friend, Chris Gallant stole it. We were walking out of Dillards (maybe it was Robinsons-May), and I was saying, again, how badly I wanted to steal one of those legs. Chris, tired of the same old talk and no action, grabbed a leg decked out in DKNY thigh-high pantyhose just before exiting through the automatic doors. We barely picked up our pace as we headed to the car.
“Here’s your fucking leg,” he said.
How I Wish He Loved Me
How I wish he loved me. Overheard conversations. His indifference, his levity. Always a player, play-ah, bitches, beech-as. I know I'm stupid. Don't mind being stupid for him. He knows I'm stupid for him. Takes me for granted. I want to be taken for granted.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of February 10, 2019
Valentine’s Day isn’t a dumb holiday. It’s a day of self-help. Valentine’s Day gives you the opportunity to manage your anxiety, pride, and feelings of loneliness. And according to Brian Sweeney, it’s the best day to eat ass and gargle nut.
Noble X — Episode 20: Contemplating Surrender
They give him ibuprofen and try to get him to drink water. Paul lies in the kitchen on the cold linoleum floor, writhing in pain while John and Colin sit at the table, now both riding Paul’s emotional rollercoaster.
American Shithole #47 | Red Fish, Blue Fish, Fuck Fish, You Fish?
But first, before they throw themselves like chum to sharks, every democrat must apologize.
Right. I can see why they’re all lining up to get it out of the way early. The hypocrisy of singling out moments of stupidity every well-meaning democrat must now say they are “sorry” for, while this criminally incompetent president sits atop a mountain of bullshit, deceit, cruelty and treachery, is likely hard for them to stomach.
It’s like comparing parking tickets to pedophilia.
Take the gloves off, Democratic Party, and start swinging like you’re fighting for your country’s life — because you are. Stop fucking Gillibrand-ing each other; stay fucking unified.
Remember the Al Franken!
Tangibility of Happiness
He always notices. No one else does. Those buttery eyes, like velvet embraces when they glance upon you. How is it possible for eyes to hold the universe? He can’t be human. He’s a man who moves with wings upon his shoulders, his feet just above the dirty ground, never soiled by the earth. And he always notices you.
The Minutes of Our Last Meeting | Machine Gun America
The family that shoots together, shoots together.
Detritus Exasperated Love
Farewell to Chicago [1989–2019]
I Believe... [We’re All Just Lazier Than Ted Bundy]
...that our collective fascination with serial killers is fucking morbid and shows us all to be the monsters who think — a lot — about murdering people but lack the gumption.
Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas: Advice from a Former Las Vegan to the Valley’s Newest
At the time of this writing, my friend and former Chicago-based poet, model, and musician, Dana Jerman is residing in her new home in Las Vegas, Nevada. Her husband, co-editor of Literate Ape, longtime storyteller mainstay, and man with a complicated relationship with his feet, Don Hall is just three days out from loading up the last vestiges of their Chicago life — forty years between the two of them — into his Prius to make the drive west and begin a new adventure in a part of America Joseph Smith once referred to as a “great place to do anal with child brides and legally take money from the Jews.”
Jake and Caroline’s first date was at The Whistler. They talked about Ronnie, how much they loved The Diplomat, and debated the better ride-share service, Uber or Lyft. She was Uber, he was Lyft. They got wasted on Sazeracs and had sex at her apartment. It was incredible for both of them. Caroline stopped taking sex advice from Ronnie.