Mother Mo(u)rningstar
I’d sing for you… If i had a better time off this page. Scream to see it through…
The Applause Machine: Part One—FAILURE IS MARKET RESEARCH
People came.
At first they came to be angry.
Then they came to be seen being angry.
Then they came because tickets became difficult to obtain.
Living in a Nightmare
Murder and genocide are NOT patriotism. It’s dominance. Erasure is a play on power, and America does the shit well.
Hell in a Handbasket
Before she was Jane Hadley, the rock ’n’ roll singer/songwriter—the Goddess of Rock, bigger than Taylor, Adele, and Beyoncé combined, she was Jane Hadley, the folk ’n’ roll singer/songwriter who never sold more than a thousand albums and a few hundred t-shirts.
Instructions for the Proper Disposal of Dangerous Literature, or How I Accidentally Fell in Love During Office Hours
Its cover was plain linen, the color of fossilized limestone. There was no author. No publication date. The first page contained only a sentence.
I have been waiting for you.
Bucking the Tiger
Pan's eyes lit up. "I have met God."
Hume paused in the dealing. Roberts's mouth turned into a grim smile. "You've met God, have you, you heathen prick?"
Pan nodded. "I have. God is a white man."
Divorce, Rain, and Other Maintenance Issues
The universe, as far as I can tell, is held together with embarrassingly small kindnesses.
The Ultimate Decision
He was tired of carrying her weight. Her financial choices and responsibilities. Her alcoholism. And he knew she was tired of his drug abuse and laziness and porn addiction. And Train played. And the guy kept talking. “Thing is, man… if it weren’t for divorce, I’d have student loans.”
Compensation Commensurate with Sacrifice
“They waited for the next frightened person to confuse survival with surrender.”
The Adventures of Aborted Andy | Episode I: Meeting Your Maker
Andy was good at his job. And for a nine-month-old baby, he was really good at it.
We're Letting You Go
"You know, people misunderstand Human Resources. They think we're here for employees."
Hazy, I Pee, Eh?
Life comes clearer on a hot, hazy summer day.
Sunburnt shoulders hunched from carrying the weight of the world
And the weight of your child and his laughter.
The Emergency Exit
“Chuck had spent half his life mistaking another person’s pain for his assignment.”
The Ocean Doesn't Care About Your Pond
Everyone is extraordinary somewhere. Growth begins the moment you discover how ordinary you are.
The Broken Machine
Jack took a deep breath. "Why is it so easy for you to dismiss the truth for your convenience? You have to understand that the personal is political, right?
Wild One
They entered the open-brick condo eager to rip each other’s clothes off. Maria rubbed the front of Eric’s kakis, while he slid his fingers up her red bubble skirt. He tore her white blouse and sucked from her shoulders down to her fingertips. Maria unbelted Eric’s pants and chucked the leather across the room.
My Best Drinking Buddies Have Joined AA
My best drinking buddies have joined AA,
given up the bottle, sobered up, gotten on the wagon
without falling off.
Las Vegas Tour Company
on the corner
of Casino Center and Colorado with the studded thongs and the leashes around their slim necks and those high- waisted hot-pants hiked up to that sinched waist terrified by the possibility of beauty, while forgetting what
it might
be
...slowly
losing
life
Problematic Movies of the '80s | Earth Girls Are Easy (1988)
I find myself bemused and slightly embarrassed that in my years of most physically viable my choices were so directly motivated by my cock.
Blink
He blinked again. His cheek no longer soothed by the wooden floor beneath it. A wisp of intrusive dust drifted towards him, settling on his lashes. A laborious blink, his only remedy, then another, the particle unmoving.
Being an escort for me was like being a scrapbooker on Etsy for most other single moms trying to pick up some extra money. The only difference was that I could make a few thousand bucks for one hour of potential discomfort versus making a few hundred for several hours of suffering through handmade clip art. I’m a pretty open-minded person, but I cannot for one second believe that there is any joy in being hunched over a desk, cutting and pasting other people’s memories together. It seems so lonely and juvenile.