Do you remember this one?
Exposing myself to the dumbest ideas and the most hateful weirdos online triggers a chemical reaction that gives me pleasure, or something like it. A hoarder of bad ideas, stacking them all up into wobbly piles that might someday topple and crush me.
The song on repeat, singing to Scout, for some reason stranded, standing on the patio table, dead-center, like a reanimated roast, and my father, drunk and shirtless, passed out in a pile of mulch in the yard.
July yawns. Flashes its grills...
At last our molars burst forth from the gum and we emerged from the rose-colored womb of our first grade classroom.
I hope you’re still unsatisfied. I hope you’re keeping your nose clean.
When it is morning morning I dress myself in nice human clothes. I am ready to leave the garden, but I do not leave the garden.
When your father and I found out you were a boy I remembered the time in my early twenties a co-worker at my first restaurant job invited me out for a drink with the crew after our shift. He drove me
There’s a complex mythology to this album, one that plunges the BÖC back catalogue into a cauldron of secret histories and magick mirrors and extraterrestrial visitors.
Do us in quick, I begged, do me easy.
SOMETIMES WHITE PEOPLE THINK THAT YELLING FACILITATES LANGUAGE ACQUISITION.
Dear ,
I’m sorry that on your birthday you lost all your money gambling while I made $250.
We have not seen Mark for the rest of the season, confirming my steadfast belief that he was either a criminal masquerading as an employee or an employee who was immediately fired once his conduct towards an Access Member and celebrated Hobart columnist was discovered.
THE SEATTLE MARINERS' history is one long tale of woe studded with infrequently dazzling displays of capability, with all of it adding up to exactly zero championships. I say this as someone who has
That chorus, the coda of “Famous Last Words,” which closes the album except for the gimmick bonus “Blood,” pretty much saved me.
Only 498 words remain. So, let's turn to death.
From the time I was seven until I started taking Seroquel, an anti-psychotic, I had this unending feeling of doom. ‘My go to’, be that of death.
I kept my thoughts about Bitchface Becky to myself
but then Beyoncé did something magical
Our waitress bustles around smiling a strangely huge smile for this boring work night. My boyfriend Nick and I don’t follow football and weren’t invited to any parties, and since most Texans are either holding or attending parties the place is pretty deserted. After the waitress brings our waters she follows her normal script and asks if we want to try a signature TGI Fridays drink, but her eyes keep dancing to the bar behind us.
