its just like peeing. it is peeing, what am i talking about, why am i narrating this? i started peeing, missed the cup, and realized i didn’t even know where it was coming from. i wasn’t sure whether to be disgusted or panicked… more
its just like peeing. it is peeing, what am i talking about, why am i narrating this? i started peeing, missed the cup, and realized i didn’t even know where it was coming from. i wasn’t sure whether to be disgusted or panicked… more
That night I jammed my erect penis into the opening of Dad’s new wife’s minced garlic jar and put it back in the fridge, so I guessed we were even.… more
When at a red light for too long I’d headbutt my father. Helmet to helmet, just to say hello. Pachycephalosaurus was one of the last dinosaurs around, headbutting throughout the late Cretaceous. That is until an asteroid hit the planet.… more
Twenty years later I watched a music video and saw a girl flop into the back seat of a car and her legs dangled out the door and the whole thing came back and repeated in my head over and over for hours like the return of a chronic infection, like a burning, corrosive rash.… more
Oh, to be young and think you’re the baddest motherfucker on two legs again. He has four legs. But whatever. We’re all baddasses until life grinds us up and turns us into bologna.… more
The more you resist telling a story, the more likely it needs to be told for you to take the next steps forward, in life as in writing.… more
You can be tall or short; you can be heavy or thin; you can have long hair or short hair or black hair or blonde or purple; you can have freckles or rosacea or clear skin; but none of this will matter if you have a mustache. The mustache becomes you.… more
Miss Ferguson doesn’t mind me smoking, its aroma reminding her of her dead father, and tells me my surly expression, which I nurture, spoils my looks as I sense her warming to me. Being too young to attract girlfriends is my saving grace in her eyes.… more
People will tell you that they always saw what you were, but they’ll never offer up why they kept the information to themselves. Who are we to give a thing a name?… more
There was always something alluring about disclosure with strangers, the assurance that your secrets or failings would be forgotten, buried away in that person’s mind as they took a train to a different city, met a different person, until all the new memories fell as thick snow over the slender tracks of your disclosure.… more