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Writers: Your Twitter Sh*t is Boring

Writers: Your Twitter Sh*t is Boring

It’s hard to imagine another person as utterly horrible as Hunter S. Thompson. Antisocial alcoholic drug addict who even failed as a narcissist. Verbally abusive, a liar, and a self-absorbed pedant. Not far behind him are people like Ernest Hemingway, Norman...
And Then You Break Up! Yay!

And Then You Break Up! Yay!

“Yeah, you get married, you have a kid, and then you need to break up!“   I heard my nine-year-old son say this to his friend in the backseat of the car one day last year. It came with no sarcasm; no somberness; no regret. The excitement was palpable....
My Lemmy Memory

My Lemmy Memory

My Lemmy Memory: Lemmy Kilmister died yesterday. You might not be familiar, but trust me: he lives on in all of us. Lemmy accessed a deep reserve of antisocial anger and rebellion somewhere beneath the sheen of good times and prepackaged adolescence most know as Rock...
My Forty-Seventh Fortieth Birthday

My Forty-Seventh Fortieth Birthday

I was born old. You know the thing old guys say to young women to try to get them in bed? “You have an old soul.” Actually, that might be me. I’m the one with an old soul. I think it’s rarely some 22 year-old nailtech in a bikini who’s...
Poetry: Like

Poetry: Like

“Like”   Ten thousand years of choices Made under the influence Of someone or something. It’s gotten us this far: Cackling invective, Sad pretense of wit. A too-easy intimacy, Casual, though false, Now beamed through screens in our hands.   Our...