Dumpster Fire Chique

A huge industrial dumpster. Plumes of toxic black smoke roil out of it into the sky over tongues of orange flame. Nubile models with dead sooty eyes feed the flames with pitchforks from atop piles of designer goods. Gucci. Louis Vuitton. Hermes. Handbags. Clothes. Shoes. All speared and thrown to the flames. At one end … Continue reading Dumpster Fire Chique

Papa on Tickling

Papa. My grandfather.He was full-on German. And by full-on, I mean full-fucking-ON.Born and bred Prussian aristocracy: a real Von from Berlin. I'm not bragging, it just is what it is, and very relevant to who he was. Unless you've been pinned under the gaze of a man who's had that kind of upbringing, you can't … Continue reading Papa on Tickling

Party Time With the Cool Kids

At the first drinking party I went to in high school, everyone was going on about how great the last party was because some chick blew some guy, threw up all over herself, passed out in a bathtub, and then shit her pants. “And you know what? She's coming to the party later! Her brother … Continue reading Party Time With the Cool Kids