As long as these people live, they must be remembered for their greed, cowardice, hypocrisy, and incompetence. Let’s enter them into the lexicom.
The owner of my favorite coffee shop buys his mugs at yard sales. I never know which one he’ll give me. It might be the one with a caffeine molecule (C8H10N4O2), or the one with Mother is another word for love in purple cursive across a heart.
There’s no place like home! Inconveniently located a twenty-five-minute drive from anywhere, this Bel-Air neocolonial is popular with nostalgia lovers and masochists alike.
from The Nervous Breakdown October 15, 2009
from The Nervous Breakdown July 20, 2009 One summer when I was in my mid-twenties, I visited my friend Jeff in New Mexico. We were going to do some hiking, but all the trails were closed due to extreme fire hazard, so we spent my visit on his couch, playing the video game Grand Theft Auto. […]
from The Texas Review 39 (1 & 2) Spring/Summer 2018 * Melissa always said she was terribly allergic to mustard. She claimed she’d go into anaphylactic shock if she swallowed even a single seed. She always carried an EpiPen, and at every restaurant she’d ask the server to check with the kitchen to make certain […]