The Weather

Words from the Poet Laureate

Say there. Say. You. Yeah you, the one raising his pussy drink to his pussy lips lined with that curly pussy beard. Yeah that’s right, I just totally inverted your supposed symbols of testosterone-fueled manliness and…

The Weather

Hey Kid

“…”   “Oh, hey there, pal. Is that Brendan I’m talking with here?”   “…”   “Brandon? They should call you Brando, you got such acting chops.”   “…”   “What? It’s me, kid, Maury. Maury…

Memoir

Take It or Leave It

The day my aunt Susan and I went to clean out my dead father’s house I woke up with a hangover that was worse than the one I had during my grandmother’s funeral, but not as…

LA Stories

Bakersfield

FICTION Blake crushed the can of his sixth beer into his fist and stood up. “I’ll get the car,” he said to Erica. She was only half-aware of being addressed, just as she had been only…

Memoir

Home Security

Watching TV one afternoon, Audrey and I were startled by a loud crack, like someone slapping the side of our house with a sheet of plywood, immediately followed by a motorcycle roaring away. Audrey got up…