I was just hoping there would be a book tour where they hold me while I cry.

This was back before original sin. Everyone knows that back in the garden of Eden, Eve doomed us all to die when she parted her lips and menstruated for the first time.

I read I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings when I was about 11 or 12. It gave me the courage to tell my mother I was being molested by a family member, and had been for years (since about 5). At first my mother did everything right, and then she did everything wrong, and I had to live with my abuser until I left home at…

Dude, I would love to watch a movie about a cokehead burnout mermaid. That sounds like it could go places.

So I was a vegetarian for many years for moral reasons, and people always liked to sort of pick fights with me about it along the lines of “well you don’t eat meat, BUT I BET YOU EAT SKITTLES AND THEY’RE MADE WITH HORSE BONES*” or “UR SHOES HAVE LEATHER IN THEM I BET” or whatever. Which, I mean, they aren’t wrong, but…

Two white people looking sad, some seagulls, and a grey sky in the background.

So? We have nothing to lose anyways? Why not shine a spotlight on how screwed up our system is for voting? How many provisional ballots are being thrown out, for example? And what’s wrong with making sure that we weren’t hacked?

Yep, that bell can never, ever be unrung.

I know you aren’t interested. I’m just describing your position.

And while still having basic human rights.

Well, if we’re going to be terrified either way, I’d at least prefer to be terrified while still having my health insurance.

As a mother of a child on the spectrum, can you please dismiss any comments mocking Trump for having an autistic child? I hate Trump with a fiery passion, but that shit is off limits.

RadioLab’s Robert Krulwich did an interesting piece on Brian Ladoon a few years back.

Tiny hands!

What we can do is stop tolerating borderline racist comments for the sake of being polite.

Michelle Obama.

Hey, I’m processing it through craft beers!

When I started out I was working in Chicago as a night editor at a production/post house. The building the company was situated in was an old 7 story (I think, forget the exact number) place that survived the Chicago mafia’s heyday. The place had exposed brick walls, the A/C was obviously added later as it was just…

My father grew up in Florida. His mother died when he was a teenager of lung cancer and in the fullness of time his father was remarried to the woman I would know as my grandmother.

She entered the marriage with a house that had been passed down to her in the middle of an old-growth orange grove. It was a classic old…

Gonna share some fun ones from my childhood home.