Okay assholes, here is how this is gonna work.
Eat shit, assholes.
I was 30 the last time I peed my pants. This was the 2010's. It was after hanging out with friends somewhere in the center part of the city I lived in—maybe thirty minutes walk from my apartment. The place was a mexican place—it had burritos and tacos and things like that. Ranchero music and a salsa bar. A big…
I was 14 the last time I shit my pants. This was the 1990's. It was during an end-of-junior high field day sort of thing somewhere in the northern part of the state I grew up in—maybe forty minutes away from the junior high. I think the place was a converted farm—it had paddle boats and canoes and things like that.…
Technology—it’s the present!
Over the last several weeks, I’ve compiled submissions for the best records of 2016 from seventeen different participants in the Gawrker Music Pole.
1. His collar says, “I’m a man of honor,” but his hair says, “I fuck all night.”
One time there was this guy who played quarterback for the Chicago Bears named Jay Cutler. He wasn’t very handsome and he wasn’t very good at playing quarterback and most people hated him and plus he also had diabetes. Then one fall day, a scientist approached him in a white lab coat and said, “Hiya, Jay.” and Jay…
I’ve seen a lot of great writing on this webpage, but I’ve not received enough union dues to continue protecting us as a workforce. Everyone owes me dues. If you’re reading this, you owe me probably the most dues of all!
Do you want to write fiction? Come along and take a ride with me, the No MFA man.
“People forget 9/11 but I remember. What a beautiful morning it was! After the towers fell, I watched the music video for P.O.D.’s “Alive,” on MTV eight times a day. Some souls were lost that fateful day. Others were found.”
‘Mail’ is an alternate spelling for the gender of Sidespin dot com’s readers and contributors.
Mail is composed of letters and packages delivered by a postal system.
chid: Tonight, we’re on a 3 hour tape-delay because I went to a concert. My ears are ringing and I’m tired, but fashion waits for no one.
chid: This week, the designers head to Coney Island to recreate scenes from The Warriors. There will be gang fights and mesh fabric and baseball and all sorts of bad ideas.
chid: While the rest of the country watches a bunch of “unpaid” student athletes shoot 33% from the field, we’ll watch the greatest program on television—Project Rubway All Sitars. Welcome back! It’s barbecue cooter week!
chid: This week on (colon) All Stars, the designers must make opposite red carpet looks for some Little Big Town. I don’t know which Little Big Town, because they never say! Let’s assume Minneapolis. I know a ton about Minneapolis!