Latest Posts

Male Authors Ranked By How Awful They Were To Women

Oh, Jane Austen is female? Really? My bad. It’s hard to assign a gender to those bulbous baggy eyes and sloping shoulders. Here’s how “she” was crappy to women: She glorifies uptight chicks. Have you ever noticed her fangirls tend to be on the highstrung “virtuous” side?

Seeing Your Ex

It is then that a decrescendo occurs and a cold stream runs through you as you remember that monumental fight you two got into, retreating into your corners of the ring, waiting for the other to send the first SOS, the first apology, the first admittance of wrongdoing.

The Pursuit Of Androgyny

Androgyny, as I intend for this piece, is not concerned with sexuality. Rather, it is androgyny defined as the spiritually developed person in the Jungian fashion of recognizing the anima (for guys) and the animus (for girls). There is a girl inside every boy and a boy inside every girl, to put it simply.

Why I Fall In Love In Ten Seconds

I pictured our life together. Taking her hand and tugging her to the nearest park to make-out on the see-saw. Discovering mutual phobias like our harrowing fear of neck wrinkles. Selecting matching patterned cases for our decrepit and brutally stained pillows we got from my parent’s storage space.

“I Love You”

I shook my head and furrowed my brow, chewing on my lip for a moment in concentration. I looked up at the other three. “I dunno, after four months, maybe five months of a pretty serious relationship? It would have to seem appropriate at the time.”

Couples Counseling: My Married Therapist Fell In Love With Me

Here was my dream man. It was all too much. I had signed up for therapy expecting a certain type of therapist. A mother figure swaddled in scarves, with an office stocked with tissues, homey furniture, and chocolate. All things girl. But here he was. All things man. Breathe, I told myself. Just give him an hour session. Then you can switch therapists.

On Growing Up On Venice Beach

When I walk down to the ugly grey beach of my hometown, I smell a mingling of the rotting of hamburgers with the cloying aroma of a hundred different brands of incense intermingling. I come back and try to go to sleep, but can’t as yet another drunkard stumbles down the alleyway, howling “to hell with it all!”

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