The Engagement Blowjob

I'm on vacation! (Again? Yes. Envy me.) This recent wave of tranquility has made me realize that I've been so busy criticizing my fellow Americans, tearing up Mexicans' poor sense of style (Converse in the Angelopolis Luxury Hall: need I say more?), and waxing poetic about my novio that I've forgotten to write about my... Continue Reading →


Run Lola Run! Just Don’t Make Me Join You

I ran today. I donned athletic-ish wear, displaced myself to a burnt sienna rubbery circle and I attempted to mobilize myself around it. I was sweating like a heroin junkie and breathing like a woman in labor. Breech. My legs felt like little hands were ripping the muscles in sixteen different directions, and I had... Continue Reading →

Taking It From Behind

Despite the title, this blog post is not going to be about anal sex. This fair lady's posterior passageway remains untouched at the time of publication; it's always been an exit-only door for me. No, this is an accurate description of what happened to me yesterday while attempting to transport myself from the Ibero to... Continue Reading →

Puerto Escondido, or the Benefits of Blow

When I studied in Paris, it was through Queens College, and thus I was surrounded in my daily life with other New Yorkers equally, if not more, willing to violently experience all bled out onto the streets and into every cell of the city and its inhabitants. It was a Holy Experience, in that we... Continue Reading →

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