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…

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…

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…

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…

Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk. Well, Just Chocolate Milk Now.

I, like many of my contemporaries, have made many a dumb drunk decision. Driving other people’s cars while inebriated, 95% of the guys I slept with in 2008, and accepting my admission offer to grad school are three prime examples of alcohol inhibiting judgement and creating alternate realities where common sense is as prevalent as…

I Have the 387931st Best Boyfriend in the World

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and thus my rude return to reality was softened by the fact that I was reunited with the object of my affection. And even though the mere sight of his face after six agonizing days of separation would have satiated all of my desires, I swelled up with even…

┬┐Que Dijiste?: Vacation Gripes (Part II of XII)

So here’s the scene: beachfront bar, sundown in Mexico, and more blondes than the Abercrombie LookBook streaming through the door in heat for their ice cold beers and free shots of mezcal (not worth it). The bartender comes up to Homeboy #13. “Hola, buenas noches. Que le puedo ofrecer?” “Um, yeah, brah, lemme get a…