misery tourism

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We’re Faking It But We’ll Never Make It

I’ve been on that site for just over a year, to promote the first essay he wrote for me to own. I followed

One of the happiest days of my life occurred during the Winter of 1973.

You’d considered skipping your usual meet-up with Buddy tonight.

The above video is an archive of the latest edition of the Misery Loves Company social reading series.

The more a death-rock girl’s structural integrity crumbles, the heavier she applies her foundation.

The boat is not large, but there are four people in it. One of them is me; the other three are making a movie.

Brennan is drunk.

The above video is an archive of the latest edition of the Misery Loves Company social reading series.

I went past him on the bus. I could only see his feet, but I knew it was a him.

“Cecil the Lion died of auto-erotic asphyxiation,”