Surely, the best time for a parent to just give up and kill themselves is the moment when they realize that they raised an asshole. And once you've realized the steps you actively took that inadvertently made him that way, you might as well just open the window and somersault out...
Somewhere halfway through my customary sad-salad lunch (not even that bad: spinach, boiled eggs, avocado, and chicken if I'm feeling luxurious), I decided enough is enough.
I do this to myself, I know.
Admittedly, Colin Nissan's I Work From Home piece for The New Yorker is genius, but I'm going to go one deeper, into the dark depravity that is working from your pajamas. Because I ruin everything. I honestly don't know how I've managed to keep myself alive since I left my office job last September. Enabler… Continue reading Life of Fran: A Freelancer Story
Me: "Am I disgusting?" Conscience: "Who cares?" Me: "OK!" I was walking through Park Slope with my dear friend Enabler Dan when we came across a cardboard box full of crap on the sidewalk. Among that crap was a massive wine glass with measurements along the bowl and its boot (that's educated wine-speak for the… Continue reading WINO FOREVER
I am tired. I'm tired of resolutions, and celebrating, and empty sentiments, and I am 1000 DONE with good intentions that fart their way out of existence because of lack of hustle from broke-ass scrubs (who definitely are not me).
I’m kind of banking on a phoenix-birthing renaissance in 2017, especially after the landfill inferno that was mine and this nation’s year in 2016. I went home to California for Christmas break with one objective in mind: heal...and bum off my sisters. I pulled out all my workout gear from under the bed, untouched for over… Continue reading Broken Bitch