I’m not sure whether my childhood infatuation with flying things is nature, nurture, or both.
Fat, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life, but it’s not a bad recipe for a weekend.
A recent Atlantic Monthly article suggesting that humans domesticated themselves by killing off the violent males in their midst sparked a short story idea.
So what do I do now that I’ve finished reading six feet of history?
Art about art is often a bit too self-referential, like the Escher drawing of a hand drawing a hand that is drawing the hand that is…you get the picture.
Here’s a playlist I’ve always wanted to make.
My Dating Game story didn’t turn out as good as I hoped, but that’s okay.
This isn’t my first playlist of dream songs.
Seriously, who has time for all of this political bull
I’ve collected things as long as I can remember. Most of those enthusiasms have been short-lived, like my childhood baseball and comic book collections, but some have stuck with me for life. […]