Rubber Chicken

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In: Commentary

The brig in Norfolk smelled like bleach, rust, and broken dreams. Damian sat on the lower bunk in his orange jumpsuit, squeezing a squeaky rubber chicken in each fist like they were nunchaku.“That bottle blonde with the toy sword thinks she’s hot shit,” he told the other detainees, who were already trying not to laugh. “Brown belt my ass. What that bitch needs is some sausage and a good spanking. Knock her up. I’m gonna claim her with these sexy rubber chickens.Continue Reading

You DID NOT say THAT! Why Not Gratitude

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Airing grievances at Thanksgiving might feel cathartic, but it’s saltwater masquerading as relief—leaving everyone more parched and bitter. Gratitude and compassion lower stress, build trust, and rewire us for connection, while chronic complaining keeps the brain locked in threat-mode and slowly turns resentment into identity. Keep the table for real honesty wrapped in “we’re in this together,” not a comedy bit that quietly teaches us to weaponize hurt.Continue Reading

Act V Vote Blue

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It’s Wednesday after Mid-Term Election Day 2025. The Democrats swept. Because . . . Trump. The Wicked Wizard is dead. Salmon Voldemort vanquished. We exhale. Act V went the way we wanted. 28 states voted. Virginia and New Jersey flipped blue. Mamdani took New York City. California passed Prop 50—becauseContinue Reading

Vacuuming the Beach This is the Way

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OUTRAGED! Been trying that. The machine grinds on. Marched, posted, and branded. Plus ca change plus ce la meme chose. We demanded removal, reckoning, to engender utopia. And then we went home. The institutions remained and the algorithms adapted.
The regular rhythm endures. Sunrise, sunset, mewling babe to fading elder. A vacuum hums while the kittens sleep. This is the Way.Continue Reading