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I need a break from yelling about the troubles of the world. For all our utopian urges, our itch to turn it all into glass and start over, our seasonal flip from overtly, insanely socialist to just a little socialist, troubles seem to hang around. I’m weary of the goodContinue Reading

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I took a break from scrubbing the carpet in my living room to type this. Alien puke smells worse than human puke. Robert, who on a whim decides s/he’s Roberta, is asleep in his (?her?) S-10 pickup at the curb outside my house. I have a hard time telling theContinue Reading