Archive | May, 2018

Goodbye OKCupid

27 May

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They banned me from OKCupid. I’d say who knows why but you know it was some fat bluehair with a hard on for right wing future van murderers. Their appeal policy is: fuck off. So it’s gone.

I know, it’s no loss. It sucked already. Once they came out with hey look pictures it was doomed. But OKCupid was a market ineffeciency. Nice house in a nice neighborhood an ordinary family could afford. You could get women writing words. A niche. But tech gets better. Money gets involved. Every house on the block bought by GuangFei Light Industrial Technologies or Berkshire fuckin Hathaway. Family trust of New York Times newlyweds Matilda Wong-Rubinstein and Chet von Crackington III. You want a house, you better inherit money. You want ass, you better inherit face. Height frame don’t matter. I’m six one and ripped. Girls just see the met gala photo of Sarah Jessica Parker. Continue reading

Book Review: The Garbage Times by Sam Pink

20 May

sam pink book

When I think of “alt lit” I think of date rape. Tao Lin accused of skin beefs and emotional abuse by his sixteen year old lover who transitioned into a man. I think of the careful looking-up-”important”-in-the-thesaurus apology he’d have to make if it came out now instead of 2014. It’s important that we continue this urgent conversation and absolutely crucial that we believe… and you’d normally say “believe women” except now you’re misgendering. But you don’t want people to skim and think you’re Jerry Sandusky taking sixteen year old boys in the ass, either. What a nightmare. Rape is so, so important, and these accusations always true except now, and I fucked her before she was a man but trust me I believe it’s wrong to point that out… Continue reading

Red Dawn

20 May

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(Previously)

The new bomb punched a hole in the sky. Over the fireball the black cloud ceiling of seething H. R. Giger demon intestines broke open. You could see blue. The blast was up high. Miles and miles East. The sound came half a minute later with heat like a blow dryer too close to your neck. Then quiet. They’d come out of the tent barefoot in the mud, lower halves naked in the cool wet air, peering over the cinder block fence and squinting. Is it safe to look, she said. Continue reading