A note on the site:
I’m still going to post here, but I’m posting most new material on the Substack first. It’s $5 a month if you sign up for a year.
I knew a poet who converted to Orthodox Judaism. Litvak, the Ben Shapiro kind where you wear a suit and yarmulke. Not the big forelocks. But you still can’t turn off the lights on Saturday.
He’d always been looking for something. God’s the thing you’re looking for. First you try everything else. He got into Jordan Peterson. Before God got to him. Brazilian jiu-jitsu. Then a cool rabbi moved to the East Side and hosted dinner parties. Young people want to get married. They’d meet each other at the rabbi’s house.
He learned Hebrew. Exegeted ancient texts with the rabbi’s study group. If a woman falls off the roofline of her house, onto a man’s penis, has he committed adultery. If an ox escapes into your barn have you committed theft. Old Jews argued in scrolls. New Jews argued over old arguments. There was music to it. God was there between the words. Between the men.
There was a woman. She was 32. A Silverlake party girl. She’d drunk like him. Did coke like him. Slip and dips at Red Lion and Cha Cha Lounge. Life getting darker and sicker like it does. The rabbi matched them. The rabbi sets you up and you go on five dates. You can’t text in between. After each date the rabbi asks: would you like to see her again. After date five you get married.
They got married. Dipped their challah in honey. He introduced her at a party. She wouldn’t shake my hand. I have a cold, she said. I didn’t get it till later.
He loved her. She cooked dinner, he worried about money. They’d have a child soon.
The woman had a Filipino aunt. Who’d married into her Jewish family and converted. The aunt somehow looked at his paychecks. His bank statements. Like the men looked at their scrolls. Satan between the numbers. Between the women. She raised an alarm with her family. This man would stay poor.
They got to her. She asked for a Get. 8 months after they married he was back alone. She was back sucking dick.
Writing this, I looked for an Old Testament text about a wicked wife.
I found the Book of Hosea. It talks about marrying a whore. But really it’s about Israel. Whoredom and wine and must take away the heart. Thistles shall grow in thy furrows. God will punish you. But God loves you. And you’ll be redeemed.
Beautiful. I hope that’s it.
But what if it’s Job. A book about a bet. Remember who won.
delicioustacos 
Why do you assume we are devout Christian or Jews and read the fucking Bible?
What happens in Job, you faggot?
Imagine paying 5 dollars a month for this. You’d have to have a lethal case of sugma of the ligma
Imagine writing for a decade only to get worse at it.
Shalom, this is your Rabbi speaking. Just post stuff you are 100% certain is great and worthy of payment to the substack. Paying readers are more valuable and they appreciate you more, despite the fact that it was free posts that eventually built your fanbase and book-buyer audience. That was the past. Things have changed now. It’s not 2013 anymore. Squeeze as much money out of everyone, at all times. If someone doesn’t want to pay or buy a book, he doesn’t exist.
he should also charge a fee to leave comments. too many spammers and disrespectful jerks have left mean comments over the years. it’s completely preventable.
didn’t realise it until now, but del tacos is the IRL embodiment of the bob harris character from lost in translation.
>I HAVE A SIX FIGURE JOB
>HOT YOUNG PUSSY FALLS IN MY LAP
>I LIVE IN SUNNY SOCAL
>I HAVE HEALTH AND RELATIVE E-FAME
>AAAAAHH!!! I’m LOSING MY FUCKIN MIND! OH GAWD MY LIFE FUCKIN SUCKS!!!!!!
dumbfuck ungrateful retard. you’re like the goldfish swimming in clean fresh water and doesn’t know it. “wtf is water?”
whinyass weak bitch. i wouldn’t read your substack if someone paid me $1000 per hour. if alec baldwin pointed a loaded revolver at my skull and demanded i read your writing i’d tell him to pull the trigger.
DT will never know how bad it is to be born non-white unless he experienced it firsthand, which is impossible. Imagine having parents who don’t speak English, who can barely navigate the advanced Western world. That’s right, you can only imagine, but never know what it’s like from real experience. We’re all trapped in our minds and bodies, and thus we’re all ungrateful to a certain extent. A mexican born in Texas is generally better off and seen as more privileged than a mexican born in the slums of Tijuana. The grass always appears greener. That poet who got some jewish pussy for a couple years ended up miserable and divorced, but that time he showed up at a restaurant with his hot slutty jewish wife, the incel waiter was probably envious. We’re all here to suffer unless we make some smart decisions. Stop suffering. Stop comparing yourself to others (a losing move). Start living life with full control over each decision. DT already set a good example by taking control of many aspects of his life.
The man ran with AA and actually became an institutional member. Although, a mitigating factor is he has not posted about that cult for a while now. Let’s not even address the pet obsession. The man is 50 years old.
You sucked dick on coke. You’re an old gay loser.
You’re a white-haired, whiny faggot with a twink build.
I thought I’d leave an anonymous comment that wasn’t calling you gay or a bad writer.
I enjoy your writing DT, I am glad to see you’re still at it.