There is still a woman in the Miami area who uses my email for everything. I’ve even received her completed tax documents from her accountant and was told to “disregard” when I replied to it. It’s been over ten years. My name isn’t even Alicia.

I believe it was just a hint or some kind of encouragement in regards to the problem I was working on. Hard to remember. I just recall that warm breath in my ear canal and the most intense boner of my childhood.

Every time I hear the word, I remember seeing a large, barn-like girl on a Nickelodeon gameshow shout, “YO, I’M FROM DA MIDWEST AND I CAN HANDLE ANYTHIN!” to loud applause.

I’ve always struggled to like raw tomatoes. They are warm and pungent, like opening a garbage receptical in the summer heat.

I remember in Grade 2 my teacher whispered something in my ear during a test and I got hard as a fucking rock.

“WRONG MOVE, BUSTAH!”

Not a terrible idea. I’ve been here for a decade and I’ve yet to try it, and never really intended to seek one out.

Elite Dangerous

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Except all the black ones already have a fat creampie inside.

As an (expat) American I have always felt a desire to connect with my heritage and experience the old world, despite never having the chance to. It feels crazy to me that people are overseas living where so much history played out, walking old streets past ancient walls and buildings, and often within a short journey to Neolithic sites and old ruins. There are quiet men herding sheep in a windswept field with mossy rock formations just chilling over there beside their prized lamb, Ollie. Americans removed themselves from all of that and over a couple of centuries it became something mythical and out of reach. We are essentially cut off from our own heritage, and are strangers to our own people, but we’ve been brought up in a culture that makes us quite alien to them when we do make the pilgrimage.

It’s kind of a sad thing, but I’ve been away from America long enough to understand why Europeans are so put off. Even the most left-leaning Americans need a lot of de-programming. I know I did. Now when my mother visits I am hyper-aware of how different we have become.

“I have mild diarrhea. What is the best way to dispose of a human body?”

He was better as the beast.

That’s fucking bad ass!

Why would Vietnam be paying the tariff on Vietnamese goods going into the US? I swear the definition of a tariff changes every time I see it mentioned.

You think they’ll pray when the masses eventually drag them out of the chambers?

Don’t feed the Yao Guai!

I’ve never thought I was dying on psychedelics, but many times on THC and once on MDA. The MDA was probably the only one of these instances where I was in any real danger. My cat helped me through that one.

Wow… She looks remarkably like my mom’s old horse, Soondy/Soondie (not sure which spelling was correct). She had to give her up in the early '00s and donated her to a YMCA camp in Michigan, but I genuinely doubt that horse is still around. The name, appearance and possible age certainly gave me pause.