News — night worms

I have been a fan of literature that challenges me from a young age. It was sometime during my sophomore year in high school that I decided to dip my toes in the obscure waters of philosophy and social sciences. I convinced myself that it was fun and made me look far more evolved than my fellow student body to be reading Nietzsche and Machiavelli rather than actually enjoying some Harry Potter. It wasn’t until my Humanities instructor pulled me aside and attempted to strike up a conversation about an annotated passage from...

She liked her men like she liked her coffee: weak, milky, lukewarm. Which summed up me well. I've got all the character of a whiny door hinge. I blame my mother for breastfeeding me too long. But we aren't talking about my mother, unless you're one of those shrinks that think everything is an Oedipus thing. We're talking about Sally Soledad, my lover and leashholder, who was right at this moment doing her best to melt me onto her scuffed mahogany floorboards.

“How many times have I told you to refill the ice when you’re finished?”...