And then I found Chad, or Clive. He’d gotten tired of his routines in the app world—the arranging gangbangs and then collecting testimonials kind of thing. He was ready for something different, and like I said, it’d been a good run.… More

And then I found Chad, or Clive. He’d gotten tired of his routines in the app world—the arranging gangbangs and then collecting testimonials kind of thing. He was ready for something different, and like I said, it’d been a good run.… More

He couldn’t help but clean his teeth at his desk with a straightened paperclip, not even realizing he was doing it, soothed by the addictive scraping, unaware of those watching him. A nickname that stuck for years after, the grooves still in his enamel.… More
When you told your current girlfriend, the girl you’re trying to turn into your third ex, that you have a traumatic brain injury, she said, “I hate football. It’s stupid and toxic and anti-feminist.”… More
I took those Precious Moments angels out to the red clay driveway and lined them up like killers facing a firing squad. I aimed my Hellcat 9mm straight at their soulful saucer eyes and blasted their innocence into a pile of porcelain, shattering their skulls just the way they had shattered mine.… More
I whispered to her, “You’re like a dead catbird to me.” It just came out. I’m out of control sometimes. But I did love a dead catbird once. When something’s dead and you feel an ache for it, that’s love.… More
Cleaning, fillings, whitening—Heck! Even crowns, bridges, and implants! One last good fuck at corporate with a three-thousand-dollar copay and a two-week sick leave.… More
To deliver Russia’s most advanced submarine to America, Captain Boris Zardoz beats the political officer into a stupor with a dozen kicks to the face, stashes the rat bastard Commie in one-of-two bathrooms, and keeps the crew of 160 away with an out-of-order sign.… More
Call me Gerry the Cancer. All I need to do is get completely meth’d up and have someone film me screaming in a parking lot with an enormous jar of figs under my arm, and a sore asshole. Comment section loot here I come!… More
I didn’t want to change time. I just wanted to tickle it. It didn’t take much: Pick a putridity. Pick a time. And back it goes.… More
Dave is chiseled by the gods. Hotter than the fires of hell. He’s golden from head to toe, from the shaggy waves of his wolf cut to the sun-licked glow of his skin, the same color as the fried chicken he was raised on.… More
They don’t call it an IQ test but they don’t call anything what it is since the Research came out. Except for Taco Bell.… More