by Kat of Typographies As a kid, one of my family’s most scintillating excursions out of the cracked concrete meth den of our south Kansas City neighborhood was to a lake a little ways from town called, with typical Midwestern extravagance, Smithville Lake. The drive – three little […]
Oscar Wilde said (sort of) that all we need to do to recapture our youth is keep on fucking up the same ways we did when we were young. Because I think if he were alive today he would appreciate my taste in disco pants and spoiled ne’er-do-well […]
I should call this something alliterative and dopey, like “Pands.” “Lugubrious in Lock-down,” “An Agoraphobic Apocalypse,” “Qualities of a Quagmire in Quarantine,” or some play on an old song like that joke hasn’t been made a million times before. It’s the End of the World as We Know […]
I have spent a lot of my adult life in bars. This is largely because I am an alcoholic, but also because I am a lonely masochist with an obsessive need to observe other human beings. I love, perversely, sitting by myself, eavesdropping on the conversations of strangers […]
I have a certain rule for myself to stave off sentimental aches and obsessive melancholy. I am prone to these turns all year round, but they become acutely annoying in the winter months. It’s mainly the cold weather. I don’t like cold, the sharp stinging snap of wind, […]
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