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Author’s Note: I spent the weekend with my favorite people. We ate and drank and laughed and smoked and bickered and bowled and drove and walked through the woods where I saw turkey and deer and bones and bloodied hawk feathers and frogs (I even caught one but I let...

One night, I cut myself. The next day, I was institutionalized. Twenty years later, I’m still trying to thread together the in between. I remember meeting with my music teacher because Rob snitched to him after he saw the blood on my hand and I implored him to do otherwise...

Ed. Note: Okay so, yeah. I was about to play up some sort of bullshit objectivity here because that’s…um…fun? I don’t know. What I do know is that for all my twists and tails and tasteless avant anti major underground uber alles proclivities I have never, ever, EVER been able...