I once saw Lou Reed on a bicycle. No, it wasn’t a hallucination. That I’m aware of at least. It was 2007 and I had just graduated college. Unemployed with not much to do, I spent my time wandering aimlessly around the city while applying for jobs at the precipice of the 2008 subprime mortgage-induced … Continue reading
*cronch cronch cronch* Oh! *cough* What’s that? I’m just trying to eat my way through a mega-sized box of Valentine’s hearts. Why? Because we have to support small businesses in times like these, including choking down all the dry and chalky drug store candy hearts we can stomach! What else is there to do on … Continue reading
Why hello there, dearest Filthy Dreams readers! What’s that? What’s this? It’s yet another perhaps ill-advised foray into other writing styles. Like my Filthy Fictions from 2014, I was inspired–this time by the proliferation of content warnings on social media. While trigger warnings began with more understandable notifications about sexual assault or pedophilia, they’ve now ballooned … Continue reading
There was a lot of joy in my life last night, and it wasn’t just the home-brewed lager at Rockbar NYC. The happy hour promoted Big Joy, a documentary on the life of poet and filmmaker James Broughton. Continue reading