A Letter of Unconditional Love for My Personal FBI Man

Maybe it started as an obligation to the U.S. government, but I’d like to think our relationship has progressed beyond that. 

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THE HOMESICK MINIVAN

“We loved Kerouac’s Mexico City Blues and Enzo wanted to read the whole book out loud. It took a long time because we got very drunk.”

MY MOTHER’S CIRCUS/HAND-SEWN CARNIVAL

“My grandmother made Christmas ornaments from dried apricots and sugar cookies that she baked with her own hands, a creation upon a creation. They were all tiny women, and she gave them dark hair like us, which felt like a gift to me.”

The Christmas Poop of Catalan

“Whether you think Christmas is shit or Christmas is the shit, when you are Catalan, your Christmas is going to be full of shit. And I mean literally. And no, it doesn’t get that dirty (usually).”

THE BONE YARD- CASE #1

“I still have the yellowed newspaper clipping, the piece of evidence, and the skull wrapped up in an old box in the back of my personal files.”

If You Go Chasing Rabbits

“She rides that mushroom pole and flips upside down, with her legs spread high above her head. Her big blue eyes and red lips are innocence and corruption made flesh.”

The Shit the Bed Blues

“She looked at me and said, “You guys actually don’t suck. And you remind me of Billy Corgan, but with hair. Do you have any pot?”

The Ghosts of Jerking Off: A Christoph Carol

“My laptop was positioned perfectly on my bed. I was looking at Tubegalore.com but I was not sure what topic to pick when I heard a ghostly voice echo in my studio apartment, “Chrisssstoppph, Chrissstoph, do not jerk off. For I am the ghost of jerk off past.”