It took a while for me to get used to posting pictures of myself, but I quickly learned that people will scroll past blocks of text. I’m a writer. I don’t exist if you don’t read me.
Age is climbing up on me like kudzu, and I feel like I need a plan for what to do with it.
For many people the influence of Mercury is not an arguable point. They are quite certain they know what they’re talking about.
I should have chum controls on my browser with a pop-up box that warns, “Don’t You Have Something Better To Do?”
I know I should fear an algorithm that doesn’t know the difference between rugs and shoes, but I’m addicted to eye candy.
Whether we accept Edmond Belamy represents something new in art, we must admit he represents something very, very old in human relations: the patriarchy.