Contemplate This While I’m Breathing Your Exhaust

Now and then as I’m cycling along the streets of Atlanta, a motorist will honk at me. I can see only two reasons for this: 1. I look so fetching in that styrofoam helmet, you just couldn’t resist blaring your Danger! signal at my sexy abs. Thanks for sharing. 2 (and more likely). You don’t like that my slow-moving bicycle is taking up space on your precious asphalt. There are a few reasons that I might be riding in the road, other than the sadistic pleasure of pissing you off. Atlanta’s sidewalks are entirely unpredictable. They’re often cracked and broken,… tell me more

Call Your Mom

I always say that you never hear more lies than at a funeral. “It was just her time,” or “she was ready,” or “I wish I knew her better.” It seems like the truth lives in the jags of silence. There was that kind of silence when he pushed her body into the crematorium oven and all I could think was, “He’ll never see her face again.” I don’t do well with silence. It takes everything for me to keep my lips sealed, to the point that when I am quiet people usually ask me what’s wrong. So funerals can… tell me more