Do you ever get so flustered in social interactions that you bring up the only conversation topic that you are remotely knowledgeable and confident in speaking about and it’s usually serial killers? No? That’s just me? “I grew up in Boulder. JonBenét Ramsey was murdered
Maybe I am incomprehensible, hellish, messed up—definitely doomed. Maybe I am a little destructive and simply just a wreck of a person. Maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about. But it’s a new year and I have never been one for New Year’s resolutions;
I’ve been pondering “higher-powers” a lot lately. I was raised lightly Jewish—by lightly I mean my Israeli parents didn’t care to take us to synagogue, really ever—but I have indeed dabbled in witchcraft which brings me to Satanism! No, I am not a Satanist, but
I’m on the list,” I say not so surreptitiously to the grumbling face behind scratched up, filthy glass. A little surge of superiority floods my brain whenever I say it. I feel cool, like a VIP ghoul, like maybe I’m kind of important. “Can I
When I was 17, I spent the summer in Brooklyn attending Pratt’s pre-college program having the pseudo-art school experience. I functioned on very little sleep and a lot of coffee. I didn’t sleep for two days, my pupils were the size of pies, and I
It is midnight on Dec. 31, 2010, I’m 14 and you are whatever age you were seven to eight years ago. I am practically infused with the sweaty teens and post-grads around me, all desperately reaching over the two-foot barricade, hoping their arms might grow
Stiv Bators was born on Oct. 22, 1949. He was the unsung hero of CBGBs, the devastatingly underrated frontman of the seminal punk band, The Dead Boys and later The Lords of the New Church. Stiv died in the most punk-rock, albeit tragic way. In
When I was in elementary school, I wanted to be a writer, and I took this very seriously. I proclaimed to my father that I would go to Columbia because it had the best college-level writing program. I was 10. Needless to say, things didn’t
I wish I was 21 in 1977. When Stiv Bators was still alive, Richard Hell was still hot, and I didn’t have to spend so much money on vintage T-shirts that would have been brand new back then. When the music was still raw and
I am wearing my boyfriend’s paper-thin, baby bunny soft, blood stained (I’m not sure whose) vintage Circle Jerks T-shirt. I am curled up in front of my space heater that keeps shutting down my surge protector—I just wait a few seconds and turn that baby back