Dear Shitty Mom: That’s right. I said it. You’re a shitty mom. And an even worse human being. I get it, Shitty. You’re tired. Your hole is blown out from fisting, lounging on the toilet (lid up) for countless hours while you give yourself a “home pedicure” and the ravages of gravity. Your other hole is blown out, (see: above stated reasons + years spent as drug mule/professional felching instructor.) Whoever was so stoned he forgot to pull out and blow a load on your face (a.k.a. your absent baby daddy/one time life guru) is no help. You have to … Continue reading DEAR SHITTY MOM


Dear Peasants: As the politically turbulent year of 2017 draws to a close, I have but one simple wish. That we, as a nation, can put aside our differences and band together to banish the ultra pretentious and mind numbingly empty phrase “MASTER CLASS” from our collective vocabulary. First of all, what, exactly, IS a master class? Never mind that the phrase sounds like the precise description of racial or gender domination by one group over all others. A class where you can go so some asshole can tell you why he is a “master” at life! Which basically requires … Continue reading DEAR PEASANTS 


DEAR REFU-SHES: I get it. One minute, you’re on top of the world, snacking on moldy bread crusts you found in a hole under your dead neighbor, and the next, your dreams are shattered as you are cruelly, temporarily, maybe, possibly, denied entry into a country you have never been to, know nothing about and have zero right to live in. Then, suddenly, the moldy bread crust is rendered a death sentence. Even if it’s just temporary. I mean, you didn’t think it was a death sentence before. You were fine with it. But now that you’re not getting your … Continue reading  DEAR REFU-SHES: