Category Archives: Issue 4: Panic


by Mara Miller

it’s the kinda night that leaves you alone, in the tv room, smoking a bowl with a grill lighter.
yea. that kind of night.
and as you sit there, trying to coordinate the push down with the click, you realize, this is all you will ever have. and just as you are about to fall down a rabbit hole of depression and whoa-is-mes, it hits you.
like a ton of bricks, it hits you.

Throwback Thursday Article #1: The ABCs of Joss Whedon

The TBT hashtag rules with an ironfist on Instagram every Thursday. It’s impossible not to look at your feed and see awkward photos of years past, undoubtedly originally taken on a disposable camera (we hate the dreaded picture of a picture post…not that we’re not guilty of it ourselves). We had a thought here at

Continue reading

Celebrity Verses Poetry: Choupette Lagerfeld

Spoiled Pussies (written about hearing that Karl Lagerfeld’s cat is fronting a makeup line) Our pet, Choupette! The anointed cat queen of fashion, Karl Lagerfeld’s own pussy has her own makeup line! Huzzah ye graceless apes, a touch of the female feline has descended to add mystery, grace, and disdain to animal-tested, Choupette-approved cosmetics. Oh,

Continue reading

Burial Options

Burial Options
by Kyle Lucia Wu

Sometimes I do climb to the roof, out of my fire escape and up the rickety black ladder that does not look supportive. I stare at the skyline from my perch in Queens. New York is so elusive. You can only see its beauty once you leave.

You Don’t Have to Listen to Be a Good Friend

I’m seemingly free from having to process the minutia of conversations, and can focus on the important elements of the situation: the happiness, the anger, the frustration, the hand gestures and vocal intonations, the jubilation, the sadness, or the crusted booger on the upper lip.

Pumping Gas

A short story by Bill Vernon

He filled the car’s gasoline tank, spoke with the lady, took money from her, came inside, rang up the sale, put a dozen square plastic packages from one of the boxes into a brown paper sack, and held the sack up. “She wanted Trojan regulars.”