Category: Investigation
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Submitted For Your Approval

Inside a house far back from the street dwells a man with a cross to bear. He’s an even-tempered man, albeit a very reclusive man, who may or may not dose himself with MDMA, psychotherapy-style. If we could see through his curtains, which are perpetually closed, we would see him reading by the fire. In…
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Filthy Confessions

“What’s your fanta-ta-ta-sy?” -Ludacris The first adult film I ever watched was called “Naughty Fantasies,” or something like that, from Baby Doll Productions. I found it in a CD case for Now That’s What I Call Music: Volume 18 that my college roommate left lying around. She was out of town when I made the…
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Doomed Chemistry

Ever have a crush on someone from afar? Someone you only know a little bit, but they seem like your “type”? Well, I did. It’s 10 pm and I’m driving to Murray’s house. Porch lights flick on as I drive down his street. I pull to the curb. It’s still open-window weather, and I overhear…
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It Started With A Syringe
I was at work the other day and ended up having a conversation about losing your virginity. Believe it or not, I wasn’t the one who brought it up. “I was thirteen,” my co-worker, Ginnifer with the Blue Mani, said. “I was fifteen,” said Shelby with the Mauve Lip Liner. “And I’ve been on birth…
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Memories of Last Weekend

I’m a nymphomaniac courtesan at Motel 6 on Niagara Falls Boulevard making predictions about love. There’s no better place to write about romance than a seedy motel. It’s where you can spark up some pcp, listen to the night’s heavy breathing, dip into the ink and sink into your thoughts. My adventures in the name…
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WTF R U TALKING ABOUT: VOL. 1
Thank you to all the men who send me messages on Facebook. Please don’t stop! Whether it’s to discuss their relationships, sex lives, or secretive forays into bisexuality, I had no idea my blog would resonate so well with men. I’m blessed to learn what I have about the male mind, which is… that…
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Working the Corner in Niagara Falls

It’s 11:40 a.m. and four old men are collected, like a clump of fungus, in the parking lot of the corner 7-11. They hold 40 oz. Ballentine’s Ales in dirty, gloved grips and discuss an impending “disability check.” When I walk by, coughs and groans bubble from their raspy throats. It’s been a long time…
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Splitting the Bill in a Post-Feminist World
First dates are like fire drills – sometimes they are real, but most of the time they are false alarms, but we are still lucky to get out of them alive. I’m moving up from not introducing my boyfriends to my parents to completely not telling anyone I’m going on a date at all. I…


