teenage years in south florida during the housing boom.

There was also the remarkable quiet, such that if a Maltese barked softly at one side of the neighborhood, it would wake up the leathery middle-aged divorcee sunning at the community pool on the other.

the ugliness of the created world.

A fly’s life is entirely filth. He and all nature’s other decomposers are there to remove out of sight what you can’t bear to look at. They’re a lot like funeral directors, in that way.

sad bureaucratic rooms, paranoid white millennials, and the importance of dirty jokes.

These are the type of white millennial who will only host their personal blog on the dark web. If you ask this type of white millennial what his favorite animal is, he’ll lie, just to cover his tracks.