The mini-half fridge in my apartment has two kinds of water staring me in the face, bubbly and flat and only the wilted cilantro wedged between the hand-pressed organic mustard seed mustard and the very un-organic high in cholesterol Best Foods brand mayo in its squeezable tube resemble anything edible. The cantaloupe has been there...

    Ah, that comfortable tinkling sound as the ice cubes flow to one side of the coffee mug and who’d a thought that the Scotch Whiskey of years past would be replaced with the Ther-a-flu of today? No longer “medicating one’s self” in the language of addiction, but actually medicating one’s self in a...

    It’s just 10:53 pm and my neighbors are already jumping around like the drug crazed infidels that they truly are—though at the moment a little bit more than usual, and no doubt dancing that forbidden dance of the Voodoo while ritual-sacrificing some warm blooded beast to last night’s full moon. I can already...

Long lost was the cap to the toothpaste, down the spiral of the drain and lodged against the honed steel fang of the garbage disposal. Demise awaits, nibbling the tips-o-me-fingers as I crammed the straining stubbies into its orifice, the rubber apron lips a minute obstacle to an impending view of destruction. Contemplating suicide the...