Thanks Mom.

On coffee

Me: I need coffee.

Her: You like coffee? I didn’t know that.

Me: I do. You?

Her: I love the smell, but I think it tastes too bitter. Deceptive coffee. Goes entirely against the ‘if it smells good, put it in your mouth’ rule.

Tonight’s date.



do you have any photos of yourself on here?

I do not. I’m not very photogenic. 

Went to Cuba: Day One

Last month, I went to Cuba for six days with two pals. Here, in a long read, is our first day. 

“You sure this is all we need?” Hercules fingered the thin envelope containing the physical representation of two months of extensive planning. Inside, airfare to Havana, tourist visas, hotel and transfer confirmations peeked out. We stared quizzically at the assorted documents, oblivious to the bustle of Cancun’s airport around us. “I sure fucking hope so. Praying Leydi didn’t screw us,” I shrugged. Hercules flicked the documents. “Looks legit. And it’s nice to know we didn’t send money to a Mexican drug cartel,” he quipped.

His concern was valid. In the days prior, we’d each wired a thousand dollars to a Mexican travel agent, Leydi, to assist us in booking Hercules’ illegal bachelor party to Cuba. It had been a tenuous exchange because she spoke little English and my Spanish is limited to finding a bano and uno mas cerveza, por favor. We blindly trusted this woman I found on the Internet, and whose sporadic email updates were laconic at best. (The entirety of one such missive: I THINK N O PROBLEM WITH  HOTELS. I WORKING FOR GET ONE  MORE AIR PLAN SEAT.  PLEASE WAIT ME.) Options were limited, though. We could either book through an agent such as Leydi, or go to Cancun’s airport and deal with a Cuban airline directly. However, there’s only one flight into Havana per day and it could take days to get on it and none of us were jazzed to wait it out in Mexico’s version of Vegas.

Such were the travails of planning a jaunt to a country where Americans are forbidden to travel. The reality of the moment descended upon us as we stood in line to check into our Air Cubana flight to paradiso.

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My nephew, after he peed on the floor repeatedly.

Where’s the craziest place you’ve ever had sex?

Feels like this today

Feels like this today

My father is a wise man.