I leaned forward from the couch and took the burning nub of joint from his outstretched hand. We called him Dub because his name was Lazarus Livingston—Double L.

I
ăamai•ṗo'yii

***this is for all those wicked NDN bros out there up at ONE AM on a FUCKIN TUESDAY who are thinking about doing that thing they thought about doing for a long time but never had the fuckin COURAGE OR NUTS to do every one of you pricks every one of you cocksuckers knows what im about right now specially those bros who are FUCKED UP in that GOOD FUCKIN WAY the way i am right now ho jokes im plum gutdamn sober haha jokes i aint and you know this maaaaaaan i know you are out there right now really wanting to know what is going on in my life so here it is you BITCH that is the purpose of a site like this enit to share what is going on in our lives it is even right there in the button thing “click share you fuckin asshole” so fuck yeah you bet your bottom white man dollar im gonna share what is going on in the life of one WAYNE “FLURRY” WINTER THUNDER JR that guy who is your all time hero class of 15 fkn rulez that one youre always dreaming about the one with THA BIGGEST NUTZ hahaha enittttttttt i jokes i aint a queer quit lookin at my nutz haha also sister and mom and my 72 AUNTIES haha 4real2 im sorry you got to see this but u need to SEE HOW IT REALLY IS with her i know i been telling u for years but now u will “REALLY SEE IT”

and just one more thing there is one thing i really need to say so all those naa-bee-ko-akes i made “friends” with during that one and a half semesters of school in clarkston before i realized i didnt need no white man school to tell me how life is every one of those fuckers can just get off this DICK haha jk jk fuck i love those white men who know everything and are always ready to tell us about us well how about this motherfucker how about i tell YOU something about US hayz im just FUCKIN around this aint even for you but you can listen in bcuz YOUR GONNA ANYWAY ENIT and when its all over with you can go write a paper about it haha i remember how you looked at me “professor hadley” when i told you in class you didnt know what you were even talking about and im telling you again just like i did in your office that one day after you failed me that you dont know nothing about this place you dont know fuckin NOTHIN but there you are gettin paid those good white man dollars to talk about us and tell ndns like ME that you know but i dont know.. and how fucked is that you fuckin bitch so just check this out you want to see something real ima show you what the “REAL REZ” is about and you can write whatever you want just make sure to put my picture next to it but make sure its that one good photo of me from when i was a firefighter two summers ago before i failed that WHITE MAN drug test and found myself in a “difficult situation” haha and yeah i know i didnt do most of the “work” for that class hadley but i dont fuckin care bcuz how does a ndn fail a ndn studies class haha peace out 4 real tho hey..

He is swimming downhill, backward through time. 

At the orangutan dome the grandfather purchases a plastic cup in the shape of an orangutan head. He offers his grandson a sip. Then he slips behind a tree with the cup and afterwards the boy isn’t allowed to drink from it.

In my twenties, when I got hard-ons all the time, sometimes for no good reason, as though in a vacuum, I might have gone for someone like her. 

It was a few weeks before Easter that Hadji read the cards for Levon Dai. “My heart is pulling for a sheep’s head stew,” she said one night after dinner. “It is eight years since I had kuluk, not since we left Cyprus, after the exile.” 

Belle had a scar on the third finger of her left hand. She was twenty-nine and unmarried—twice.

The revolution is coming, Rhys says so, and it’ll be just like we always dreamed: blood, streets. First day in Yangon, time- lagged and tongue-tied from my trip across the Atlantic. “Things will be changing soon,” Rhys says. “The situation is not stable.” His accent is hard to figure. The words rise liquid from his quivering paunch. “What part of Australia is he from?” I ask an Aussie. “The drunk part,” the Aussie says.

Their standard pattern of operation involved making a sum of money, losing it, and then starting over.

I was the kind of thirty year old who had only recently left adolescence behind. I was mostly a modern dancer. I rehearsed, I went to class. I worked the concession stand in an art-movie theater where actors and filmmakers ushered.