Tag Archives: Butthole Surfers

someone muttering bummer

Jodhpurs & Jujyfruits There are blocks everyday. People die everyday. There is gothic organ music swelling and ebbing in the ether. There is someone muttering “bummer” nearby and the smell of acrid pot wafting on an eddy of warm wind … Continue reading

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rag and bone

The Tug of Ghosts It seemed to her she was always leaving, or someone was leaving her. Her father disappeared one day when she was ten. Her mother disappeared into a fog of alcohol and mental illness the next year—and … Continue reading

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