7% off wastebaskets

SIXTY-NINE

Meet Egon Blue, a young man who survives by fabricating petty scams, the most daring of which mimics his defunct family trade: a crematory business. After an unexpected tragedy forces him back home, Egon begins collecting dead pets, which he promises to urn, but simply buries in the shallow ditches of Swanton Township. Follow Egon's sweet but scrambled adolescence, his forbidden loves, and his battle to transcend a terrible family mistake, which, despite himself, he feels compelled to repeat. He opened his mouth to say something, but then clamped it shut again with a pissy grimace.  Understanding that I’d be sleeping in his basement for the next week, he promptly gave me a house chore.  I spent the next half-hour emptying wastebaskets into one big trash bag.  Once the bag was full, I walked it to the curb.  Past the end of the driveway, I saw Gil’s car, sitting.  He had parked across the street, his motor running.  My stomach tumbled to my balls,...

Repost: I Don’t Need My Toothbrush to Entertain Me

Of choices. It takes me at least 30 minutes to look at them all. I have a few simple, unalienable requirements: Soft bristles, small head, and on sale. It’s silly to pay five dollars for a toothbrush. Five dollars can buy a triple white chocolate mocha. Let’s not confuse our priorities.

Toothbrushes are a good example of a grander irritation of mine in respect to grocery consumerism. It can’t just be a “toothbrush.” It has to have sparkly packaging and it has to be NEW in some way, or IMPROVED in some other way. The speed of toothbrush technological advancement is such that every 3 or 4 or 5 months when I get a new toothbrush, I have a bunch of new choices I didn’t have before. Toothbrushes are evolving at such a breakneck pace, we must have brushed with twigs and rocks as children.

And the toothbrush can’t just brush my teeth, it has to massage my gums also, or scrape my tongue. My dirty, dirty tongue. And somehow, it seems important that toothbrushes look all aggressive and athletic. Like, “We’re fucking brushing our teeth over here, motherfucker!”