“We are not descended from fearful men,” the box filled with wires and lights says to her as she sits, waiting, on the anniversary. She stares into its eyes. This is the sign . . .
Tag: Angele Sionna
Captain America is cupping my son’s balls this morning.
Yes, you heard me right. Captain America—in full uniform, arms out wide, shield in hand—is spread across my four-year-old’s nuts as we speak . . . because when my son woke up this morning, he walked into the living room, frank and beans in full display on top of his pajama pants. When I inquired about this oddity, he said his pee-pee hurt and begged me to fix it. Of course I agreed to help. What’s a mommy to do? . . .
Featured: Music/Popular Culture/Art
- Drawing Autism
- Of Mule and Man
- The Failure
- Please Don’t Bomb the Suburbs
- In Search of the Lost Chord: 1967, the Peak, Death, and Rebirth of the Hippie Idea
- No One Told Me Not to Do This
- The Immune System
- Will Work for Drugs
- Go de Rass to Sleep
- HNIC (limited edition signed package)
- The Half That’s Never Been Told: The Real-Life Reggae Adventures of Doctor Dread