drugs

The Asia Fail

*This piece may have appeared on the web once or twice before, but we’re publishing it again here because we likes it, yes we do.

by Mr. Motgol

In the Old World, people went to the New World to start anew. Once America became settled, folks would head “out West” to shake away their demons, with destinations such as California and Alaska luring folks with promises of riches and rebirth. These were places where no one cared about your history or imperfect past. You were given a clean slate, and only as good as your current effort.


The Girl Who Peed In Her Shoe

by Mr. Motgol

I met her at Al’s Bar, which was the greatest place in LA, as far as I was concerned. It was a haven–a shelter from the nauseating, status-obsessed banality that made up so much of the city’s night life–an exquisite dive full of honest, friendly people, with live punk rock music seven nights a week. The music booker was a smiling lesbian named “Toast.” That tells you all you need to know.


Out of My League

hollywood_sign3

OUT OF MY LEAGUE


One More Fix

Last week I was sitting at a table in our resort room in Mui Ne, Vietnam, relaxing in my t-shirt and shorts as the sun crept down the horizon. The doors to the expansive terrace were open, and from my seat I could see palm trees, the roofs of the seaside village’s many hotels and guesthouses, and just beyond that, the wind-whipped sea. The setting was idyllic and I sipped from a glass of 333 Beer with a fresh lime squeezed and floating inside. My wife lay on the bed next to me, attempting to master the latest game on her smart phone (something about ordering servants to grow corn and water your magic mushrooms), and the ocean air blew through the white walled space, making everything smell salty, clean, and good. At that particular moment, I was a content man.


ONE MORE FIX

Last week I was sitting at a table in our resort room in Mui Ne, Vietnam, relaxing in my t-shirt and shorts as the sun crept down the horizon. The doors to the expansive terrace were open, and from my seat I could see palm trees, the roofs of the seaside village’s many hotels and guesthouses, and just beyond that, the wind-whipped sea. The setting was idyllic and I sipped from a glass of 333 Beer with a fresh lime squeezed and floating inside. My wife lay on the bed next to me, attempting to master the latest game on her smart phone (something about ordering servants to grow corn and water your magic mushrooms), and the ocean air blew through the white walled space, making everything smell salty, clean, and good. At that particular moment, I was a content man.


The Week We View: All the news that's fit to miss

>Been much ado this week about Ashton Kucher beating CNN in a race for being the first with one million followers on Twitter. Does this mean that Kucher is the biggest twit?>The Bush administration's torture memos were released this week. My favorite entry thus far: "Today while water boarding a suspected terrorist I dropped my new pen into the water tub and accidentally gouged suspect's eye.

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