Author deanna

A knock came on my window yesterday afternoon, the illustrious vectorman was back in the house, consequently, back in my life. To what extent one never knows. I started remembering snowstorms in Brooklyn, torn down loves. trust. fate. Spent much… Continue Reading →

so yea. This new friend. Hanging out with him makes me feel a little less meat-like in terms of the usual come ons and chilling experiences I have encountered in my life…Most of the time, I’ll hang out with someone… Continue Reading →

sitting here, brooklyn. the sun is shining so fucking strong and the skies are clearer and less muddy than usual. I have keys to go to get coffee and come back. I think I might do that in a bit…. Continue Reading →

My summer has been scooting by at an unnatural pace. people people people. situations situations situations. It’s hard for me to really organize what is going on lately in my brain, the way my mind shelves priorities, people, things, into… Continue Reading →

So I was wondering. And we all have the same eternal question burning in our minds…What about the stache, cater lip, hairy upper, what the fuck ever. It freaks me out. Lots of motherfuckers around here seem to think it’s… Continue Reading →

Here are more from Jerome. Photo genius.

I like the rain. I’m not allergic to it. I embrace it. If it were November and icing perhaps I wouldn’t have run out with a tank top and my grandpa’s old blue windbreaker, but still. His windbreaker is wet…. Continue Reading →

I keep promising I will construct this mini mantra of sorts… On one hand we have a pretty empty appartment, needing a good cleaning. The other, a sick little belly. Then there’s Eddie, who keeps calling and calling and calling… Continue Reading →

I I I I…Lately I have been wondering as to my effectiveness and relevance in this whole cyclic pre-apocalyptic bullshit. I wandered northish Sunday early am, attended my sister’s graduation. People at least seemed to pretend that I may have… Continue Reading →

yes yes yes…To clear up any further questions or inquiries as to whether or not I was caught bartending at True for insomniac’s dave atell..And I made him the bitch…Seeing as how I never saw it, it isn’t my 15… Continue Reading →