Previously on slowpainful dot com...

A Forced March Into an Already-Old New Year

Lockdown lunacy, a challenge for Nicole—and Trump’s “come-as-dumb-as-you-are” farewell party, with sparklers. I’M PANDEMICKED, WHO ARE YOU? ARE you Pandemicked, too? Did you awaken this morning, as I did, with a stone for a heart, and emitting a groan that echoed through the inner city like twelve ambulances en route

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“Maksim Gorky Pretends to be a Dom at the Bathhouse”

A serious(ly gay) interlude. After a few sleepless nights of quasi-Christian prayer (I cherry pick all the heart-warming bits and the foodie miracles and leave out the whole crucifixion-resurrection boondoggle; anything icky like leprosy; the Book of Revelation; everything by Saint Paul, and Satan, so like, sleepover, ‘Smores for two,

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