So I’m listening to the radio, some oldies crap that my stupid mother can’t seem to get enough of. Yeah, fine, I’m still living at home. You think it’s easy getting a job with a lousy high school degree? Anyway, I hear this car drive up, and I think, “Oh, God, no…”
I go out on the porch, and the screen door slams, which is, like, so annoying. And my dress gets kind of caught in it, and I stumble just as I see him, and he’s all, “Like a vision she dances across the porch!” Uh, sarcastic much?
Read more over at McSweeney’s, where I’m happy to be published today.
It’s been five years since I’ve submitted anything to McSweeney’s, and I can’t believe it’s been that long. McSweeney’s will forever be associated for me with my post-newspaper period in the mid-2000s, a highly prolific time when the ideas kept popping out like acne, but less gross. I felt unfettered after more than a decade of structured journalism, and McSweeney’s provided an outlet. I didn’t even care that McSweeney’s didn’t pay, I was so happy to be read on this cool site.
McSweeney’s still doesn’t pay* and it’s still cool. For my (non) money, it’s still the best site for humour, and they’ve been on a tear lately with brilliant Trump takedowns. Glad they’ve found a slot for this piece that’s been rattling around in my head for about, well, five years.
*For the record, McSweeney’s has paid me for pieces that ended up in two of their printed anthologies.