I don’t remember when I started following Patton Oswalt on Twitter, but it must have been around the time Trump got elected. I was a bag of anxiety that night, seeking out any kind of reassurance that things weren’t going to go to shit immediately.
It’s a Thursday. “Lift, #10.” I say to Rich Deike.
Season #7 of American Horror Story is almost upon us. With a new season comes new faces, and of course… another season without Jessica Lange.
Note: This email actually has not been revised.
Don’t read this if you’re planning on seeing The Picture of Dorian Gray at Theater Now in Wilmington! THERE ARE SPOILERS.
“Tell me my fortune.” I had said to a friend the night before, laying out my palm. My typically silly and salty friend ran his finger along one of the creases. Most of the impromptu palm reading was in jest, meant to entertain and tease.
Note: This email has been revised to protect the identify of the person who submitted it.
Unless I get a magical gap of free time before now and Friday, this is one of my last posts of my 20s. It feels weird.
In 2005’s Prime, Uma Thurman’s Rafi finds a new love in a handsome young artist. Who is 14 years her junior. Keep reading.