dirty.hera

I buy a pre-signed Birdcloud poster and hold on to it through most of The Goddamn Gallows's set, except I drop it a couple of times and stomp on it a little and it gets whiskey spilled on it at some point.

atom. they spur us on with mock encouragement. a goal like a carrot dangling like a participle right before our eyes. and the tragedy and the misery and the waylaid things and the guilt they bring storm

‘Puts Me to Work’ echoes through the house, Cate Le Bon’s voice bouncing off the walls. I can almost see it, storming down the hallway, Barging out of the bathroom. This floor is fucking freezing. I can

Have to see if this goes immediately gray or not before I can continue to post.

Jerry had his eyeballs cut out, first one, and then the other. Tumors behind his eyes closed in and struck him blind and then took them altogether. A year or so later he got some made out of glass but

This is a story I wrote last month for Nately's Magazine. I will post a few excerpts, as well as a direct link to the full article at the bottom. waiting for my heart to fail. I’m sending my wife out for

Mark, just stopping by. I see that nothing has changed. Deuces, assmaster. image courtesy of New Old Stock

If you stay up late in the night on your laptop, phone, or tablet, you probably notice significant eye-strain in the later hours, and perhaps even have trouble falling asleep. Put simply, this is related

Hello there, Steemit. I am thrilled to meet you. The world is thrilled to meet you. I have so many stories for you. We all do. My name is Jeremy Maxwell. I am a writer currently residing in Atlanta, GA.

Let’s get one thing straight. You cannot declare war on an idea, a concept, or an inanimate object. You cannot declare war on Christmas, or terror, or drugs. You declare war on people. There’s no way around

Royal Thunder starts blaring in the truck and for a second it sounds like we’re at the EARL, but East Atlanta’s hundreds of miles away, and I can’t turn the music off fast enough. Dad’s hunched over by