Letters to a Friend: Hope You’re Well

One of my freelance clients is a Trumpist bodybuilder. He spent 30 minutes talking to me about all of his bodybuilding outfits and trophies and pictures and stuff and “would I like to see some sometime?” I said no, thank you, but I charged him $50 for the meeting he dominated with Speedo talk. More

Letters to a Friend: Mad in the USA

Judge me if you must, but skills like programming and writing will have zero value in a world filled with marauders who trade in Charmin and rubbing alcohol. And gauging by the type of clothing the Mr. packed in our wildfire go-bags, I’m pretty sure he plans to sell me. More