There are a lot — It was a mistake to sell my apartment in Brooklyn. It was a mistake to come back to Los Angeles for a boy. It was a mistake not to swim through a magical underwater tunnel in Kauai, that led to a cylinder-like rock formation with a ceiling to the sky…

This is the life hacks of all life hacks — I hate it when people give unsolicited advice. For instance, yesterday an old friend walked into my house for the first time, and told me to get rid of all my books because they made the place looked cluttered. “You really like books, huh?” she said, staring at a small…

I’m lonely but I’m also not — Wikipedia explains that Schrödinger’s Cat “is a thought experiment that illustrates a paradox of quantum superposition. In the thought experiment, a hypothetical cat may be considered simultaneously both alive and dead as a result of its fate being linked to a random subatomic event that may or may not occur.”…

The results of a thirty-six year longitudinal study. — When I was sixteen, I decided I was going to lose my virginity to Larry. I had read enough Judy Blume, including the porn-adjacent Wifey, to know that I was going to like sex a lot and I thought I should take logistical control of the whole thing. Larry was…

I owe all you Sybarites a newsletter, but haven’t been able to manage it because I’ve spent every day since October 7, 2023 getting increasingly red-pilled. I tried to write about my conversion for this newsletter, but came off sounding combative and insane. And while combative insanity is perhaps what…

Celebrating war crimes puts an end to the conversation. — Believe all women, unless those women are Israeli. In that case, the photos of them bleeding between their legs as they’re dragged away by Hamas terrorists (sorry, “militants”) is not sufficient evidence. All cops are bad, but arming men who slaughter grandmas is okay because grandma is an occupier. …

Reporting to you with puffy eyes and smoke-filled lungs. — Greetings from the primordial slime of grief and confusion. Dad died on July 31 and the funeral was on August 13. Between those two dates, I spent all my time planning the funeral and doing other stupid shit. I was definitely not writing or editing or publishing. After the funeral…

I’m gonna need a minute. — My dad died. Someday I’ll write about it, the absurdity of death in our modern world, with tubes and drips and machines that we can turn on and off at will, as if we have all morphed into video game characters. Someday I’ll write about how nurses are the best…

Back in the saddle but smoking a lot of cigarettes. Also: sandwiches. — Greetings from my bed — otherwise known as Sybarite HQ. It’s been a long time since I’ve written a newsletter, because life got really messy. Again. My father’s assisted living facility was bought by another company, and apparently they don’t give the level of care he needs, even though the…