It’s like one of those Twilight Zone epiphanies that arrives midway through an episode to thwart the lately begotten hopes and dreams of whatever poor fool thought he caught a lucky break or maybe had a good thing going. So … Read More
Q: How important is size really? for real? A: The answer would have been “not at all” until I personally experienced the magic of a throbbing 8-inch cock extending from the body of a crew-rowing Adonis with unrivaled stamina and cardiovascular ability.
When I walked into the women’s locker room at Dillon gym earlier this week, I noticed a poster that made me bite my lip. Tacked up between weekly fitness schedules, the sign grabbed my attention with the headline: “The weight is over.” The line, I thought, could have been pulled from a diet product ad—Sensa, maybe, or Alli. It was the sort of cheesy slogan you see on caffeine-and-diuretic “supplements” at CVS.
“To what extent do or should we believe victims? How much does identity play a role in the privilege of belief? Which institutions have the integrity to be moral authorities?”
Before you roll your eyes—surprise! another starry-eyed undergrad paean to Barack Obama!—I’ll have you know that here at the Nass we’re not in the business of writing portentous presidential endorsements, as is the wont of our esteemed colleagues over at … Read More
Whenever i feel like I don’t know where my life is going, my father is there to console me. He tells me that his life—or at least the version of it that I know—only really began when he was 35. He reminds me that especially given his untraditional experiences, he and my mom have no expectation that either I or my brother follow the typical pattern of get a degree, get a job, get married, all right out of college.
Probably wearing an oversized baseball cap and a big, sloppy grin, at three years old I stepped onto a characteristically purple and yellow car on the Old Colony Line Railroad with my father. The line extends from Boston down to Kingston, my hometown, and Plymouth, where the rock is, both about an hour away from the city. After decades out of service, the line had just been rebuilt, thanks in part to the concrete my dad poured.
Music for people who like doing nothing How are you spending your summer vacation? Ever since students have entered grade school, the question has plagued them, and every time you meet that friend you haven’t seen since the end of … Read More
For one last time during my two-month stay in Spain, I arrived at the Estepona bus station and sat on the metal bench outside with holes that always leave a circle mark on the back of my thighs. As I … Read More
I like full lips. Not so that the mouth looks large, just lips that look a little heavier than mine, so that they fall almost into a pout, curling, hanging. I like lips that say, “I’m here, I’m here to do something,” and spread to reveal a smile of wide, white teeth.
