The Cereal Wish | Part 7
“Those motherfuckers—spying on me again,” I said.
“Who’s spying on you?” Sarah asked.
How ‘The Silence of the Lambs’ Revolutionized Horror Films
But why was The Silence of the Lambs so good? And how did it push the envelope for horror films?
The Artistic Subtlety of “Pig” and Nicolas Cage
I texted my friend, Adam, who appreciates the Cagester more than me. “We’ve got to see this,” I said, basically wanting to see it to mock Cage. We did. And when it ended, I was stunned. It was nothing like I expected. No hazardous car chases. No deathly shootouts. No exaggerations. Just a lonely man looking for his pig. It was, simply put, sensational.
A Look at Today’s Approach to Mental Health through the Mind of Hollywood’s Most Convoluted Antihero
Travis opened up and wasn’t taken seriously. In 2021, an era where mental health is more discussed and normalized than ever before, Travis is an extreme and somber expression of what can happen to people who need help but never receive it.
The Cereal Wish | Part 7
“Those motherfuckers—spying on me again,” I said.
“Who’s spying on you?” Sarah asked.
Thanksgiving: It’s All About Football and Farts, Bro
But Thanksgiving morning—oof. That’s the best. Since I was in third grade, every Thanksgiving morning, my childhood friends and I play seven-on-seven football. It’s the best. We freeze our nuts off at Willow Stream Park and all pretend we’re the next Tom Brady. You know, the Jewish one. Some of us don’t give a shit about the game and smoke doobies on the sideline, while others get overly competitive and call plays like the Annexation of Puerto Rico. We come home with chapped lips, bruised elbows, muddy clothes, and churning stomachs. Turkey Bowl is the most fun I have every November. Not because of the game itself, though, but because I get to see friends who’ve moved to San Francisco, San Diego, New York, Seattle, and even Beijing. Our annual game is my real Thanksgiving celebration—and I’m thankful for it.
Wild One
They entered the open-brick condo eager to rip each other’s clothes off. Maria rubbed the front of Eric’s kakis, while he slid his fingers up her red bubble skirt. He tore her white blouse and sucked from her shoulders down to her fingertips. Maria unbelted Eric’s pants and chucked the leather across the room.
Evil Roots
LIAM OPENED HIS EYES AND JOLTED UPWARD AS IF HE’D BEEN ELECTROCUTED. Bridget, standing beside the king-sized bed, shook him like he was a salad that needed more dressing. Liam winced in pain — Bridget wasn’t helping his shoulder arthritis. He looked at his wife: her grey hair blended with the white concrete wall behind her, and her green nightgown — a massive tank top that covered her naked body — blurred against her pale skin as if he were gazing into a kaleidoscope.
Shitty First Dates: Casey
Tony and Stephanie, or Brett and Casey?
Emotions are the greatest challenge we face as a people. Sociopaths have it easy.