Published in Jane
The last time I woke up wet—until this morning—was about five months ago. That's when the girl I'd hooked up with raced out of my apartment, huffing about how “Somebody needs to be potty trained.” >>>Read More
Published in Jane
The last time I woke up wet—until this morning—was about five months ago. That's when the girl I'd hooked up with raced out of my apartment, huffing about how “Somebody needs to be potty trained.” >>>Read More
Published in Nylon
Published in Nylon
Harry Morton is squirming in front of the photographer's lens. His arms swerve relentlessly: "This feels like a yearbook photo, can't I move around?" >>>Read More
Published in 7x7 Magazine
Time to come clean. I cannot, for the life of me, get a date. I get no love, no attention, no nothing. And it's not for lack of effort. Since my most recent breakup, a few weeks ago, I've asked out 16 girls. I'm zero for 16. >>>Read More
Published in Nylon
I lost the spirit of Christmas at an early age as soon as I realized that Mom was in cahoots with Santa Claus. As I tore open box after box of khakis, turtle necks, sweaters and Argyle socks, all in hopes of finding a toy or two, Mom reassured me, 'Even Santa knows the clothes make the man.' >>>Read More
Published in Nylon
When I was eleven, my older sister Kelly said that someone famous was going to be at Thanksgiving dinner: "You've probably never heard of him but he's in the encyclopedia. And, he is related to us." >>>Read More