The Sidewalk People
The midnight air nipped at Beth’s skin. It was telling her to go back to her hotel room, go back to the quiet safety of a warm bath and complimentary slippers. As the evening drew to a close, the city sidewalk was packed tight with bodies and clouds of cigarette smoke. Voices merrily quarrelled in a drunken stupor as methodical bass reverberated steadily from the club behind a red velvet rope.
The Benefits of Writing "Off-Brand"
This always happens. I write an article that gets a bit of attention, and then I think that this is the only type of piece I can ever write again in my life.
Lindsay's Love Letters
I don’t get bright ideas very often. The lightbulb in my brain is on a constant dimmed setting for more of a mellow mood ambiance.
Your Friendly Neighbourhood Vocal Mascot Has an Exciting Tale To Tell You!
I have two different categories of writing here on Vocal. I am (sort of) famous for both. One is when I speak candidly about extremely personal TMI moments in the ongoing saga, which is my awkward existence. Those posts always do well—little-known fact: people love hearing about your insane life stuff.
Heart If You’re Horny (For Reading)
Okay, so the word horny gets a lot of guff. Maybe it hits the ear wrong and makes us grit our teeth a little. Perhaps its connotation with kinky hardcore porn-star sex has something to do with it.
Looking at Food Blogs Like They Are Late-Night Porn
My fast starts at 5:30 PM every night. I’ve learned that I cannot apply fasting to the usual slapdash schedule that I live by in everyday life. I have to be rigid because everything will fall apart if I do not keep to the program.
A Spotify Playlist For When You Realize You Can’t Outrun Your Embarrassing Existence
You'd think with the type of content I’ve become a pro at sharing with the world, I’d be impervious to embarrassment. I write stories about mistakingly making it sound like I’m having an incestuous relationship with my brother. I write brazenly about my erotica phase and how I get super turned on by the idea of sexually liberated aliens. I talk endlessly about masturbating in weird places—so many ticklin’ the tortious jokes, they aren’t even funny anymore.
That One Time The Queen of Cringe Created a New World Order
Dearest diary, It is with great regret that I write this entry here today. I am deeply ashamed and simultaneously delighted with the series of events that I may or may not have brought upon this world. Because, of course, I can’t be blamed for everything. That would be unfair to place myself on such a lofty pedestal—delusions of grandeur have never been my strong suit after all.