Julie Goldman shot an hour stand-up special in New York that’s available to stream right now!
This issue proves that that’s possible — there’s gobs of work out there made by queer artists that isn’t confined to coming out stories, identity struggles, or crushes on straight girls, and it’s really good.
“Writing a Rita Mae Brown ‘Sudden Death’ or Jenny Schecter ‘Lez Girls’ was never an option.”
“This would be a great time to merge an app review with how adorable everyone is with their perfect humans because everyone who works here is a total critter.”
If I had to compare this book to a physical object, it would be a box of chocolates. But not fluffy, easy chocolates – I’m not talking Russell Stover, here. I’m talking complex chocolates, probably with liqueur in them.
It evokes the feeling of sitting with your friend at night, sipping red wine and looking in their sketchbook. This looks amazing, you’d say. And you’d mean it and the moment would feel extraordinarily intimate because you feel like these drawings are only for you.
The first thing you should know about “Concussion” is that Robin Weigert has sex.
Basically, this book is one big giant sex-ed zine, but it’s a book.
What if you’re feeling fancy and/or just don’t want to think up things you’ve never done? There’s an app for that! Meet Gay Never Have I Ever for iPhone and iPad.
As summer’s come to a close and the air’s gotten a bit cooler, I’ve found myself in downtempo synthpop land.
Canary, a debut collection of queerish short stories from Nancy Jo Cullen, is all about the everyday. And the weird.
In which I review Valencia and talk to Michelle Tea for 15 minutes. // “We were not gay. We were queer. We were dykes. We were really against the man and capitalism and always aware of everything that was unfair and unjust.”
For those days when your uterus is like “REMEMBER ME?” and you have zero tampons in your purse and your Midol bottle is empty and there is no ice cream in the freezer and SHIT IS ABOUT TO GET REAL.
Audacia Ray’s Red Umbrella Project, an organization seeking to amplify the voices of sex workers through media, advocacy and storytelling, publishes a literary journal. And it’s great.
Breaking the Girls is not the kind of movie where you are going to see RuPaul in short-shorts. Not unless RuPaul’s corpse is in short-shorts when they find him floating facedown in a SoCal jacuzzi.
Charlotte’s theory was that it was up to us to use what we had around us – what the universe gave us – to find answers or come to peace with a lack of an answer. Mine was that people should beg for help. Acorn is for people ready to stop begging.
So I inserted it into her and she literally said, the second it happened, “We are never fucking with anything else again.”
This one time Gabby, Ali and Vanessa all went to The Lesbian Love Octagon, in New York City and then we all got together at a bar and, over Red Stripe, hashed out some of the finer points on our feelings.
The stories told through this play are a fascinating insight into Susan Sontag’s life, as well as queer history. If you are in New York it is definitely worth checking out.
This play kicks the living crap out of you while asking you to acknowledge the softest, sweetest, most vulnerable human parts of this world, and then it kicks you some more. I loved it.