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mostly non-fiction

October 26, 2014 by whatwhippedcreamismadeof

I didn’t need to know him, but he showed himself to me. He did most of the talking and I listened and sometimes added value to the conversation, but mostly listened. He’d say something really big sometimes, too big for my brain to handle, and I’d stare at him, in no way to eager to impress, so silence was my response. But he would share things so big that silence seemed almost rude so I’d say, “I don’t have anything […]

Categories: stories • Tags: dating, first kiss, ice cream cake, Kin Dza Dza, sex

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I do.

October 25, 2014 by whatwhippedcreamismadeof

Do you ever avoid work by trimming your toenails and coating your feet in rosehip seed oil and shea butter? Do you ever avoid work by tracing your veins with your nails and moisturizing until there’s no longer a dusty trail of white skin? Do you ever avoid work by going to the kitchen barefoot to peel, cube, and salt two eggplants? Do you ever avoid work by sitting on the floor in front of your laptop, staring at your post […]

Categories: snippets • Tags: eggplant, feet, salt, Saturday, work from home

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he sent me a poem

October 23, 2014 by whatwhippedcreamismadeof

and I responded: There are two things I’ve always had a difficult time with: poetry and performance art. Both are unintentionally uncomfortable to me, as if stumbling upon someone’s open diary and catching a few words that force you to pause and read the whole page. That feeling of invading someone’s privacy (and getting great pleasure from it) never leaves me, even when the performances are public or the poems are published or spoken. And I’ve been reading poetry lately! […]

Categories: sugar • Tags: communication, performance art, poetry, poets

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cimetière du montparnasse pt 1

October 21, 2014 by whatwhippedcreamismadeof

For three weeks I lived across the street from it. They were the only three words I said every day, multiple times a day, because I could never remember my street number but I remembered the cemetery, so when the taxi drivers asked “Adresse?” I responded with “Cimetière du Montparnasse.” Because I said those words often, I said them well. After hearing where I wanted to go, typical taxi conversation would suddenly burst into an opportunity to connect with the […]

Categories: secrets • Tags: Cemetery, Montparnasse, Paris

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treading water with walt whitman

October 3, 2014 by whatwhippedcreamismadeof

The man I met today was a professor. He professed a lot of things but the parts that resonated were the bits and pieces about his family, existing and past. Ten years ago the family he was born into died and he felt (and still feels) like an orphan. His existing family unit continues to grow because that’s all he has…”the original set of kids have grown…let’s adopt some more…” kinda thing. It’s not common on a first meeting to […]

Categories: stories, sugar • Tags: creative writing, dating, Hosiery, short story, sugar baby, sugar daddy

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the condor

September 30, 2014 by whatwhippedcreamismadeof

The day after my 32nd birthday, my double lap dance virginity died. A couple of hours after its funeral, feeling unsatisfied and dry, I left the club and took a walk. “Maybe I’ll take excitement into my own hands and find an ATM on a quiet street and get mugged,” I thought. That could make a good story. There was only one graveyard street to be found in North Beach. Its only light came from the gigantic blue and white […]

Categories: stories • Tags: Fernet, Los Angeles Negros, san francisco, strip clubs, strippers, the condor club

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eat in

August 25, 2014 by whatwhippedcreamismadeof

Later, after living here almost a year, I learned that the cranky old man who had welcomed me into the neighborhood was right: those messy Chinese were taking over Alameda. When I first met him he looked like he had just beaten up two Chinese men in the Safeway parking lot, for something simple like pulling out of their parking spaces too slowly. Yes. He had probably gotten out of his car to beat up TWO Chinese men in TWO […]

Categories: stories • Tags: Alameda, Chinese, Chinese food, creative writing, racism, short story, spells, to go

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oh no, here it comes

August 14, 2014 by whatwhippedcreamismadeof

I told him about the three day 24/7 rave I had just returned from, the $2k worth of RV damage, having to duct tape the coke mirror as a temporary replacement for the missing passenger mirror, and the driver cut and bloodied from being washed in tempered glass when the passenger window broke. “And you were the only sober one? OH. MY GOD.” Shakes his head. “You know, let me tell you something. I know you’re not going to listen […]

Categories: stories, sugar, Uncategorized

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jeff goldblum is anton levey pt 1

August 5, 2014 by whatwhippedcreamismadeof

I was in his neighborhood and dropped by unannounced. His home was different. The warm minimalism I had gotten used to was absent. This home was a stomach that had been fed royal colored velvets, ornately carved and gilded furniture, flocked wallpaper, crystal, and stained glass. This new environment didn’t change him, though. He was still the man with a fitted button down tucked into jeans atop suede loafers. Designer everything but not a designer name to be seen. He […]

Categories: slumber, Uncategorized • Tags: Dream, dream diary, subconcious

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negotiation bootcamp

August 5, 2014 by whatwhippedcreamismadeof

I picked up the book for free after a session with my physical therapist. She was getting ready for a yard sale that weekend and had boxes of this and that up for grabs. I took “Negotiation Bootcamp,” a book about turbocharged vintage cars, and a few other things I don’t remember. A read a few sentences every day. Sometimes while sitting in the crapper, sometimes while doing laundry. It was one of the few books I took with me […]

Categories: sugar • Tags: life tactics, negotiation skills, sugar baby, sugar daddy

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