
Yasss, I'm on Yeztugo?
I don’t know what I look like to doctors but I must have a “freak bitch willing to do anything” sticker on my forehead, because they’re always wanting me to be their guinea pig.
This is Alligator Tears.
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I don’t know what I look like to doctors but I must have a “freak bitch willing to do anything” sticker on my forehead, because they’re always wanting me to be their guinea pig.

There are so many mass shootings these days I can’t keep up at this point—you hear about a new one every other day. Can you remember 10 years ago when that shit wasn’t true?

Just when I was feeling like I was betraying my ancestors by partying with the conquistadors, I got BB'd at the train station by a gang of homosexuals.

I’m a writer. I know words. Finally a game I could play.

I love that manic, nervous, feral feeling you get when you’re on your way to hook up with a stranger from the internet in the middle of the night.

The night of the Benito Bowl, I put on my good Puerto Rico flag crop-top to go watch it at a gay bar in San Juan.

How can I describe to you what I feel when I enter a Sunglass Hut?

This is Alligator Tears.