by Mae Currell Paul Ryan, I cannot call you dear. Many are the things I can call you But then this letter would be nothing But a long introduction & So I will choose one name, Paul Ryan, To go with yours Motherfucker Probably you say, "That is preposterous & crass & utterly inaccurate I … Continue reading Paul Ryan, you motherfucker (a poem letter)
by Mae Currell Saving unborn babies from the hands of abortionists is a big responsibility. I'm going to make it simple for you. There's One Best Way to Oppose Abortion (But Really, 2) There is one thing that is every pro-lifer's absolute JOB. This is the single-most important thing anyone in the battle … Continue reading What To Do If You’re Pro-Life & You Don’t Know What To Do
by Mae Currell Now, I love living in the South. I am a Southerner, and don't feel the need to be ashamed of that. But that doesn't mean I embrace every aspect of Southern culture. Does anybody embrace every aspect of her culture? Isn't culture a kind of buffet or a la carte experience? Don't … Continue reading Accents Aren’t Who We Are (but they sure are cute)
by Mae Currell Dammit all to hell, y'all, I don't know what is so freaking HARD about this, but having a penis does not entitle you to inflict it upon other living beings. That's not what living beings are for. It's what pillows are for. Or your own damn hand and a can of (inanimate) … Continue reading Pine Needles Belong Not in A Woman’s Vagina (Unless She Wants Them There)
by Mae Currell Well, it's been a minute since I've written... I'm reaching the stage of pregnancy wherein the most difficult thing I do all day is put my pants on. That doesn't mean that I'm lollygagging around, not doing shit. It means that it is haaaaaaard to put my pants on right now. But … Continue reading The Pitiless Stupidity of Racism & Boy Howdy!
by Mae Currell Everybody knows about North Carolina by this point. The state is approaching a drought; even the clouds, I guess, aren't sure where they're allowed to relieve themselves. The transgender bullshit bathroom argument is a real nasty strand of bullshit - doublespeak, Orwellian kind of bullshit. In the book 1984, the "Department of … Continue reading Fuck off GOP. What’s in my pants is my business.
by Mae Currell Jasper. We'll call him Jasper. Jasper works the lunch counter at - let's call it The Wooden Nickel. Jasper knows I'm a writer. And he probably thinks that being a writer is weird. It is weird. As a writer, I spend inordinate amounts of time alone, fiddling and tinkering around in my … Continue reading Confession: I’ve been chock full of lies
by Mae Currell I am 37 years old and 21 weeks pregnant. When you do the math, that’s the equivalent of a healthy glass or two of wine for my lightweight social filter. My 30s have been the decade of social calibration. Though it’s possible I'm deluding myself with notions of self-improvement, I think I’ve … Continue reading No, I’m Not Drunk… Just Pregnant (But Sometimes It’s Hard To Tell The Difference.)