You'll Have To Pry It From My Cold Dead Fingers...

Gun Control is a sticky, tricky, very bad no good topic and I feel like we're up to our necks in quicksand and the NRA and special interest groups are shoveling my sand in our face as we try to dig ourselves free.

I grew up with a bunch of Jews reading books, who could barely hook up a VCR to the TV if their life depended on it, let alone kill a deer, so far be it from me to understand the kind of mentality one would have to need to protect the right to personally own something that can kill.

I don't like guns because I am the kind of nit wit who would accidentally remove herself from the gene pool by shooting herself, and end up looking like Goldie Hawn in Death Becomes Her. Listen, I get it, they're sexy, and they make your clit tingle just a lil bit, but that doesn't mean I think that anyone should have them. I'm not going to even toss my hat in the ring and voice my opinion more than say they scare me and I think that any kind of automatic ANYTHING should be off the market and carry heavy penalities in a Federal Pound You in the Ass prison if you get caught dealing or buying one.

Anyhoo I met Desert John, a semi permanent resident of Slab City the first day I arrived at the Midnight Riders Bike Gang Orgy of Explosions and Fire festival (this is not the name but a very accurate description).

Desert John is a wonderful, warm, endearing god fearing Jesus loving man who just so happens to have 45 guns with him at all times. He also drives a mad max Dune Buggy and looks like he's an extra from Tombstone. He rocks. The second day of the festival he took me and a bunch of adorable young Israeli's who had accidentally stumbled upon this gathering (they were just trying to go camping) to the "gun range" which was literally just a wide stretch of sand with 1000 spray paint cans set up to blow up with giant black powder powered civil war muskets.

Crazily, when we got there was a whole crew of dudes who were also there to practice their ENORMOUS GIANT TERRIBLY SCARY storm trooper lookin 308 custom built assault rifles and a KRISS Vector 9 mm semi automatic recoil suppression rifles and naturally I sauntered up to them with my microphone and

As per usual, I got to talking to them about why they loved these weapons so very much, and if in fact it was to correct for having a small impotent penis...I'm smart. Always good to insult the guys with the very largest gun who has literally matched his whole outfit and accessories to the colors of his gun that could take down a TREX.

Listen, I'm all about protecting fundamental rights, but fuck this one. But lets be honest, I have motivation for learning how to shoot guns because I am painfully aware that when the next civil war comes, all the liberal loser pansies like me are going to become the sex slaves of the new red neck overlords, THAT IS unless we get our own guns and know how to use them. So I'm starting to train now. Duh, logic. You're welcome intellectuals. When shit hits the fan come find me, I will be Lara Croft levels of ready.

I want to say a HUGE thank you to Desert John who we will hear more from in a later episode. Also a huge thank you to Brendon Burke my dear friend for always taking me on great adventures.

Don't forget to write me a review on iTunes!…id886045028?mt=2

Don't forget to join my Patreon campaign for secret episodes

Don't forget to check out all my writing on the

New episodes from The Iboga Wellness Center start next month and until then I have MORE Slab City for you, Hurray!!!

Travel is Fatal to Bigotry and Narrow-mindedness...

Welcome to the Slab City Library and The Goonies Farm! All run with love and donation and sheer ingenuity by people who are fed up of trying to fit into society's whims. It's incredible to see how people can organize and create when left to their own devices. I'll let them speak for themselves but I must tell you the people who created these safe spaces are very special and the main thing I took away from it was the desire to want to learn how to grow my own food, it's insane how removed we all from the processes involved to grow things we put inside of our bodies.

Don't forget to write me a review on iTunes!…id886045028?mt=2

Don't forget to join my Patreon campaign for secret episodes

Don't forget to check out all my writing on the

Don't forget to check out The Goonies Facebook page/amazon wish list

Don't forget to check out the Slab City Library Facebook page and their youtube pages!

Sending you love FROM Costa Rica BITCHES

New episodes from The Iboga Wellness Center start next month and until then I have MORE Slab City for you, Hurray!!!




Insecurity is the Illusion that it's only happening to you

I met this wonderful wizard wandering around the art collection of East Jesus in Slab City. This place in bananas. There's huge climbing sculptures that have boxes of free weed at the top, kinetic moving art everywhere built out of old disposed metal and plastic of every day human use. It's fucking awesome. Mopar was hanging out playing chess and drinking red wine in a goblet smoking weed out of an actual Sherlock Holmes pipe. HE IS SO COOL. The brightest blue eyes, and one of the most expressive faces I have ever had the pleasure of talking too. 
I love Slab City, it's full of men like him who have a heart of gold and stories until the cows come home. The main message I got here was

1. Everything is an illusion
2. We are all connected beings
3. Why would you slave your life away working to own things that provide you no pleasure?

Either way go pay Mopar a visit, and tell him Zoe sent you and get one of his hugs, he hugs you inside and out.

Song: Bittersweet Symphony the Verve
Edited by Emily Brodtman

I'm a writer now!

"Poverty is like punishment for a crime you didn't commit." - Eli Khamarov did I end up in Slab City...?'s a long story. But the short version is a friend of mine asked me if I wanted to go to an anarchy festival next door to a meth head campground where people would be exploding home made bombs and setting cars on fire and I said....maybe? But my curiosity about Slab City had started years ago because let me just give you a brief description of what it is. Slab City is a plot of land that is still technically up for grabs out in the middle of nowhere 3 hours past Indio (Coachella) in California. Travelers, veterans, retirees, anarchists, transgenders, renegades from the law, meth heads, artists, counter culture champions, musicians, families, anyone and everyone can be found here in this tiny little oasis in the desert. There is no plumbing, electricity, mail, police, or taxes. It's a perfect little ecosystem of what can happen when humans are left to organize themselves from scratch and find ways to live in Harmony with nature while having their basic food, shelter and water needs met.

Slab City has a Library, a farm, a Internet cafe, a hotel, a hot springs, a art collective, a stage with live music, people selling crafts and jewelry spread around and a fully functioning meth lab. Some plots are beautiful, with a well organized set up, some are actual garbage dumps, with questionable humans living in ways you wouldn't want to imagine. It is full of some of the most colorful humans you could imagine, and for someone like me, it's kind of a paradise. No one here has anything to lose, and nothing to hide. They have faced the elements and themselves by living out here alone in the desert and they seriously don't give a fuck. It's WONDERFUL. Before you get the Slab City is the amazing "Salvation Mountain" Leonard Knights 28 year sacrifice to God. It's insane. Primary colors pop in all directions turning a once mud light colored desert floor into a giant work of technicolor art. It's truly something everyone should see once in their lifetime. I spent four days living in an RV and trying to get people to talk to me. It wasn't easy. People rightfully so are a bit cautious when a loudmouth jewess rolls up demanding friendship and community. But I eventually won a couple over and then the doors to Narnia were opened and I fell head first into this very specific slice of the planet with it's own militia, rules and regulations. Get ready. I've got a months worth of episodes coming your way. Check in every Friday!

Songs: Slab City Song - Mike
Eddie Vedder - Into the Wild - Gauranteed
Edited by Emily Brodtman

Don't Forget PATREON!! Secret Episodes posted there
Instagram @drznightingale
Twitter @genuinelyfalse


homelessveterans drugsmethalcoholicaddictionsexsurvivalthegooniesfreegantravlerscalifornianilandtrainhoppingthisamericanlifenprcomedyfunnyhumorfamilyleonardknightsalvationmountainreligionjesusgodlovefairSpiritualityabuse


So concludes my time at Mid West Fur Confurence 2017. 
I want to say a huge thank you to KP and Corey who are featured in this podcast, they are the main organizers (volunteer) and have been in the business of fandom for over 20 years. The main thing I learned from here is that when you have community, you are happy. When you have childish laughter in your heart, you are happy. When you don't take yourself too seriously, life is better.

I send you so much love through the invisible airwaves this valentines day, wherever you are remember that all you need to do is love yourself and everyone else will follow suit. People come and they go, but if you really know that who you are is full of love and is constantly striving to learn more and to be a better version of yourself then fuck cupid.

Your eternal valentine

Edited by Emily Brodtman
music: sat morning cartoons by Emily Brodtman
Exit - How Deep Is Your Love - Bee Gees

find all my articles…ay-fun/?ref=homepage
Contribute to my Patreon campaign!
Leave me a review on iTunes or Stitcher!…id886045028?mt=2

Episode 3 is here! Today we go inside the mysterious world of the Dealers Den, where anything and everything to do with fandom can be purchased. From laminated personalized name tags, to full on fur suits to tails and ears and noses and ears and shoes and anything your little heart could desire. 
Something you should know:
SPH - specially placed hole, this is what people in the fandom call the holes they have built into their suits so they can get jiggy with one another. 
Enjoy everyone! 
Stay warm

Edited by Emily Brodtman
Check out all my writing at the
Don't forget to leave me a review on iTunes!
Don't forget you can contribute to the costs of making this show at my Patreon campaign!

Why Fit In When You Were Born to Stand Out..?

Next up we meet Orion, a wonderful 20 year old EMT who was at the midwest Fur Con with his Maker. He is a Sergal, a blended dragon character who is dopey, loving and a little like Pepe le peu. Enjoy!

Music: Fantasy Mariah Carey
Wanna Be - Michael Jackson

Edited by: Emily Brodtman

Welcome to the wonderful world of furry fandom, a magical world where everyone looks like some version of your favorite cartoon character and you can be literally anything, or anyone you want to be. Now, I know some of you may not understand this world, and neither really do I, but it doesn't matter because its just another way for people in this world to connect, find love, find friends, and express their creativity. It's not about sex, it's not lunatics who think that they actually are a dragon, it's people who have found a "fursona" that allows them to access parts of their personality that they otherwise wouldn't have been able to. I have ALOT of interviews, and I'm excited to roll these out for you week by week, as always I'll be posting around Thursday/Friday every week, and I hope you are as excited as I am to open the door to this hidden world.

Music: The Puppy Song
Atomic Dog - George Clinton
Born to be Wild - Stephen Wolf
Edited by Emily Brodtman -

I have a new job at the cools! Go check out all of my writing here!

Like Throwing Hot Dogs Down a Hallway

I met Caleb when he was panhandling outside 711, and I was walking my friends brand new black lab puppy (SO FUCKING CUTE) and I caught a bit of his giant blue saucer eyes beneath his hoodie and I just wanted to adopt him. Young, funny, quick, sly he's just great. I spent awhile with him, bought him a pack of cigs and gave him my card if he was ever in trouble...randomly two days later I was walking down the street and who do I see but young Caleb sitting on 6th ave trying to collect enough coin to buy a small bag of weed. What happened next is going to be an on going series where I try to get this beautiful human back on some semblance of a life track or at least find him a warm place to get high in. 
Winter time in NYC is brutal, and no matter how much money you have, you can be giving more, that can be clothes, time, money, food, or just eye contact and respect. There is no reason that with the insane amount of wealth floating around this great city that anyone should have to sleep on the street.

Also I have a new gig! I am the editor of the new sex and modern love section of come check out my comedic musings about my own struggles with love and my recommendations on best places to eat/drink/dance/get high in the CITY.

Music: Ben Harper: Homeless Child
Keep Ya Head Up: Tupac
Edited by Emily Brodtman


Back to basics, back to where I belong. In a broke down NJ poorly lit convention center surrounded by Porn Stars and the people who love them. I don't know why I love places like this so much. It's full of such wonderfully weird people, and no one gives a FUCK. There is a freedom, and a overt grime that allows everyone there to relax. The moment you step inside those doors everyone is on the same playing field. Everyone's like yeah, I'm a pervert, I admit it, and so are you so let's have a great time. 

The thing that always gets me is the insane amount of money that is being tossed around this industry. People are making serious money, and in super creative ways. Ok, so maybe someone is going to be able to see the inside of your small intestine...but every job has it's ups and downs. 
I met a ton of fascinating people, and I'm going to be doing longer interviews with a Instagram influencers (1.2 million followers!!) named "lethal lips" who is famous for being one of the only people in the world that can deep throat a 18 inch dildo. Girls gonna give us some tips. 
We're also going to get in deep with Jordan, the unbelievably beautiful Dominican con man who was covered head to toe in tats that said things like "FUCK THE FEDS" and "I see you looking KEEP HATIN" he was fucking fascinating...I'm going to put a list of all the social media handles of all the people we spoke to that day so you can see for yourself just how fabulous they are. Stay warm kids and don't forget WINTER HAS COME. Get busy get snuggley, keep skinny, don't become a drunk sugar addict like I do every year.

Music: I want your sex part 1 - George Michael
Doin' it - LL Cool J (best SONG EVER)

It's day 7 and I have gone to the Burning Man Lost and Found in search of my phone which I lost day 1 (duh)and I have gone to find it. This was my very first time there and I must tell you it was one of the most pleasant and organized experiences I have ever had in my actual life anywhere. I had the very best time asking people WHAT they had lost and WHERE

..somebody lost a JET PACK. I am not joking. It was just hilarious. So I was waiting in line for literally forever and was still coming down off a massive night of mushrooms and pirate ships and dance floor battles and didn't notice when a dog the bounty hunter lookin dude covered in tats with a bleach blonde hair had a tiny tea cup long haired black and brown Chihauhua sticking out of his murse.

Now, this would normally not bring about such an intense reaction from me, but I have NEVER seen anything living from nature there except for one misfortunate insident with a rouge bird and one single bumble bee all which caused great confusion and wonderment for ever from me. How did they get there? Did this bumble bee fly across the entire desert? Is he so thirsty? Anyway, I digress but the burning man lost and found is the worlds saddest and most joyous place. There was a pile of keys the size of Everest for a million RV's, bikes, chastity belts, Segways shaped like have never seen people happier than when they find their RV keys. When you lose your keys at burning man you feel like your entire life comes to a halt and you'll waste out there alone eventually turning into stoney chunks like Ozymandias a warning to future festival goers to keep their shit togeher. Either way, thank you burning man for another INCREDIBLE YEAR. In dust I trust.

Music: On and On: Halcyon
Orbital: Halcyon
Edited by: Emily Brodtman

Here's My Cum, You're Welcome

It's the last day of Burning Man and I am wandering through the skeletal remains of the Robot Heart graveyard. The sun has just come up, and the sky is an orgy of orange. As I stare and wonder about the wasted potential of this generation and watch drug fueled men chase beautiful costume queen Instagram addicts, I feel two very large hands on my bear chest. I look to find the source of the foreign intruder and it belongs the glowing Cherub like face of Miles Matthewson. A man so full of the kind of innocent silly positive energy that you instantly sort of fall in love with his lackadaisical carefree white privilege. I met him wearing a panda onesie wandering the furthest outreaches of deep playa and in order to not become another extinct bear I have zipped it down all the way to my cervix (exposing my bear chest) So there I was winding my own business for ONCE and was stopped by this Adonis like man and his super cool east London girlfriend (she wasn't even dressed up she was in like cool brunch clothes and of course she's a yoga teacher in Ibiza FULL time which means she's off her literal tits) by putting both their hands on my boobies and pulling me into a long drawn out stand up cuddle puddle. This is the kind of thing that only really beautiful people can do. This guy looked like Beyonce's stylist walked around following him with a golden light spotlight and a fan for his silken shoulder lengh locks. Just because they were cute didn't mean I wasn't going to verbally punish them a bit for their audacity so we spent the morning on bike rides and art cars and celebrating life and once again it reaffirmed for me how much I love that god damn place. It's just pure magic baby.

Song: Life is a bowl of cherries
Road to Nowhere: Talking Heads
Edited by Emily Brodtman

Don't forget to sign up to my Patreon Campaign. I decided to keep my podcast ad free because, lets face it, ads are gross, so any help you can give me to support the costs of editing and equipment would be so helpful. This is not my full time job, but one day I wish it could be and unless I start sucking the right dick it's not gonna happen. HELP!

Never Regret Thy Fall, O Icarus of the Fearless Flight For the Greatest Tragedy of Them All Is Never to Feel the Burning Light

It's day 8 of the Burn. I have lost everything and everyone on purpose for I decided last minute to let my grumpy, drained, bedraggled, rag tag team of core friends drive off without me, so I could watch for the Temple burn for first time in 7 years. So I sent them home(with their faces that looked like a cats asshole) with all my Lisa frank colored belongings (beside a minions covered toothbrush, a small bottle of coconut oil and my microphones)and ventured out alone into the desert to see what else the universe could throw at my sleepy face.

It turns out, it had a lot more in store for me. I ended meeting an entire new crew of best friends, Canadian Iranians, some of the most physically gorgeous people I've ever met and danced with them for hours in a metal army container built for troops in Afghanistan hide from the scorching heat. I let go a ton of tightly held sadness that was sticking to my heart like a koala bear in a hurricane. But it was hard. Obviously, my new best friends who promised to take me back to Reno disappeared, and I was sent on a epic mission back and forth across playa to find them, since everyone I knew had vanished. During this epic quest I sought shelter in one of the last remaining shade structures I could find. Remember this is end of day Monday, so somewhere between 5 and H I found two men napping in the last shred of shade they had. So in true Nightingale fashion I woke them up by accident by trying to quietly snuggle into their slips of darkness because I was started to look like roasted suckling pig. They were so lovely, so generous, and such good story tellers and the rest, was magic. Life is a really funny thing. Its hard not to believe in fate when everything that happens is so whack a doodle.

Three years ago I brought my entire family to Burning Man. Everyone thought I was crazy. Why would you bring your family to the one place where you're supposed to be free of all your "default" worlds staples...So what happens when you take 5 east coast super jews whose idea of camping includes 4,000 Egyptian sateen blend sheets and a penchant for obsessing over food, logistics, weather and being on time and leave them helpless to fend for themselves in a desert populated with 70,000 insane asylum escapees with only ME as their way finder? MAGIC BABY. I have been plotting for this moment basically my whole life.

I have always been different, always been the fly in my families ointment. While they love me, they’ve never really understood what the deviled egg I was ever wearing, saying, doing. My resistance to getting a “real job” my failure to get a masters. My insistence on spending my life traveling like dandelion spore in the wind. While they have always supported me, they have always questioned me, rolled their eyes and muttered old yiddish expressions under their breath whenever I would tell them about my newest adventure business idea or travel plans.

We have always been incredibly close, but as the years went by and people moved away, had children, settled down we naturally grew apart. 
I stayed crazy, they all stayed sane. It’s like the quote in dazed and confused, I get older, they all stay the same age. I needed to ruffle their feathers. To take away their cell phones, their addiction to work and process. I needed them to get lost, be confused, fend for themselves against the elements, let fate take them on a Icarus ride straight to the sun. I needed them to understand the joy I have felt my whole life being free so they in turn could understand me.

So a pinnacle moment for my mother was this moment when she went to the Pussy Day Spa. For her it revolutionized her entire mentality around being naked. Which was in fact I think the thing that was stopping her from finding a new life partner. I have so much gratitude to Woody and Champagne for giving my mother this gift. They are such a wonderful example of different ways you can find partnership that don't erect prison walls around your natural biological urges.


Edited by: Emily Brodtman
Music: Car Wash: Rose Royce
So Fresh So Clean: Outkast

Same Person...Different Pronouns....

Transgender issues are something I don't take lightly and try to approach with as much love and understanding as I have in my body. I cannot imagine the bravery it would take to stand up for the gender you know you are but do not match physically and hormonally. There are over 700,000 people who identify as transgender in the U.S and as people feel more support from the culture at large that number grows and grows. This is the first person I have ever interviewed on this subject but it's one I've always been fascinated with and am going to keep exploring. What makes up gender. Who decides what constitutes masculine and feminine. Why do we have such rigid and defined ideas of what people should look like and why does it bother people so much when people confront those definitions with their own new blended ones?

For some reason when I think about this, it makes me imagine goddess's in their celestial kitchen, whipping up new humans and breathing little soul balls into babies and getting distracted by a unicorn, blowing the wrong soul into the wrong tiny little body. This is obviously not a medically accurate description of what happens but until I get a better one this is what I am sure happens.

This one was a hard one because it's the first first my mother and I ever got into a fight during a recording. I had a very clear vision of my mother and the way she thought about most things and her questions to MJ really upset me and made me SO UNCOMFORTABLE... but I realize now that my mother was simply practicing radical honesty, and she did it in a way that wasn't malicious. She was merely curious and had the balls to ask the questions most couldn't. Anyway... we worked through it and I am really proud of her for being so open and causing dialogue that FINALLY me me squirm. I like to believe and pretend that everyone is full of love for the LGBQT community even though I know it's not true. I hate acknowledging that the gender switching could cause internal conflict but it does. So I'm sending all my love to anyone coming out of their cocoon and emerging into their beautiful butterfly self. 

Harder They Come...Harder They Fall...One and All

I just love old dudes at the burn. They always have one weird accessory, some kind of military jacket, hiking boots and a shit eating grin on their face. I found this lovely, beautiful man waiting to get his photo taken by my mothers BOYFRIEND. Yes. My mother has a boyfriend, and they met online (common interest, burning man) and then had their first date on PLAYA. I mean come on. He has his on golf cart. I love him. Nick King, or the Soul Doctor, has been taking photos at center camp for the last 7 years. He always has a line waiting to have their photo taken so I posted up with my mom and stuck my microphone to the next up in line and this is what I found! A simply lovely, 80 year old retired Ranger (not BS burning man ranger, i mean knife in teeth, gilly suit ranger) who had been a land mine installer in three round of Vietnam. Heavy stuff. I'll let him speak for himself, but this man had the most jovial voice and a twinkle in his eye. If he can do it, so can you. No more excuses everyone. Come see for yourself what all the fuss is about

ALSO i am having a fund raiser next Friday for please come. 20 dollar donation at the door and I'll be doing stand up and MC a live auction, FUN! 
Got a couple of comedians and three all star DJ's including Wolf and Lamb. YAY!

Music: Vietnam - Jimmy Cliff
Harder They Come - Jimmy Cliff
Edited by Emily Brodtman -

Burning man episodes start now! First up the minds behind Big Imagination try to explain to me why they thought it was a good idea to chop up a giant 1977 air bus, and close down roads from the Mohave Desert to Black Rock they could put half the cock pit of a plane on the ground. The thing is so massive, so heavy, so unimaginably large...and I know most things at the burn are just for the fuck of it, but never has it been this expensive, and this much of an undertaking. I would rather them bring a 747 sized black rubber cock down the road. Who wants to be in a plane? I hate being in planes. I'll tell you what's an impressive art car. It's a giant purple and pink piñata, built on a fucking crane, that has lollipops that rise up out of it's belly with a platform disco ball candy dance floor. It cost 20k all in. But I wanted to put my judgements away and give them a chance to explain to me exactly what kind of Peyote they must have been smoking when they decided...hey! I know, lets show the playa gods how big our collective dicks are and take on this Herculean feat! I'll let them answer for themselves. Remember I'll be posting an episode EVERY THURSDAY! Yes I have a schedule CAN YOU BELIEVE IT!

FYI It costs them 500k to get the plane back and forth from storage, EVERY YEAR. 
Music: MIA Paper Planes
Simon & Garfunkel: Only Living Boy In New York

It Runs In the Family....

I learn something new about my family every time we have dinner. The question of nature vs. nurture is always buzzing around my head anytime i'm with home because growing up I always felt like I was the fly in their ointment, But with age I have had the pleasure of being able to see how not only am I their genetic copy but how deep the connective tissue is that ties us together.

This year has been a series of brutally challenging lessons for me. I lost two people who I felt were the building blocks of my life. People I loved with every cell of my body.

I've struggled with accepting this. I am at my core a little hermit crab when it comes to the people and things I love, I just want to grab them and pull them into my shell and keep them there with me forever.

The struggle has been real and after this burning man I felt like that fire engine haired girl in Run Lola i'd been sprinting my entire life against an invisible clock...and STILL arrived one second to late.

So a couple mornings ago....I had a mildly serious, completely terrifying panic attack. This is something I've only recently discovered...where it feels like i'm in a clock work orange chair with my eyes taped open watching on repeat a slide show of my fears about the future ...all while the room is simultaneously folding into itself, turning into a smaller and smaller oragami crane...the air draining from the room and making my face look like Arnold S at the end of Total Recall.

So what does one do in these times of worry and woe? DUH! Breathe and call your mom. So I poured my body into a train and got into my mothers bed so I watch antiques roadshow with her and argue about what the hypothetical cost of a tiffany's lamp shade from 1920 would be.

And why am I writing this this? Trust me, I don't want to. But because I'm hoping that if their are others that get this feeling...that they know they're not alone. To offer up some very humble thoughts around loss and change. Life, regardless of who you are, how much you learn, what you have, and what you don't challenging. I assume at some point the struggle to find purpose and meaning with why our consciousness was paired with this particular body in this particular time, is a universal one.

I only know one thing. If you are lucky enough to have family, big or small, go to them when things feel upside down. Because people come and go, but your families love (as challenging as they maybe) is forever.

Anyway, my uncle Robby was in DC because my father and him live in MIami and Irma had forced them to flee back up north and hide out in D.C. with my mother. I recorded this story as I record all my family stories, with my cell phone in the middle of the dining room table just listening to the tennis match like stories that fly around the air. I have nothing but endless gratitude for them. I have a shell I can always go two, when I feel naked and alone in this world. I am a lucky little crab.

Music: Golden Earring: Twilight Zone (extended remix)
Beatles: Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds
Edited: Emily Brodtman

I feel like Ahab lost in a sea of hatred looking for a great white whale to give my life meaning again. I literally don't know what to do or say anymore. The hate is so deep, the ideology is so wrong. The "fake news" so pervasive that I literally don't trust anything I hear. I left this country to get away from this and the moment I'm back I literally trip and land on the laps of two actual real life trump voting, white sheet draped (casper the friendly ghost they were NOT) grand wizard loving totally likable racist men who shared the same problems as us all. Marriage problems, concerns about their children future, struggling to find their place in this world. (THE NAZII KKK dragon drenched ZZ Top looking GUY HIT ON ME! Apparently his dick wasn't an antisemite. I assume he would have had to covered my jewy face with a swastika covered pillow?)

Due to copious drinking of beer in horns, I of course fucked up the sound AGAIN, I am the least pro journalist of all actual time. One day I'm going to have like a team of well dressed men with boom mikes and fancy monitors...but until then, it's just me and my medium audio skills so deepest apologies, I had to cut a lot of it due to sheer sloppy sound quality.

These two were gems. Fathers, business owners, best friends, hard working Americans...the problem is this. They are the reason Trump got elected. Because hate is a Hydra like beast that comes in many forms. My guess in this case is that hate came from being from a generation of poor, uneducated, angry, white people who feel cheated out of their genetic "right." What they don't understand is that the golden orange cow they put into office is the actual representation of why they were poor and born broken in the first place. Capitalism, corporate rights over human rights, money over decency, greed over community. The irony is simply lost on them. We are fucked fucked fucked fucked fucked fucked fucked. I won't spoil it, but they literally contradict themselves at every turn. I couldn't believe he could say things so diametrically opposed to one another. It was like watching trump himself twirl around chasing his own hair piece. 
We are so fucked. 
That's all there is to it. 
Dudes like this are deciding our future, and honestly I liked them both. This isn't black and white, this is a prism of butt fuckery, and Trump doesn't even have the decency to use lube.

GET ANGRY EVERYONE. Get up off your ass. Do something, anything please for the love of god. That's assuming we will have a world to try to save in four years at the rate were going...honestly I'm going to camp outside Tesla's head quarters and wait for the rocket ships to mars.

Music: Good Ole Boys: Randy Newman
Mary Don't You Weep - Aretha Franklin
Edited by Emily Brodtman: Check her out at

This lovely man, who I'll call Juan Doe, had skin like fresh caramel glowing behind full moon eyes and a smile you needed sunglasses to look directly at. Juan lived and breathed dignity and danced like summer twister. Hot n furious, body twisting and contorting to match the frantic beats of the African drums that surrounded us at the sweaty dance halls he would take me to. Pure machismo was wafting out of every pore while the men (dripping in gold chains) twirled bright lipped women in sky high heels. There was a moment where my mother, who was being spun around by a coke can shaped man dressed in all silk, yelled out to me, " this is heaven!"

I LOVE CUBA. I want to eat it and keep a little piece of it inside my body at all times so I can remember one very important thing, THERE IS NO WRONG TIME TO DANCE. There is nothing more fun that watching men and women of all shapes, ages and sizes, blaze across a restaurant floor at 3 pm.

He became my city guide. Showing me the nooks and crevices of the crumbling city center of Old Havana. I got a crash course in Santeria, a mix of the West African religion Yoruba, with elements of Roman Catholic and Native American traditions. It is often misinterpreted as a ‘voodoo’ religion as it involves trance, animal sacrifice, deity worship and sacred drumming and dancing. He took me too hole in the wall lunch spots where 3 dollars would buy you the best fried fish in a heaping steaming pots of rice and beans with tons of smish smashed golden plantains, sweet and salty, crispy and soft. The best!

I remembered, that above all, people who work hard at something they love, with a higher purpose than pursuing their own vanity projects (ego) are always the happiest.

He worked as a tour guide at Cajellon de Hamel. A landmark made by Salvador Gonzalez who saw an opportunity to turn a destroyed landscape into a raw panoramic feast of the African history of slavery in Cuba. It celebrates all things Santeria, robust shapely women dance along the walls, their colors celebrating all things human, taunting me with their wonderful eyes and wicked feminine wiles. He convinced the government by pitching it as school for street kids that would teaching them how to play drums and make art. It's such a wholesome, wonderful musical place.

I had my interview interrupted by 100 middle schoolers all in fresh crisp mustard and crimson uniforms. Is there anything cuter than 12 year olds in knee socks? NO! Honestly, every single kid could have been a gap kid. I don't know what it is about the mix of Caribbean and African that produces this unreal color of golden skin, sky high cheek bones and gazelle like bodies. It's so brutally unfair that I come from potato shaped humans. These kids still have my heart. So powerful, so articulate, so wise, so sure of themselves. They were cooler than I will EVER be.

I didn't translate them for you because I wanted you to hear the power in their voice. These girls basically told me that they have dreams of being policemen, teachers, mothers, and judges, all for the purpose of cleaning up all the bad guys. They told me that they want the embargo between the U.S. and Cuba to stop. They love all things American, especially Skrillex, Rhianna, Bieber, and Vin Diesel (they shot a faster more furious more fastest the 10th in Cuba and Vin came and hung out with these kids) They told me the reason that trump was president was because Americans hate immigrants and are racist (FACT!) and that they hoped we would stop seeing immigrants as pests but as people.

Go to Cuba. Invest in her people. Donate to people who help them. Fight against that stupid man baby's new embargo's. The people there deserve nothing less than all the love and support the world can offer. It'll take time, but I want Sunshine to grow up in a world of choice.
Music : Killing Me Softly With His Song (cuba version)Omararo Portuondo
Let Me Be Him: Hot Chip