I remember being drenched with sweat in the frigid freezer…The morgue. The coroners lair. The morbidly grotesque and morbidly obese butcher stood too close to me; wearing a leather, sanguine splotched smock. He held an…
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What is there even left to talk about? I hit a mental hemorrhoid. A impediment, if you will. A magnanimous impasse barricading thought. A windswept notion passes, but it’s too flighty for me to catch.…
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I’m standing still, but it’s only because I’m spinning so fast. Turbulent, top heavy, twister clinging to cinder blocks. A photophobic visual distribution of perplexing, improbable proportions. Clutching the stagnant, dormant ground I wait. Out…
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In the emergency room, it’s not all that often that you connect, truly, more deeply with your patients. I’m not saying that in a numb or unemotional way, but it’s generally the nature of the…
View PostIn the emergency room, it’s not all that often that you connect, truly, more deeply with your patients. I’m not saying that in a numb or unemotional way, but it’s generally the nature of the…
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I drove to work unable to see. Mainly because my sun stained and scratched sunny’s had met their inevitable retirement. But also, the monsoon. This desert (apparently) is not all that dry. Hail pelted the…
View PostI drove to work unable to see. Mainly because my sun stained and scratched sunny’s had met their inevitable retirement. But also, the monsoon. This desert (apparently) is not all that dry. Hail pelted the…
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The feeble cashew nut is the worst of all the nuts by far. I know I have grasped some unexpected attention at this notion, but it, by all texturosifical, scientistical and tastebudoligical standards, is a…
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Welcome to Open Plate Anthropology. I’m Alexa, creator of this site based on a serious disease progression - my unrelenting obsession with food and travel. It’s lust actually. Food lust.
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