Status Updates From X

A throughline with all of the protagonist that New York just DOES THAT to, is that they all go there after falling in fucking love, barf. Is anyone even born in NYC?

Lee's inner world is wild. Yeah I mean, whom amongst us hasn't run across one or two life-changing femdom nightmares in our time? (???)

Okay, the cop-loving true-crime podcasters are probably the funniest and most salient thing in this entire novel.

Since I only read ironypoisoned novels about New York and haven't been there, I have no idea whether or not the thing where you put an 'x' where the 'a' in 'man' would be (e.g. dobermxn) is legit and real or what. It's tough.

My instinct from this novel is that I don't think cis people are allowed to mince.

"I don't remember the therapist's name, or even what she looked like (do straight women look like anything at all?)"

Oof, lmao.

No, I think it's wonderful that our protagonist gets to join in and double-cuck one of Camille's regulars with the strap. "Stunt cocking is so easy, sometimes I think I was born to do it."

Oh sick, medical smut? *Surgical*, even??

Idk if our protagonist qualifies as "really weird". I mean sure, getting off to bestgore clippings is kinda weird, but I dunno. Guro by any other name?

"At least Kafka's labyrinths were analog." Digging the melding of a deportation-happy government with the modern digital/nondigital formfilling hell.

"I would have once looked at this dog and thought, She shits in public and can't eat chocolate without dying. What's to envy? But something has changed. I would never have noticed before that this dog is beautiful and content and will never have to know that the Great Barrier Reef is gone forever."

Very astute! What a way to live, indeed.

Gotta be real, getting spanked so hard the ladle breaks sounds like more fun than shrinking in fear every time a plate breaks, expecting someone to get mad.

So... okay, the reason I don't have hardcore kinks is because my mother did not spank me improperly and she never washed my mouth out with soap. I follow, I follow. Stuck in a pointless middleground of really mild shit from childhood. No aftercare, I guess.

I guess our protagonist is one of those "it was the only time I FELT something" types, which I can't say I dislike.

Cracked this open to catch the latest episode of "New York Just DOES That To People!" and lo I am charmed:

"A Lynndie England fetish, I figured. And here I was to play bottom for her--a political prisoner, demeaned for the Polaroids. Abu Ghraib must have really been something for the right kind of American preteen.