10. Make sure that your car is an ecosystem. Coffee cups, moldy mason jars, sun-bleached parking passes, a small beetle infestation. The beetles, or something like them, are key. You want shit crawling on people who enter your car, because then they are also trash, and you are not alone. One of us, one of us, one of us.
Read MoreEach week, Rocko D. writes into Kill Pretty to let the audience know about the newest slang for buying, taking, and dealing drugs. While we at Kill Pretty don’t condone Rocko D.’s lifestyle, we do appreciate the space he fills on our site, and his desire to keep you - our customers - safe.
Read MoreA struggling trio group of musicians decide to self-inflict a handicap to heighten their other senses and improve their playing. The first member gouges out his eyeballs. The second member cuts off his ears. The third member slices off his ball sack. The first two members get mad at number three for not following the instructions correctly. However, after having attempted to play music upon their first set as a maimed trio, it appears that player three is the only one to have progressed...and not just by a little, tenfold.
Read MoreI’ve lost the reign of “King Swinging Dick” in my household. We all live in a huge house together and I was once the golden child of my 14 roommates lives when I came home. They were like hungry little puppies yearning for attention and lapping up every stupid story I would bring home. What was work like? Who was that girl you brought over last week? Can you drive me to the pharmacy to get my prescription filled?
Read MoreI paint graffiti. I paint graffiti but not in a way you’d expect. Instead of hitting the streets, tagging my name on walls and billboards I go underground. Many people don’t know this but Los Angeles, as well as every city, has tunnels running under it. No, these aren’t sewers carrying LA citizens precious excrement away from their toilets, these are the tunnels that take rain water from the mountains and bring it to the sea. So I go into these tunnels, underground, and I paint.
Read MoreEach week, Rocko D. writes into Kill Pretty to let the audience know about the newest slang for buying, taking, and dealing drugs. While we at Kill Pretty don’t condone Rocko D.’s lifestyle, we do appreciate the space he fills on our site, and his desire to keep you - our customers - safe.
Read MoreWe had the whole staff chew dip for a week and all spit into the same jar. We threw ice in the jar and had a professional photographer shoot the jar. Can you guess which jar contains cold brew and which contains tobacco spit?? FUN!
Read MoreThere are people spilling into the street; the sidewalk is overflowing with kids smoking Camels and drinking Miller High-Life. I say kids, but they could be my age, maybe they’re older, but I doubt it. It doesn’t matter; they’re having the kind of fun that has an undercurrent of frenetic youth. For some reason I don’t feel comfortable ordering an Uber on a street like this, full of people with multi-colored hair drinking cheap beer, this is how Troma movies begin. I tell Tyler that I’m going to walk a few blocks and order a car.
Read MoreDiving back into the dating world after three years was the proverbial equivalent of diving off the Bay Bridge in December into the frigid waters below. It’s an ice-cold electronic world out there and I’m just an out of touch fisherman trying to reel in the big catch with out catching fish herpes or getting scales on my dick.
Read MoreEach week, Rocko D. writes into Kill Pretty to let the audience know about the newest slang for buying, taking, and dealing drugs. We’re not saying that we like what Rocko D. does, but we need content.
Read MoreSo it’s 2007, I’m 17 years old and I just left the (REDACTED) Juvenile Academy. I’m at my grandmother's house and I’m not sure how Maggie got there. Maggie’s 25 and by this point she’s already fucked so many people in my family including my pops and my step-mom.
Read MoreHe was a good man.
You should try the casserole.
I’ve heard that drowning is much less painful than scientists believe.
Anything I can do, anything at all…
You think there’s room in there for two?
Before his spirit passed did he utter the syllable which cannot be heard?
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