About
My name’s Avery. Here are some things:
- I live in Queens, NY. A few days ago, I saw an old lady spit on a pigeon.
- I’m an actor on the UCB sketch comedy team, BEIGE. We perform once a month. If you live in NY, you should come see a show.
- I wrote some books with my friend Jory. There will be more books soon! You should buy them so I can make my student loan payments.
- Here’s a thing I wrote for McSweeney’s a few weeks ago.
- The week before I started high school, I went on this little mandatory camping trip with some of my classmates-to-be. Somehow, I got stuck in a 1-person tent with another guy, Alex Lewis. It felt like a coffin made of nylon and mesh. There we were — two awkward almost-high schoolers, trying to figure out if we should sleep foot-to-head or head-to-head and risk accidental spooning. That night, I got food poisoning or something, and I woke up at 3 am, groggy and disoriented and desperately groping for zippers and straps to get out of that goddamned tent in time. I didn’t quite make it. I threw up all over everything. Everything. Here’s the thing, though: Alex Lewis didn’t wake up. So the choice before me was: do I let this guy — this stranger — continue to sleep happily in a pool of my vomit, hoping that everything will be easier to deal with in the morning, when we emerge like twin butterflies from our puke-filled cocoon? Or do I wake him up at 3 in the morning and cause a big stir? It was also really fucking cold, you should know, and it’s REALLY unpleasant to be cold and awake and covered in barf at 3am. So I chose to let him sleep. I’m sorry, Alex Lewis. I’m sorry we got stuck in such a comically small tent. And I’m sorry that those zippers were so hard to find in the dark. And I’m sorry that you broke your leg the next week and we all called you Krutchie for four years.
If it’s your first time on m’blog, here are a few things to catch you up:
