A day and a half after meeting at Moose’s Saloon, Jude and I boarded a raft with his pit bull and began floating down the north fork of the Flathead River.
He called himself a mountain man, and was eager to guide a city girl on life in the outdoors.
“We’re going down the river, going to have a Montana adventure today… because we’re craaaZAY!” he sang loudly, as other people sailed by.
I hadn’t showered in three days because I was sleeping in the car to save money, but Jude didn’t seem to care. Neither did his dog, who kept leaping into my lap. Jude grinned, turned up some [...]
"On the floor of one cavern, officers discovered an ominous metal container. The object was fat, festooned with wires. The police called in the bomb squad, they evacuated the surface, they asked themselves: What have we found? They had found a couscous maker." —"When I say secret society, you imagine, I don't know, like, in Eyes Wide Shut."
Awl Occasional Contributing Photographer Stephen Kosloff was in Haiti from November 20 to November 30 to take pictures of the cholera epidemic and national elections, which were held on November 28. Here are 26 of his shots.
A Haitian student walking home through Petionville, in Port au Prince.
The port-a-potty situation is universally humbling. The brand is Honey Bucket, which is so gross and psychosexually radioactive a name that the excreta deposited and vacuumed out of them gains a strange and terrible power over our imaginations. Retching sounds and maniacal laughter alike drift from the banks of plastic shitboxes scattered throughout the camping area. A mysterious chalk homage to the waste receptacles appears at the venue gate. Legends spread of Honey Buckets where the filth rises above the level of the toilet seat. Pissing in the thick heat of one, I'm suddenly able to hear, from some far-off stage, the distinct and chipper chorus of Avi Buffalo's [...]
From time to time, The Awl likes to explain to Internet denizens what the world beyond the great inside is like. Here is one such explanation, describing a recent trip to locations on the Eastern seaboard of the United States.
We had missed the parade. Or maybe it was somewhere else. The sidewalk was packed with bad faces. A guy had his pants down and was trying to walk. The cops were wearing long leather jackets. I grew up in Jersey, and I remembered bad faces, but I couldn't remember cops ever wearing jackets like that, leather and big gold buttons. Every bar had a line out the door. [...]