WE ARE YOUR FEK

THIS IS A FEK'S TUMBLR. FEKS ARE INDIGENOUS TO THE DESERT BUT EVENTUALLY MIGRATE EAST TO LIVE AMONGST ALL OF THE OTHER YOUNG SEMITES. YOU CAN OFTEN FIND A FEK WRITING FOR YOUNG MANHATTANITE, ANIMAL NEW YORK, THE AWL, AND OTHER ASSORTED PUBLICATIONS THAT DON'T PAY FOR HIS SHIT. SOMETIMES, NOWADAYS, A FEW (BLACKBOOK, GAWKER, FLAVORWIRE) THAT DO. YOU CAN Email a fek at cumberlandprojects [at] gmail [dot] com. GODSPEED.

Oh, man.

Mo and I have recieved our next mission: Party Crash at the National Book Awards. Seeing as how our first two caused a decent amount of trouble, I have no doubt that this one will (A) get the least amount of traffic and (B) be the most fun. Mo in a party dress, me in a suit (maybe even: a fucking tux), getting plastered at Cipriani and assaulting Dave Eggers, Junot Diaz, Andy Borowitz, Colum McCann, and crazy ass senile old Gore Vidal (in that order). FYI, a National Book Award nomnation looks like this. My mission is to get a picture of Mo wearing one with this and one of these along for the ride. Intended effect something like this.

I am excited.

Nov
20096

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