Welcome to the April 2026 issue of Defenestration! It’s our first issue of 2026 and the start of our 23rd volume. You might be thinking, “Twenty-three years isn’t that long!” but let me tell you, gentle reader, that in the time Defenestration has been around, I got married, started a family, and now the oldest
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I first met red light therapy in a gym bathroom, where all great romances begin. Above the urinals was a poster of a man whose pores looked like polished apples. “ARE YOU TIRED OF BEING A SAD POTATO?” the poster asked. “BATHE IN PHOTOBIOMODULATION.” The model’s face glowed the specific shade of emergency escape signage. His smile said, “I don’t get sick anymore,” and also, “I definitely sell crypto.”
The whole thing stemmed from me trying to have sex with Carson Constance Abernathy III. For the gay male readers, I’ll save you the trouble of reading further: he wasn’t attractive.
I settled into the sofa, preparing to gorge myself on the brainless mind-candy of a trashy magazine—specifically, a deep dive into whether Carrot Top or Kathy Griffin was the “truer” redhead. It was the kind of low-stakes feud I lived for. When the phone rang, I didn’t even look at the caller ID. I just crabbed, “Whoever this is, make it quick. I’m in the middle of a ginger-war.”
“Did anyone find it unusual that your aunt was…”
“A Furby?”
“…so small?”
Cousin Geoff and I looked at each other. We were both clutching sodas.
“Usually nobody mentions that,” said Cousin Geoff uncomfortably.
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know.”