Lifestyle
Painful sex? Broken vaginas? This underground zine normalizes the taboo
One night as she was lying in bed, Becky Feldman wondered, “Do I remember how to have sex?”
It had been at least a decade since the L.A.-based writer and performer tried to have intercourse. She had avoided it throughout her 20s for a few reasons: 1) She thought dating or being in a heterosexual relationship meant that she had to have penetrative sex, which wasn’t an option for her because it was too painful. 2) Several doctors had brushed off her pain, telling her that she just needed to relax. (After years of being misdiagnosed, she learned that she had a condition known as vulvodynia (a general term for chronic pain around the vulva). 3) All of the above weighed heavily on her self-esteem and confidence.
When Feldman turned 30, she realized that she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life closing herself off from intimacy and pleasure. That’s when she decided to take the advice of her sex therapist and connect with a high-class male escort, she said.
The night didn’t turn out exactly as she’d hoped. She and the guy made out but didn’t have sex. Her takeaway from the experience? For the first time, she was able to confidently tell a potential sex partner about her condition. Not only did he believe her, he tried to understand her pain unlike her previous partners or her doctors.
This is just one of the intimate stories featured in Opening Up, a zine created by grassroots organization Tight Lipped, which advocates for people with chronic vulvovaginal and pelvic pain. The 80-page zine, which was first published in 2020, is filled with art illustrations, Q&A interviews, handwritten letters and poems from people living with conditions including vulvodynia, vestibulodynia (a form of vulvodynia and a general term for pain in the vestibule), pelvic-floor dysfunction (when the pelvic floor muscles function abnormally) and vulvar lichen sclerosus (a skin condition that primarily affects the genital skin).
The cover of Tight Lipped’s zine Opening Up.
(Kelly Fry)
Up to 28% of women deal with these physical conditions, which affect people’s daily lives when it comes activities such as having sex, using tampons and wearing pants, according to a 2013 study published in the American Journal of Obstetrics & Gynecology that polled nearly 20,000 women. (This study doesn’t appear to be inclusive of all gender identities.)
Because these medical issues aren’t required study in most residency programs, including those for gynecologists, many patients are misdiagnosed or aren’t given a diagnosis at all from their doctor. Also, for some people, the shame and embarrassment related to having one of these conditions keeps them from seeking treatment altogether.
“It was the scariest thing I think I’ve ever done — ever,” Feldman said about sharing her story in the zine. She learned about Tight Lipped via its podcast and responded to a submissions call-out to contribute to the zine. But “I’m happy that people are able to feel seen and heard through this,” said Feldman, who also talks about her medical condition through her solo comedy show, “Tight: A Night of Painfully Sexy Stories” which she’s performed in small theaters around L.A.
“I think so many people just relate to it,” she said.
That was Noa Fleischacker’s hope when she and other members of the Tight Lipped community decided to create Opening Up. Since her younger years, Fleischacker, Tight Lipped’s founder and executive director, has struggled to use tampons. She also couldn’t complete pap smear exams and she found penetrative sex to be painful. She was eventually diagnosed with pelvic-floor dysfunction.
Shortly after, she launched the Tight Lipped podcast, which allows her to talk about how these conditions affect people’s relationships, gender and sexual identities, and their overall daily lives. She also formed the patient-led organization for people with similar conditions. In November 2019, she hosted a weekend-long workshop in New York for people with vulvovaginal and pelvic pain. She said hearing people’s stories inspired the zine.
“I saw what happens when you put people in a room, and they hear each other say the same things that they’ve only thought to themselves,” said Fleischacker, a former political organizer in Chicago. “So it felt like: ‘OK, we have to find a way of creating something that not just makes people feel less alone but makes people understand the kind of bigger and political story about their pain and the medical experiences that they’re having.’”
Tight Lipped used donations to make the Opening Up zine. Since publishing Opening Up, the organization has distributed more than 750 print copies of the zine to individuals and doctor’s offices. (It sells for a suggested donation of $30. A free digital version allows people to listen to the contributors read their stories.)
Opening Up features entries from more than 50 contributors of various ages and backgrounds who come from L.A., San Francisco, Seattle, Chicago, Brooklyn and Indianapolis as well Australia, Canada, France, the U.K. and Germany.
(Julianna Brion / For The Times)
In Opening Up, there’s an entry from a 78-year-old woman, who wrote about how vulvodynia affected her marriage. Another entry tells the story of a woman who added her conditions — vulvodynia and pelvic-floor pain — to her dating app profiles to inform potential suitors. Some of the entries are anonymous, and content warnings appear on stories that discuss sensitive topics such as sexual assault.
For Kevinn Poree, 37, of New Orleans, reading the zine brought her comfort.
“I felt like, ‘Oh my God, I understand where you’re coming from,’” said Poree, who discovered Tight Lipped on social media after she was diagnosed with vaginismus and later provoked vestibulodynia (vestibule pain that occurs with pressure). “Even if you don’t necessarily have the same condition or the same symptoms, it was just so shocking and alarming that most of us have gone through the exact same experiences with providers and with stigma and dealing with friends and family and partners.”
“It was just very cathartic,” said Poree, who has since become a community member of Tight Lipped.
It took nearly a decade and about a dozen doctors for Keena Batti, 33, of Los Angeles, to receive a diagnosis for vulvar lichen sclerosus, pelvic-floor dysfunction and hormonally mediated vestibulodynia (which causes urinary urgency and frequency as well as pain during urination and penetration). She developed the latter condition from taking birth control, she said. After reading Opening Up, she asked her pelvic-floor therapist and gynecologist if they could display the zines in their L.A. offices. They happily obliged.
After a series of unpleasant and embarrassing doctor’s visits, Batti said she wonders if having the zine sooner could’ve helped her prove to others that her “experience is not uncommon.”
“I think it’s really powerful as a patient to see a tangible example of your own experience in print,” said Batti, one of the team leaders for Tight Lipped’s L.A. chapter. (The organization has chapters in San Diego, New Haven, Conn., and New York. Additional chapters in the U.S. are expected to open this year.)
“So hopefully as we continue to distribute it, we can catch more of those people who are feeling isolated,” Batti said.
Dr. Rachel Rubin, a board-certified urologist and sexual medicine specialist, said she has seen the effect of having the zine available in her office has had on her Washington, D.C.-area patients.
“It’s really powerful and important,” said Rubin, one of a handful of physicians with training in sexual medicine for all genders, about the zine. (She completed her fellowship with Dr. Irwin Goldstein in San Diego.)
“We can’t know what questions need to be answered if we’re not talking to people who actually have the questions,” said Rubin, who’s also the chair of Tight Lipped’s medical advisory board of 14 health-care providers. “So it’s a no-brainer to work with [Tight Lipped] because the more the patient advocates and doctors that can work together, the more change that we’ll see faster.”
In 2022, Tight Lipped launched a campaign for OB-GYN residency programs to include vulvovaginal and pelvic pain curriculum. The organization’s first major win was at Yale School of Medicine, which will offer this area of study as an elective for residents, according to Dr. Yonghee Cho, an assistant professor of obstetrics, gynecology and reproductive sciences at the school.
Fleischacker said Tight Lipped is hoping to work with Cedars-Sinai Medical Center and USC on future curriculum.
Sarah Ponce, 25, initially planned to become a primary-care physician when she enrolled in medical school at USC in 2021. But after she was diagnosed with acquired neuroproliferative vestibulodynia (pain that begins as a severe allergic reaction to a topical medication or is stemmed from a severe yeast infection), she realized that she was most passionate about urology.
“I’ve experienced the health inequities and disparities that come with being a female with pain and I know a bunch of other patients who have too,” said Ponce, a third-year medical student at USC. She added that she wants to change that.
As a Tight Lipped organizer, she’s assisting with the group’s campaign at her school. She also has helped host free pelvic health workshops at Los Angeles General Medical Center.
Tight Lipped also wants to make change on a federal level. When President Biden announced the first White House initiative on women’s health in November, the organization sent a letter with signatures from more than 800 patients, medical students and healthcare experts to call for chronic vulvovaginal and pelvic pain to be included as a priority area of focus.
All of this gives Ponce, Feldman, Poree and others hope.
In the zine’s foreword, the creators make it clear that Opening Up isn’t just for people who are coping with these conditions. Rather they encourage people to share the publication with everyone they know including their romantic partners, doctors, high-school sex education teachers, family and friends.
“It’s going to take more than just all the patients,” Poree said. “I think that the more the general public knows about these conditions, the easier it is for people to talk about them and get directed to the help that they need.”
Lifestyle
President Trump to add his own name to the Kennedy Center
President Donald Trump stands in the presidential box as he visits the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, D.C, on March 17, 2025.
Jim Watson/AFP via Getty Images
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Jim Watson/AFP via Getty Images
The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts will now have a new name — the “Trump-Kennedy Center.” White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt announced the news on social media Thursday, saying that the board of the center voted unanimously for the change, “Because of the unbelievable work President Trump has done over the last year in saving the building.”
Shortly after the announcement, Ohio Democrat Rep. Joyce Beatty, an ex-officio member of the board, refuted the claim that it was a unanimous vote. “Each time I tried to speak, I was muted,” she said in a video posted to social media. “Participants were not allowed to voice their concern.”
When asked about the call, Roma Daravi, vice president of public relations at the Kennedy Center, sent a statement reiterating the vote was unanimous: “The new Trump Kennedy Center reflects the unequivocal bipartisan support for America’s cultural center for generations to come.”
Other Democrats in Congress who are ex-officio members of the Kennedy Center Board, including Sen. Chuck Schumer and Rep. Hakeem Jeffries issued a statement stating that the president is renaming the institution “without legal authority.”
“Federal law established the Center as a memorial to President Kennedy and prohibits changing its name without Congressional action,” the statement reads.


Earlier this year, Trump installed himself as the chairman of the center, firing former president Deborah Rutter and ousting the previous board chair David Rubenstein, along with board members appointed by President Biden. He then appointed a new board, including second lady Usha Vance, White House Chief of Staff Susie Wiles, Fox News host Laura Ingraham and more.

Trump hinted at the name change earlier this month, when he took questions before becoming the first president to host the Kennedy Center Honors. He deferred to the board when asked directly about changing the name but said “we are saving the Kennedy Center.”

The president was mostly hands off with the Kennedy Center during his first term, as most presidents have been. But he’s taking a special interest in it in his second term, touring the center and promising to weed out programming he doesn’t approve of. His “One Big Beautiful Bill” included $257 million for the building’s repairs and maintenance.
Originally, it was called The National Cultural Center. In 1964, two months after President Kennedy was assassinated, President Lyndon Johnson signed legislation authorizing funds to build what would become the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts.
Lifestyle
How one L.A. immigrant’s quest spawned generations of Christmas tree sellers
It’s mid-November, a full week before Thanksgiving, and the progeny of Francisco Robles, a Mexican immigrant who peddled watermelons in East L.A., have converged in West Covina to commemorate the 76th year of the family’s seasonal business: selling fresh Christmas trees around L.A. from the forests of the Pacific Northwest.
Francisco and his wife, Lucia, left Mexico for a better life in the early 1900s, so it’s hard to imagine what they would make of their thoroughly Americanized descendants today. One of them is looking for a place to plug in her electric car; another is zipping around the large lot on a motorized scooter; and a third is carrying a large, elaborately framed photo of their mother, “the Queen of our hearts,” who died on Mother’s Day, so she can be part of the family photo commemorating the 2025 tree season.
The Robles’ 76-year-old grandson, Louis Jr., is keeping track of today’s Christmas tree delivery from a folding chair, wearing horn-rim glasses, slacks and a white, open-neck dress shirt. But most of his family — his three adult children, their spouses and a few of his grandchildren — are casually dressed in red “Robles Christmas Trees”-themed sweatshirts or holiday leggings, laughing and posing for cellphone photos under a huge red-and-white striped tent in the parking lot of the bustling Plaza West Covina mall.
Louis Robles Jr., 76, right, listens as his children go over an inventory list of Christmas trees delivered to his son Gabriel Robles’ lot at Plaza West Covina on Nov. 19. Gabriel stands at his father’s left, beside his wife Kathy Robles. His sister, Lorraine Robles-Acosta, far left, looks over paperwork about the trees that will next be delivered to her lot in Montebello.
All the pumpkin patch trimmings from October have been put away — the petting zoo, towering inflatable slides, Cyglos and other rides — and now the family is setting up Christmas decor and stands for the trees that will soon be delivered.
It’s a far cry from the dusty streets where Francisco Robles sold his watermelons from a truck more than a century ago. By the end of this day, the massive 53-foot-truck will have delivered its icy bundles of Nordmann, noble and silvertip firs — what Louis Jr. calls “the Cadillac of Christmas trees” — to all three of their lots in Eagle Rock, Plaza West Covina and the Montebello mall.
The Robles family is eager to get the Christmas tree lots going. Sales were slower than usual at their pumpkin patches this year, a slump they blame on Immigration and Customs Enforcement raid concerns among their large Latino customer base.
Antonio Villatoro, left, closes a hatch after moving trees, while Javier Vasquez, looks on at Robles Christmas Trees run by Gabriel Robles at Plaza West Covina.
The Robles family adds festive decor and places for photos to their Christmas tree lots such as this wall at Gabriel Robles’ business at Plaza West Covina.
Members of the Robles family talk carefully about ICE and immigration. They are business people and deeply religious — Louis Jr. is an assistant pastor at the Living Word Apostalic Church in El Monte, where they attended as a family for years — and they want to keep their politics private.
“But we are not fearful,” said Gabriel Robles. “We’ve lived here all our lives, born and raised here, and we’ve been through so much. I believe this ICE issue is another moment in time. It will pass like COVID happened and passed, and we can stand whatever they throw at us. Los Angeles is a melting pot of immigrants. We’re all unified together, no matter who is in office, and you can’t get rid of us. We are the fabric of L.A.”
Getting the family together in mid-November is unusual because, from October through December, the Robleses are juggling the family business with their other jobs: Gabriel Robles, operator of the Robles Pumpkin Festival and Christmas Trees in West Covina, is an insurance broker; his wife, Kathy, is a homemaker who manages their books. Gabriel’s older sister, Lisa Nassar, operator of Cougar Mountain Pumpkin and Christmas Trees in Eagle Rock, does security screenings at Disneyland (“I keep Tinker Bell safe,” she says, laughing). Her husband, Sam Nassar, is a counselor at Mt. San Antonio College. Lorraine Robles-Acosta is a massage therapist who does lots of work for her church; her husband, Joseph Acosta, is a drug and alcohol counselor. Together, they run the Robles Pumpkin Patch and Christmas Tree Farm in Montebello.
It’s a grueling schedule, but they cling to Louis Jr.’s motto — “We’ll sleep in January” — because this business is in their blood. Not all of the younger generation of Robleses is as gung-ho about the family business as their parents are. But Gabriel and Kathy’s sons, Roman, 21, and Mason, 19, are already devising plans to improve the family’s presence on social media, and the couple’s art-loving daughter Loren, 15, set up the acrylic paints for pumpkin painting.
The Robles family’s late matriarch, Madalene Robles, smiles from a portrait held by her husband, Louis Jr., so she can be part of the family photos commemorating the start of the 2025 Christmas tree season on Nov. 19 at their son, Gabriel Robles’ lot in West Covina. Madalene Robles died on her birthday, May 11, which also happened to be Mother’s Day, her favorite holiday.
Louis Jr.’s children, Lisa, Stephen, Gabriel and Lorraine, played among the trees in their father’s tree lots, first in Monrovia in 1973, Louis Jr. says, then in Rosemead and Pico Rivera. Louis Jr. purchased a small trailer with a tiny space heater to sit on the lot so the kids could eat and rest there while he and his wife sold trees.
“That trailer was so cold at night,” said Lisa, shivering with the memory.
In those early years, when Louis Jr. worked all day at a produce warehouse with his dad before spending his evenings at his Christmas tree lot, he and Madalene used the tree money to create magical Christmases for their children.
“I remember waking up to mountains of presents under the Robles’ tree,” Lorraine said dreamily, “and Mom wrapped every single gift.”
When they were older, Lorraine and her siblings helped set up and sell the trees. They’d chase after the few scalawags who tried to steal them, and ultimately they lobbied Louis Jr. to let them have their own lots, which over time expanded from selling a few pumpkins on straw before Halloween to big pumpkin patch extravaganzas with petting zoos, art activities, inflatables and rides. (Stephen, who lives in San Diego, stepped away from the seasonal business.)
The Robles family considers silvertip firs, with their sturdy open branches and graceful form, to be the Cadillac of Christmas trees, said Gabriel Robles. They used to be plentiful, but they’re harder to find these days, he said, because they require altitude and cold to thrive.
Inflatables like bounce houses and giant slides were Gabriel’s innovation, and so popular he insisted on adding them to his Christmas tree lot too. His dad warned against the idea, but Gabriel said he was determined. He set them up at his lot and they did well for a few days. But then it rained, and his father’s logic became apparent. The inflatables never dried, Gabriel said, and the cold and mud made them even less appealing to visitors. “I still have customers to this day who say, ‘Please put the inflatables out again,’ but they don’t understand they take forever to dry.”
The Robles family is dismissive about big-box competitors (“They’ll never replace the tradition and environment you get at our lots,” said Lisa), and they collectively hiss at the mention of artificial trees.
“My dad has been worried that artificial trees get nicer and nicer, but it hasn’t really changed our sales,” Gabriel said. “The No. 1 reason people come to our lots is the fragrance. They want that fresh pine smell throughout their home, and fake sprays don’t cut it.”
Worker Jonathan Tovar, foreground, who helps with general operations, and Roman Robles, 21, background, whose father Gabriel Robles runs the lot, arrange trees while inventory is being unloaded.
The Robles family hand-select their trees every year from the farms in the Pacific Northwest. (The names of the farms are secret to keep competitors away, Gabriel said.) After the trees are delivered, the family sprays them with water every night and keeps them shaded from the sun so they don’t dry out. “That’s the secret of our success,” Gabriel said.
Louis Jr. said the biggest part of his family’s success has been adding fresh ideas to expand the business that come from each passing generation, starting with his dad, Louis.
Francisco and Lucia Robles and their five L.A.-born children lived on Brooklyn Avenue in East L.A. All three of their sons went to war for the United States, and two never came home, one lost in World War II and the other in the Korean War. Their third son, Louis Robles, served in WWII, right out of high school. He entered the Army’s 101st Airborne Division and earned a Purple Heart as one of the paratroopers who, at age 20, dropped into German-occupied France on D-day, June 6, 1944.
Paratrooper and produce wholesaler Louis Robles Sr. supplemented his income in 1949 by selling Christmas trees in L.A. In this family photo from 1955, Robles, then 31, pauses by his Robles Produce truck preparing to drive a load of fir trees from snowy Washington to his lot in Lincoln Heights. The boy at left is unindentified.
When he returned from the war, Louis joined his father selling produce, but he had bigger ideas, Louis Jr. said of his dad. He didn’t want to sell from a truck; instead, he went into the wholesale business, selling watermelons and oranges from a stall at the old Central Wholesale Produce Market at 8th Street and Central Avenue in downtown L.A. He married Elena Ramirez, who helped at the warehouse, keeping the books, and they had four children: three girls — Gail, Priscilla, Denise — and a boy, Louis Jr.
Then, in 1949, the same year his son was born, Louis Robles had another idea: Watermelon sales slowed in the winter. Oranges were plentiful year-round, but he needed another crop that could fill the income gap. He noticed how people went to the railyard in December and bought Christmas trees off boxcars, so fresh they still had ice clinging to their branches. Packing them in snow was how trees were kept fresh during transport from the Pacific Northwest.
Inspired by this, Louis Sr. found a vacant lot in Lincoln Heights and started selling Christmas trees. Being the innovator he was, he didn’t want to rely on other people’s choices for his trees. So he researched tree farms in the Pacific Northwest and visited them himself, selecting his own trees and, for a while, even driving his warehouse’s Robles Produce truck up north to transport them himself.
Lisa Nassar helps unload small Christmas trees at her brother Gabriel Robles’ Christmas tree lot at Plaza West Covina on Nov. 19. The 53-foot-long truck filled with trees from the Pacific Northwest stopped at Nassar’s lot first in Eagle Rock that morning, and would continue on to their sister Lorraine Robles-Acosta’s lot in Montebello.
Eventually, Louis Sr. bought his own produce warehouse, and Louis Jr., always a helper after school and on weekends, joined the business right after graduation. The younger Robles married his high school sweetheart, Madalene Maldonado on Jan. 4, 1969 — after the busy holiday season, of course — and they immediately started a family. Although she helped at the warehouse, Madalene’s main interest “was being a homemaker; raising her children and being a good wife,” Louis Jr. said.
Louis Sr. was considered by his family to be a taskmaster. He was generous about giving out jobs, but he didn’t tolerate people standing around at work. Laughing, Lisa said anytime you saw him coming, you grabbed a broom and started sweeping. “I still carry that mentality — there’s always something to do, even if it’s just pushing a broom,” she said.
Louis Sr. instilled that work ethic in all of his family growing up. “Grandfather was the first one out on the floor, always working and moving, and he took people up with him,” Gabriel said. “He really believed if he succeeded, you were going to succeed. It wasn’t about a handout, it was a hand up.”
Workers unloaded trees at Robles Christmas Trees run by Gabriel Robles.
Louis Sr. was well-respected by his creditors and so beloved by his employees that they insisted on filling his grave themselves after his sudden death in 1984. But the senior Robles never attended any of his son’s games in high school, Louis Jr. said, and he missed many family activities because of work.
“That was his blind spot. He always put business first,” Louis Jr. said. “I decided I wanted a balance — I would take care of business but I would also take time to go to my children’s games.”
Louis Sr. was such a force of nature, no one was prepared when he fell in December 1984. Because this was the family’s busy season, he insisted on working despite a bad cold that turned into walking pneumonia, Louis Jr. said. He told his family he would rest in January.
He almost made it. Shortly before Christmas Louis Robles had a stroke, then a heart attack and, on Dec. 27, at age 60, he died.
Gabriel Robles, right, consults with his father, Louis Robles Jr., while Gabriel’s son Mason, left, checks his phone during the first delivery of this year’s Christmas trees at his West Covina lot.
Louis Sr.’s death, so unexpected, required Louis Jr. to take over the business himself, but it also cemented his vow to put God and family first. “I remember playing in the all-stars game in baseball and looking for my dad, and he wasn’t there, and I thought, ‘I’m not going to do that to my kids,’” he said.
Gabriel laughed, saying: “My dad was so much into my basketball games, I got kind of embarrassed.”
Eventually, the watermelon and produce business became too competitive, and Louis Jr. sold the warehouse around 2012. By then, Robles Produce was debt-free, he said. His children were working, getting married and established in their own homes, and he’d been ordained as a pastor in 1999 and was deeply involved in his church. But the family pumpkin patch and Christmas tree business remained a constant.
“It does get in your blood,” said Lorraine’s husband, Joseph, with a laugh. “I got my blood transfusion when I married my wife.”
Today, Louis Jr. acts as an advisor and consultant to his children’s three pumpkin patches and Christmas tree lots. They meet to discuss pricing and inventory, but the siblings run their own lots with each a little different from the other. There are disagreements, of course, Gabriel said, “but in the end, the thing that makes us so successful is we’re united — if someone goes against us, we’re a united front.”
Louis Robles, 76, center, of El Monte, poses with three generations of his family: son Gabriel Robles, of Fontana, far left, with his daughter Loren, 15, wife Kathy, and two sons sitting up top, Mason 19, left, and Roman, 21, Louis’ daughters Lisa Nassar, of Upland, right, Lorraine Robles-Acosta, of Pomona, and Lorraine’s husband Joseph Acosta, far right, at Robles Christmas Trees in West Covina. Gabriel’s sons say they are eager to continue the family business. “I’ve been bitten by the bug,” said Mason.
It’s not clear how many of Louis Sr.’s seven great-grandchildren will continue the family business, but Gabriel’s sons, Roman and Mason, say they’re on board. Both have opted to skip college for a hands-on business course, soaking up whatever they can from their father and grandfather.
“Our great-great-grandfather started with nothing, and now we have this. And every generation we’ve built it higher,” Mason said.
“Not many kids my age are blessed to have a family business to learn from,” said Roman. “I want to do something more with my life than just showing up.”
Lifestyle
Kumail Nanjiani opens up on his regrets, critical failures and embracing fear : Wild Card with Rachel Martin
A note from Wild Card host Rachel Martin: Here’s my theory about Kumail Nanjiani: He is not a person who is afraid of his feelings. I think he’s the opposite of that kind of person.
Kumail has made his emotional life part of his comedy – whether it’s his deep and abiding love for his wife (as told in the hit movie, “The Big Sick”), his obsession with his cat or the anxiety that grips him in the middle of the night – Kumail’s brand of comedy is often about how we feel our way through living.
His new standup special is on Hulu and it’s called “Night Thoughts.”
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