If I could have Roxane Gay follow me around for the rest of my life contextualizing my experiences as processed through her personal brain filter, I would have no more wishes for my genie, even if he insisted that I had two wishes left. I would tell him to fuck off, I’m all set: I’ve got Roxane Gay. I’m going to re-read this one. Probably twice or thrice. She is my new best friend. She is the smartest person I know (I don’t know her). […]