I Feel This Way About You

You are the cute man I end up sitting next to on the train. We play that face game and eventually start talking. Everything we say to one another is perfect, charming and funny. I can barely look into your eyes, but every time I do, it's like reaffirming. Time goes by faster than the train and suddenly my stop comes and because I have to be somewhere by a certain time I awkwardly end the conversation and I get off the train. I feel like the biggest fuckup. I should've gotten your number. I should've asked your name. I should've stayed on the fucking train.

The train passes me by.

I will never, ever have one more chance at things.

New Gloom Cupboard & Dogzplot

Nice person Allie Dresser put my Losing the Pee Argument from Nobody Trusts a Black Magician in the pretty new issue of Gloom Cupboard. Some good stories in there folks. Read them.


Nice person Barry Graham gave a wittle wun of mine a home at Dogzplot. Also nice ones in there by my buddies Ani Smith and Matt debenedictis.

There is a lot of my stuff hitting at once. Sorry for the deluge.

okay,so maybe dan scannell doesn't hate me after all...

Hi.

I finally got back into Thieves Jargon ! It’s with a piece I am really fond of called, “And the Spider”.

I wrote the first draft of this long-hand, in my blue notebook right before dawn, while hungover/still drunk lying on a carpeted floor in someone’s random bedroom.

I hope you like it.

Oh, and I’m thankful for shit, especially all of you.

2012 Is a Laugh Riot

Here is a new one up at Metazen.

Thank you Frank Hinton!

Here is a familiar one over at Camroc Press Review

Thank you Barry BaSden!

Um, WOW!

I'm in the spotlight!

Thanks Jason!

i am wearing a scarf but i am not going anywhere, like, i am indoors now, wearing a scarf.

This morning I saw two deer and a rainbow. One end of the rainbow was right next to me and I thought about the pot of gold and how, if it really existed, it had to be at the other end because all I saw was grass and bushes.

Of course.

I am so glad I’m not eating Taco Bell right now.

I had the most amazing cup of coffee today. It was served in a really satisfying mug. The mug was white ceramic, and rounded in a soft U shape. It was fat and round, almost like a bowl with a handle, but not ridiculous.

The coffee was dark brown, almost black; reminded me of my eyes. The creamer was served in a cold, white ceramic container. It looked like something you’d serve sake from. It was also satisfying. I loved picking it up and pouring the cream into my coffee.

I put one packet and a half of fake sugar into the coffee and stirred it. At this point, I had no idea how amazing this coffee would be. I was simply going through the motions one goes through when one prepares one’s coffee while waiting to order their breakfast. At this point in my day, I did not know that eight hours later in my day I would still be daydreaming over this very cup of coffee I was about to imbibe.

I lifted the cup to my lips and drank the coffee. It was incredible. Seriously. Perfection.

I immediately remarked on the amazingness of the coffee. I drank some more. I remarked some more. I kept drinking and remarking. Pretty soon, the coffee was finished.

In a little while the waitress came by with a pot on her ‘refill round’. I told her how I felt about the coffee and asked her what kind of coffee it was. She said it was some Bolivian organic something something. The way she said it was like it was unimportant and not special at all. I really wanted someone with which to match my excitement about the coffee. Someone who also wanted to make a t-shirt proclaiming their love for this coffee I was enjoying. But there was, apparently, no one.

I finished a second cup, and if I hadn’t had eaten breakfast I would’ve had a third.

All day I’ve been thinking about the coffee and how I want to jump in the car and drive back there just to get a cup.

Thinking about that coffee was the only reason I wrote this. I needed to tell you guys how great this coffee was. It was soooo good.

You guys, the coffee was SO good.

>>>i parked and walked along this very long building. I was in the shade. There were no cars. I had my cool shoes on. My jeans were tight from the dryer. My legs felt long. I had on sunglasses. I was feeling good; walking.


=+=+=+I got in my car. It is a stickshift. I drove a stickshift car to the drugstore. I feel proud of myself that I drive a stickshift. I bought a stupid birthday card in the drugstore. It is a picture of a hot dog in a bun and on the inside it says something like, "I bet you didn't think you'd be getting a paper weiner for your birthday." What does that even mean? I think maybe the card people were trying to make a sex joke, but it's not clear. So, I bought the card because it is stupid.

I also bought; eyeliner, conditioner, cheese crackers, leg shaver razors and that's all.


^^^^^I went to a mexican grill type restaraunt. I ordered a salad. I got the salad in less than 12 seconds. I was surprised. I sat down at a table by myself facing the front of the store where the windows are. I began to eat my salad. A man came in and ordered food. When he got his food, he sat at the table in front of mine and instead of sitting with his back to me and facing the window, he sat with his back to the window and was facing me. It was uncomfortable with him facing me. I became overtly aware of how i was eating and chewing and drinking. Why did he have to do this? It messed me up for the rest of my salad.

++++ I went to Old Navy. I tried on one pair of jeans and some long sleeved tshirts. The jeans were too small and i felt fat. The tshirts looked awesome and were low cut and made my boobs look hot. I probably can't wear these shirts to work unless i put a tank top on underneath. If I wear them to work without a tank top on underneath, the guys in the warehouse will bring me boxes all day long for no reason.

*****I wrote this yesterday because I knew today, Saturday, I would not be at a computer.

The end.

Team Edward

1. Karaoke
-Correct pronunciation, carry-oakee. This is a type of performance art where drunk people can feel like they are rock stars. It is usually performed at bars or on cruise ships. It is something I can be awesome at after I am brown belt wasted. Favorite numbers include: Sweet Caroline, Semi-Charmed Life, Santeria and that song about when the dogs smell her by Stone Temple Pilots. Favorite movements include I don’t know, so drunk. So very drunk.

2. Wild Rice
Fact: Wild rice is scary looking. Wild rice looks like dried up bug husks or things taken off a tree you would find in a Tim Burton film. I could glue wild rice all over my body and pretend to be an alien and cops would shoot at me in order to save the children. Fact: Wild rice tastes good despite its appearance. It’s surprisingly chewy and delicious. It is like a thin girl hidden inside a fatter girl. It could also be like a fat girl hidden inside an obese girl. Conclusion: Don’t be afraid of wild rice or fat girls.

3. Karaoke and Wild Rice
Truth: I can’t remember the last time I karaoked. I have this recurring fantasy that I play out in my head where I go up on stage because people I want to impress are in the audience who peer pressure me into singing so I begrudgingly go and then when I start singing I am as good as Kelly Clarkson or Roberta Flack or that lady with the eyebrow problem from that talent show and all of the people I want to impress are completely impressed and blown away and in this fantasy I feel fantastic and like I am great. Seriously. I play out this scenario ALL THE TIME IN MY HEAD. You now are privy to my patheticism. (made up word)

Truth: I had wild rice last night. It was a fat girl inside an obese girl. You should try it.