Saturday, December 25, 2010

It is time

It is time, my beautiful mirror image, (is it funny to write "again?") for what we have always had. Don't let's mention "harmony" either because that is your idea and you have very stupid taste. Your bad taste and your senseless humor owe to those unlashed eyes with no envy, perfect mirror. This time was long or short and strange — you would say singular — but not itself again yet. Again, after all. Well, your reflection is so beautiful; I envy it.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

miss you, thanks

i think maybe the bad feelings i am feeling are a quesadilla scorned. that is lucky for the two big glasses of wine to either side of my computer. lucky for me too? for us? donkey kong?
i had thanksgiving with my family. next to my parents' house's little downstairs bed is a pocket george carlin quote book on the nightstand and seeing it made me miss george. he joked with real feeling and he knew how to use words either for or against his audiences.
one birthday in high school sam gave me rant in e-minor and i would fall asleep to it downstairs. bill died when i was 6 in atlanta. our kitchen then had fresh pine green grout and for five minutes every school day while mom made breakfast i would throw an afghan over the floor vent and curl up in my clothes on my side between this blanket and the new tile in a blow of warm air. and like a fetus i would listen to her tv for bush and hussein and clinton and gays in the military to make news on our refinished countertop. bill's material was still fresh in high school. and is today. i also miss bill.
what else should i say about thanksgiving? i hope i'm not feeling the turkey. i ate this quesadilla for lunch but have felt crummy all day. and in my sleep. and last night. i was bumped into first class both ways so maybe that could be it.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Things I Fucking Love, Vol. 15

these cuttlefish

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Man our moon looks good. Like an infinite dimensional curve in either direction of the toilet. Like a bird eye. Like autocorrect poetry. Like me!

But I bet all people look at their moons that way.

Do straight people exist?

Yes, I believe they do. There is a continuum, right? And people should be able to have happiness all in one place. I have biblical knowledge of womanhood and while it wasn't for me in a long-term way it's nice to know about. But you do not need to know everything to be happy.

Friday, October 29, 2010

(i'm drinking)

any excuse that works for you i get to use too, which is all my fault. right?

guilt is this ethical quality i keep hearing of as if to suggest that i do not really know. well i do really know (i'm drinking here) but don't think it's our problem. mine, i mean.

pronouns were a bad choice, obviously, but that isn't my problem either.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

fellas, fellas

i feel the flying saucers abducting my decoy. like i am loosing weight in my playlist or youtube or whatever. i feel like that at least.




dear fellas with dream color eyes,
there is a problem with your perfect face. i saw this facebook picture of your halloween costume and i thought the letters on your hood were supposed to be backward. but the picture is obviously of a mirror so it's only turned around. then i saw the problem with your face: it is perfectly symmetrical. you look exactly the same in a mirror, which is weird. anyway, i still want your dick. do you eat brunch?

Tuesday, October 19, 2010



personal color

ben says we could have sex if it were justified like it automatically makes sense to him that sleeping with me is justifiable. well it certainly is nice that he treats me with love instead of respect but it is tricky to talk about. i can neither love nor respect anyone 'cause it's all about me. i just get attention and it's fun and easy. or beautiful.

Friday, October 08, 2010

hurry please, sensible faith

maybe like a thimble or thumb thing. just draw attention to it in general. that has to be healthy, right? i hope so. yeah.

Thursday, September 30, 2010


let us pile the pillows and cushions into a fort
then let us pretent to cry about our failure as

Tuesday, September 28, 2010


"jesus' shit, judas' jizz"
- a satisfied parishioner

are you
the wrong size?
already died???

The REFORMED Church Of Better Living Through Self-Medication,

we got rid of
The Kiddy Fiddlers
and Crufty Old God
soooooo we're just saddling our


COME for
sweet & sour communion,
STAY for "Eternity"

ThE cHuRcH oF bEtTeR lIvInG tHrOuGh SeLf-mEdIcAtIoN

i mean

for more information,

Friday, September 24, 2010


our shit smells the same
if we play a no good game
w/ ur dir ty name

planning parenthood

1. kill her while she's down
2. fuck her while she's dead

Thursday, September 23, 2010



Thursday, September 16, 2010

confidence recipe

some stuff is happening and stuff is short for emotional stuff. i try to put it in, pull it apart, and poop it out like eating. that is short for survival, digestion, and nutrition. it's going ok or even really well. just cannot be too obvious about it. you know.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Things I Fucking Love, Vol. 14

not to mention comprehension

Tuesday, September 07, 2010

future tops

in my parents' house's downstairs bathroom shower how ok is it to fuck my phantasm teenaged boy body whose ripe asshole was forbidden fruit at the time? it's pretty ok in a teen wet dream time machine shower hour ('cause that's how long the hot water lasts), right?

i'm like a big and thoughtful cucumber. i have one thing to say very slowly and it makes a lot of cucumber sense. i am talking to myself now which is unlike me. the water is hot.

let's sit on the little seat in the shower mould with you on me and the shaky sliding fiberglass door. hold yourself. open your eyes. see that cock? we are the same! enjoy it while you can sweet child, the water is still warm.

he means i am proud of this curiosity or jealousy or whatever about your confusion in a timely dream like some perfect accident. and he means well. oh no, you already came! it's time to stop now. the water isn't hot anyway.

basically i will fuck the fantasy of any memory of me after the habitat for humanity day when i think i was like 14 and 1/2. when masturbation was an education or an invention or something. when i could have been the thomas edison of slutty fruits and vegetables.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

cellular miracle

bigger stakes inside my head. please remember that i tried. temptation does not taste of ash (until it is satisfied).

i keep him in his upstairs room (with the stakes) where he plays just my games. we play them together and love each other like boys past bedtime.

other people's better things are all around but they don't belong. i will build this house until the cellular miracle is too good to pretend.

your better things aren't mine but you are.

up past bedtime,


Sunday, May 09, 2010

may the 9th

i have a fantasy in which u r jealous of my relationship w/ ur mom b/c i have another fantasy in which ur mom is really cool & i have that fantasy b/c u said ur mom is really cool & i believe everything u say. if u have cool momz this post is about U!

Thursday, May 06, 2010


i actually had a really great time @ space camp even though my model rocket didn't take off and i cried about it.

u r not human

i no ur not b/c of ur overt charm & ur dead eyes & ur user-agent. nice try, robot menace attempt!

next time makeout w/ some1 cuter and perfecter than me & i'll believe ur 2nd r8 charade. human intrigue seduction ritualz r my 4té, bitch.

Friday, April 30, 2010

i'm in the mine shaft, about to bust through the stone wall to the tomb of the ancient kings.

p.s., kirk fogg, where are you?

p.p.s., i am going to listen to my cd player @ space camp

Tuesday, April 27, 2010


major themes of this reality:

  • transformation
  • subjectivity
  • professionalism

major themes of the next reality:

  • rhythm
  • booty
  • fuchsia

Monday, April 26, 2010


google maps has a new view with 3d keyhole sexiness right into teh browser. better still, google is using my washington sq. arch model from '07. you're welcome, humanity!

View Larger Map

Monday, April 19, 2010

i think i'm off

rey has collected over 25 Spring Eggs and their Spring Basket is now 'Burgeoning'!

first of all, farmville, punctuation goes inside the quote marks. and "their" is plural. rey has collected over 25 Spring Eggs and his or her Spring Basket is now 'Burgeoning!' and since facebook requires one to conform oneself to the gender binary you ought to know with which sexist pronoun to reference my friend rey. none the less, this datum TURNS ME ON!

according to my science, it is spring. that equinox when dyed hair begins to bloom. my hair says hello, by the way. the future approaches as ever, whispering to me through each inch of male patterned baldness. my new future holographic hairdo is a pony galloping on a rainbow with SPARKLES bee-tee-dubbs!

so i'm scared. tah da. scared of it. not the hair thing silly. it the real it. you know and i know and we both know. and i feel like i fell out of a pocket and got ran over by a cab. but rey's basket is burgeoning. but porn is great. but it's spring. but i've got you. and an ipad. and you.

Saturday, March 27, 2010


i've been on smartypants sam harris' youtube trail for years now. brainy good looks on an especially perspicuous speaker make my think-pussy ALL WET! i would rub myself on every inch of this man's face. i embed his public-radio-caliber baratone for your personal viewing pleasure

Saturday, March 20, 2010

bulimia is no joke

as usual, all the crazy shit is happening. thankfully, everyone is right where i left them in their crazy little places. shaking my booty helps A LITTLE. joy and everything else feels like a heart-attack. a booty-attack. god, this punctuation makes me want to throw up. HRRUUU,.,..-.-.,.AAGG fuckyoupunctuation bang bang bang bang. now shake that booty. be all things at all times. shakeshake. see the spaces betweeeeen. shakeshake. give generously to public radio. shakeshake. suck your boyfriend off every morning and every night. shakeshake. god, this music is SO GOOD. i'm already really excited. if i had more time i'd DRAW YOU A PICTURE or something. LIKE WRITE A NOTE OR SOMETHING. i'd explain this or that and myself and ya know. but my trusty booty and i have places to be!


Thursday, February 18, 2010

sweet things

i hope i am permitted a list of sweet things without it sounding too of music

  • every giant m&m cookie i ever ate almost every day of middle school even though i got sick of them after the first few months but kept getting them anyway because the fat lunchline checkout lady i always went to would say "i bet you want your cookie today!" and i didn't want to disappoint her.

  • margaret warner's brooches
    margaret warner on how it is done

  • boring words that have awesome meanings. like awesome - the sum of awe; or essentially - of the essence. think of the shit we could tell each other with better words. upright words above the squalor of quotidian synonymity. impossibly meaningful nouns, verbs, and hand gestures. the things i would tell you with those words. the things we would say...
how much blood constitutes a "wake-up call?"

Wednesday, February 03, 2010

nice weather for ducks

Much keening for J.D. smacks of rusty adolescence, awkwardly horny for existential perspective. Narcissistic fallacies bloom like acne on the opinion pages.

The "kids today" pop-psychological steriotypifying taughtoillogical bullshit is the same lazy substitute for Actual Thinking it always was, but somehow this sudden context has over-30s in a fogy tizzy: What would Holden think of The Twitter?! The Facebook? The Sexting? The Kids Today might, if they can finish a book, detect trace-element profundities, but real-McCoy Catchers went the way of every op-ed contributor's youth. Gag me with three phony cocks.

When the brilliant bite their own magic dust, the rest of us can ponder God's mercy in modest gifts. But when geniuses — this one in particular — leave the herd, we might just look around and wonder, "was it us?"

The goddamn truth is, we can't stay in Neurotic Neverland forever. Not even if we hide in New Hampshire for 50 years. But Holden Caulfield can. The rest of us will grow up. Grow old at least. But Holden is still waiting for school to start, wondering where ducks go in winter.

Tuesday, February 02, 2010


Monday, January 25, 2010


"when you've lost as many arguments as i have, you come to realize that being right, like youth, is just about timing."

the metaphor for my own mortality that ran over my phone has prompted some due reflection on what i do and do not care about. about what i do and do not care. sorry.

in-progress writings. i cared a lot about those. it is an article of faith that everything happens for me to make up a reason; maybe now i'll write better stuff that cabs won't run over.

my boyfriend. i possibly didn't mention this boyfriend. or defiantly. i'm not usually other boys' boyfriend. or ever. anyways, i care a lot about him. anyway. sorry.

other things within the themes of importance or impermanence or interest to the internet in general:

  • my face looks much better now that it finally has the piercing it was always missing
  • mexican pete is AALLLLMMMMOSST gone. we're coming up on, like, three months. which is, like, a fourth of a year. which is, like, nutter butter crazy. (mem. write a fair-well poem.)
  • there was a trashcan that was a little bit on fire and i called 911 about it and a firetruck showed up and the firemen put it out. i am no hero! only a concerned citizen.
when it's the future, i'm getting holographic flame hair that changes color with the performance of my stock portfolio. and i'm doing that before it's "the thing" to do with your holographic hair. one's holographic hair, i mean.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Things I Fucking Love, Vol. 13


Sunday, January 17, 2010

pity porn

am i just trying to impress you with my ran-over iphone? yes i am. is it working? you tell me.

Thursday, January 07, 2010


  • this time it's all about good posture
  • and meaning to miss
  • and repetition
  • this time it's not about last time
  • this time it's entirely about sexy underwear
  • and tweetable sex
  • and getting high for human kind
  • this time it's about the key change
  • and moralized dental hygiene
  • and repetition
  • this time it's still about still being young
  • and everything else it was about before
  • only better

Monday, January 04, 2010

the island of misfit pregnancies

"as a voting bloc, aborted fetuses are very consistent. My Kind Of People!"

it happens occasionally, as it must, that a blogpost is begun but never finished. perhaps max steele already posted THE EXACT SAME THING. maybe mommy just doesn't want it anymore. whatever the cause, these are Love's leftovers.

left a little too late, this holiday-themed fiction is what the law would consider "partially born." i might have saved her for a different christmas but supreme court nominee hearing references just don't keep. perhaps it will offer insight into my "process." "pro," from the latin, meaning "in favor of," and "cess," meaning "poop." here we go...

the synecdochetic holidays are here!

Synecdochetic Holiday Story

One very old night, two wise men and a wise Latino woman were prospecting for oil in a demilitarized zone. They had stopped for some bumps of frankincense when, all of a sudden, a faggot with wings chasséd out from behind a sand dune.

"Be amazed, for I am a Faggot of the Lord bearing tidings of Fabulous News! To you is born this day in the City of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord! The King of Kings. The Son of God, sent to bring Peace and Love to this demilitarized zone. Other people are gonna move here just to raise their kids in this demilitarized zone. It'll be paradise again! But only if you and all of your friends believes in him."

"This sounds like a pyramid scheme," observed the wise Latino woman.

"I gonna bitch-smite yo ass. Just kidding! Ha ha ha. It's about love. HE LOVES YOU! I just told you there's a messiah baby out there who loves you. Now here's what you're gonna do about it: travel to the City of David, guided by light of yonder star. There will you find the babe, swaddled in swaddling amongst humble barnyard animals. Make him presents of frankincense, myrrh, and any other Schedule I spices you're hiding in that camel's ass. Now go and spread the Fabulous News: the Savior is born!"

And as he came, the faggot left: skipping like a gay little faggot. The three wise people, having some experience with these sorts of situations, mounted their caravan for the twinkling pink star hung high in the North sky.

Movement Two

In a demilitarized zone not too far away, three child service workers were servicing children...
that's all i got. happy 2010 everybody!

Friday, January 01, 2010

Yesterday's Gone But Where Is Tomorrow?

the hotel room i was in this time last year feels like a metaphor now. meaning displacement. and soul-crushing unhappiness. and change. it's a kindof clumsy metaphor. so i suppose it suites my clumsy existence this time last year.

i owe 2009 to a lot of people. my sister gets credit for bringing me home (and a million other wonderful things). there is a polish couple in new zealand who helped me out before i left, and a haitian cab driver who helped me when i arrived. friends of mine were good to me (special mention to ben, adam, ross) and the new friends in my life are so important, whether i am brave enough to tell them or (more often) not. my mom and dad never loose faith, at least not to my face. to miguel i owe my job. and there are people i cannot thank by name or in person (the bravery issue again). they will just have to guess that i was secretly in love with them all along and suffered deeply behind my politeness. thanks to everyone for everything. i am a team effort and i hope my sponsors are proud.

i'm searching for a metaphor to describe my existence this new year's eve. i have a lot of interesting things to say but i need to think about them more. i'll try to tell you another time. when we're better people.