The value of me is equal to 5097033198, but also 3051982. The first is my phone number, and the second is my birthday. I assign values to people. My fifth grade bus driver had a Cheeto factor of four.
If you would have asked me a year ago if I believed in aliens, I’d have laughed and said no. But that was before the abduction. I don’t laugh as much anymore, mainly due to severe rectal bleeding.
All this talk of lost love has made me hungry. I eat like a horse and stand tall and proud like a jockey.
I may not carry a detective’s badge, but I’m certainly the highest ranking member of Albatross Harbor’s neighborhood watch program. And like tilapia, I know something smells fishy when I taste it. In my neighborhood, nobody can take a shit in t...
I seduce women by making women feel like they are seducing me. And I allow them to pay for that privilege. And as we all know, you value what you pay for more than what you’re given for free.
Too bad Agatha was colorblind, because she had no idea how beautiful her eyes were. Agatha’s eyes were grey, blue, green, and brown, though never all at once and never more than two eyes at a time.
I am a bowling alley celebrity. Women throw themselves at me. Sometimes other women (larger women) throw other women (smaller women) at me.
Growing up, I used to practice Invisibility Technique Number Twelve, which I took from the Book of Orafoura. IT#12 simply states: Act like a tree and hope your opponent can’t see the trees for the forest.
Love means never having to say you’re sorry for a minor stab wound.
That night she looked like the most beautiful girl I’d seen outside a sticky nudie magazine. She had a glow about her, like a pink neon shop sign on the outskirts of Orafouraville that says “Rose is For Sale.” Prostitution or a grammatically in...
Or maybe nobody can fill that special place in her heart because I was nobody. And the only thing that fills a hole is a hole. And dirt.
I spend a lot of time trying to not be me. So much so that I have become who I’m not.
I can’t write anymore. My words are paper airplanes tenuously gliding towards the dust. The wonder of the Phoenicians, which throughout the latter part of this entry I have not fully comprehended, is getting vaguer still. Where did this feather in ...
I killed my clone. It’s not murder, it’s partial suicide. I want a stiff drink, but not alcohol. I want formaldehyde.
Have you ever wanted to learn Geometry, Calculus, Physics, German, and the mystical teachings of Orafoura? Well, now you can! Just not with this book. Well, except for the mystical bit. This book is guaranteed to cost you, or your money back. If ther...
Why would the US try to win a war? War is an assembly line of death that is highly profitable for politicians and weapons manufacturers. An ongoing war is a conveyer belt of cash. Once your war is won, the assembly line has stopped and the big money ...
Can Power speak the truth to love? These men certainly blurted it out. And what did we learn from them? That power is blind, and love at first sight is a fickle judge of those who grasp too desperately.
The sky was as blue as orange could get. I love sunsets at noon, and forks disguised as spoons.
Running has always been hard for me, as I have abnormally short legs and tiny feet. I am Bigfoot’s nemesis. And I’ll be the first to tell you I’ll be the last to tell you I want to go running.
Sometimes life is sad. You can cry in your booze, if you want. I think that’s called a Whiskey Sour.
Sadness and silence, two things I keep in jars in my basement that I label “Warning: Do not open.
