When I was little, I thought our house had a living room and a dying room. I thought "dining" was another way of saying dying.
I'd blow a panda if it asked me to in a small human voice
If no mong-babes can be planted and breached as a result of homo-incest, then its tabooity should be reevaluated, re-issued, re-packaged.
Stop trying to make ZZ Packer "happen"
An untitled track on my iTunes, 8 seconds long, at full volume you can barely hear a little girl's voice whisper, "mommy a black dog."
Santa Claus look-alike just whispered for me to "check the missed connections later" and then stepped off of the train
Floating 80 ft high, at 2 mph, face up, eyes closed, head first, down 9th ave, from 66th to 46th, at 7PM, with no one expecting me anywhere.
d'be nice to navigate the internet with double-blinks, short nose-breaths, light teeth-clicks, back of teeth (mousepad), tongue (mouse)
Considered incl. in my will some $$$ to pay someone to tweet something along the lines of "help me find me im scared" for me after my death.
lowercasing the G when you write out the word God makes me think of you in the opposite way of what I think you want me to think of you
I bet Burroughs told Ginsberg to shut up a lot.
metempshycosically put myself in the shoes of waiting jezebel commenter who commented asking why above commenter disliked the movie Magnolia
if I was the guy who recognized the repetitive patterns in Plato's cave, I'd have won $ off the others instead of turning around and leaving
Paid fifty dollars this morning to send a telegram to Italy to the family of a gardener whose mother died. Fifty dollars. Died.
a twitter where no two tweets are alike, no single tweet can ever be tweeted by anyone again, language would grow so strangely
Should have gotten an MFA in waiting for my dealer.
Blowing Rick Ross on mushrooms would be intense.
Dreamt I was a teenager in Spain and was busted spray-painting '[my name] loves [a Spanish girl's name]' on class chalkboard in black paint.
everyone likes to eat a little ass
I keep thinking the ghost behind me goes too far back with the ghost seated right across from me.
the string of words in Elliott Smith's mind that spanned the time between the first stab through his breast plate and the second stab
Tweeting at restaurants is cool because it looks like you're either praying or playing with your dick under the table.
An ashtray made out of the metal plate that Faulkner lied about having in his head.
"One more!" is a humorous thing to scream at a shitty opening band after they tell the crowd they have, "a couple more songs."
People sometimes say, "My God, your eyes," and no one notices. Not even the person who's saying it. They're at their war against us.
what if i was just some little mute dude looking confusedly around the room in the middle of china somewhere