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Slice of Life

27 Aug

The toilet clogged this morning. When the landlady fixed my shower she also put some giant volume of something– concrete maybe– in the tank. So water isn’t being used in each flush. She’s been obsessed with this for years. First she tried a Mountain Dew 2 liter filed with seltzer, which gassed out and floated uselessly. Then a couple attempts with some kind of surgical bag full of gel. Continue reading

Women Recently

25 Jun

seagul carl's jr cropped

My new collection The Pussy is out. Pay for The Pussy, own The Pussy, put The Pussy on a pedestal, etc.

Now I’m thinking about her while she’s not thinking about me. Has not ever thought about me. She’s thinking about video shoots that guys from bands invited her to, while I’m thinking about her. Cool interesting people are inviting her to swimming pools. I’m buying unnecessary trash bags at Target to get out of the house.

********** Continue reading

Fuck the Future, Burn Your Money

21 May

I need to fail. When good shit happens it hurts. I asked for a raise. Had to wait two months to know. The whole time thinking don’t freak out. God remove my obsession with money. God let me just show up and be of service. God remove outcome dependence. Let me be patient. But that’s not how it works. Continue reading


15 Mar

bud on wall

I was with a girl, this was maybe 2007. We went to the county shelter in Burbank to get a cat. A young male because my last cat was cool. The cat room there is a long row of tanks with plexiglass in front, air holes. 30 cats but no young guys until the very last cat in the very last row. Black and fluffy with a white star on his chest. Who’s this handsome fellow. He’s one of the bucket cats, the woman said. Two kittens found in a sealed paint bucket. The sister adopted already. This guy was aging out of “cute kitten,” maybe headed for the firing squad.

I put my finger on the glass and said: hey, bud. He put his paw on my finger. On the way out the clerk with the paperwork said do you know his name, and I said: Bud. Continue reading

Morning Diary: Hate O’Clock, Rise and Shine

12 Dec


Good morning. What do I not want to do today. Continue reading

Why Don’t You Write About James Deen

4 Dec
birch 3

image from wikipedia

Because who fucking cares. Woke up today and prayed: Lord make me a channel of thy peace. My dad’s in the ICU. Looks like he won’t make it. Lord let me seek to comfort rather than be comforted. Let me be a good son and brother. He’s been sick for 20 years. Used to have to put on a hazmat suit to see him. Pressurized room so germs don’t blow in. I think about this picture of him with me as a baby on his back. He’s taking me on a walk in the woods. Near my uncle’s place by the lake. White birches in summer. The man who showed me my first cloud. My first bird. I’m about to crack, but: he might make it. Hold it together until you know. Go to work, be of service at my job. Save money to get to the trees. At night I drive homeless guys to AA so they don’t die. James Deen is fucking trivial. Continue reading

Reader Mailbag: Do You Need a Muse?

8 Nov
image stolen from

image stolen from

I need two million dollars so I can fuckin retire. I can make a muse. I could fall in love with a fucking couch cushion. Find a way to think the couch cushion didn’t love me back. The couch cushion is fucking other guys. I’ll never find another couch cushion like her.

Any woman can be a muse. Just like any woman can be a fuck. Just project your self hatred and inadequacy on her. In my Ted Kazcynski dream cabin I could make an elk my muse. Why won’t this elk return my texts.

Every girl I half like is a muse. Because I drive her away with neediness. What I want is: cuddle on the couch. Have babies. Cook fuckin Betty Crocker pork chops. I want to love and care for someone. Women are appalled by this. So no matter where I start—we could be talking about someone who spends money to be near me—I’ll get hung up on her. Afraid she’ll never like me. Afraid I’ll never write again. What made her like me will go away. What will be left. Clark Kent, but ugly. Gray collar small dick office nebbish. My true self.