one tweet, rewriting itself an infinite amount of times. good night, little fellow.

new brain books 100 installment series: how can a human being possibly be friends with another human being?

post apocalyptic iron chef pound of flesh battle wherein the chefs must use themselves as the key ingredient; batali wins

oh come, come unto me, laid aside a love folded pleasantly, sweetly lull yourself to sleep, to dream a blushing fantasy.

fell asleep with a whiskey bottle, woke up with the saddest good-bye note, a length of rope, blackened eyes.

whether i would like to break your heart should be clearly ambiguous.

fiction fightz i, wherein a twelve year old jack kerouac finds an unlikely traveling companion--and lover--in a washed up vladimir nobokov

fiction fight ii, wherein james joyce and his mirror image talk eachother to death

remembering late uncle incorrectly, as he lugged around a whale of a mustache, so large you might question if he ever had a mouth.

it's a cellphone that looks like a pack of cigarettes (get used to it)

how about a gym full of every piece of home work out equipment (doubles as a museum)

twitter spinoff #341: twithair (what is your hair doing right now)

coming 2008 jackie chan's capote

They call me Mr. Never Stops to Talk, a long gone ghost.

this complete body tattoo is a $10,000 sex suit that i will never take off