How did you get in touch with the publisher?

Oh, hi Elena. How are you? What? Oh that sounds lovely. I am glad to hear that. Oh thanks, thanks, you too. Huh? The publisher? Mike Bushnell contacted me for YUM YUM I CAN’T WAIT TO DIE and Barry Graham found me sleeping in his closet and woke me up and told me he wrote down everything i said while i was sleeping and that he'd publish it. i named it I AM GOING TO CLONE MYSELF THEN KILL THE CLONE AND EAT IT.

How do you come up with the awesome shit you come up with?

I open a drawer in my apartment that is labeled “Awesome Shit” and take some stuff out. Sometimes I open the drawer that is labeled “Awesome Ass Shit” and take some stuff out of that drawer and then mix the “Awesome Shit” with the “Awesome Ass Shit”.

Did you get to design your chapbook?

I drew the picture of the man with the black head eating his own eye. The publisher added the American Flag adornment.

What do you think of the "small scene"?

It is smaller than a bigger scene.

Are you single?

I am alone. I am looking at my window and thinking about running towards it and tripping face first through it. I think if somebody hugged me right now the whole world would be solved.

How often do people ask you if you're insane?

Every time they find me in their house rubbing my ass on their carpet like a dog.

Exactly what would you call your writing style? Poetry? Prose? Prosetry?

As previously elaborated, I would sometimes call it “Awesome Ass Shit” and sometimes it is “Awesome Ass Shit” mixed with plain old “Awesome Shit” and when I am so inclined I add some “Ballin’ Ass, Motherfuckin’ Cop-Corpse Sodomizin', Poke Your Own Eye Out Shit”.

When is your book coming out?

I don’t know this. I will say, this winter, and by winter I mean sometime from this very second into eternity.

Is your real name Sam Pink? (I've heard a story, I'm trying to find out if it's true)

I guarantee you will never know anything about me that is true. Oh wait, huh? What’s that Elena? Oh, yeah, I like you too! You’re nice! Oh no, you’re the nicest! Me? Come on, no you’re the super bestest nicest person! Fine! We both are! Let’s arm wrestle! I love you!

Does taping a thumb to an infant's forehead make them a unicorn, even though
they're not a horse?

Taping a thumb to an infant’s forehead makes them a unicorn. Your statement suggests adding a severed thumb to a horse’s head would make a unicorn. A horse is a horse, and an infant with a severed thumb taped to their head is a unicorn.

Do you enjoy pizza? (I ask this because I work at a pizza shop and I think you should come in so I can give you free things. I hear you're from Northampton.)

I enjoy pizza. If I were from Northampton I would sit where you work, i would sit there all day and take free things and say thank you for every free thing and I would say hi to everyone who walked in and then, after you walked out from behind the counter and said, “I hate you, you are annoying and I hate you”, I would nod and walk away peacefully.

Where do you want to go with your writing?

Elena Horwath, I didn’t mean to hurt you. That thing with Jessica, baby it was nothing. I—I wasn’t myself. You have to understand, I want to be with you, Elena, eating free pizza and talking to you about the random things I remember like “where’s waldo” books, please believe me, we can do “where’s waldo” books sitting at a booth together and I will go “ahhh man” every time you beat me to finding waldo and soon I will grow to associate my own disturbances with the sight of waldo’s face and waldo will be lost, both to the reader and to me. Very much. Please.

(Note: The following question is in reference to asking Elena Horwath for her soul for use in my army in a previous email)

What army am I fighting for? What are we fighting for? Why just my soul?

Elena, you see—I have this job to fulfill. I was placed on earth to undo everything that god has done. The problem is, the almighty has left traces of work everywhere. And I mean everywhere. I need your soul to burn down the house of god and draw the blood of his trophies over the piss-scalded earth beneath my legs. And, filling my own blood with god’s bone marrow, I will pray no more and keep the souls of my army in the pores of my tongue as they widen from the deteriorating bile I vomit, drowning god’s baby doves, and i travel the earth alone.

I can tell that you are a nice person, Elena Horwath, and that your soul would be perfect. And the reason I only need your soul is because god will murder your human body when god sees me growing, god is very jealous of you Elena and darn it, it’s time we pull god’s holy name through our teeth and shred it.

Do you have to have a mustache to be a child molester?

You don’t have to have a spoon to eat cereal but it is much much easier.



hello. i finished a book. the book is a really long poem and a bunch of short plays, like the kind that you read on this blog where something strange happens and then you think "what the fuck, why do i read this blog?". here is an excerpt of the really long poem. if you want to read the whole book email me and i will email it to you. you don't have to email me if you don't want to read the book. like you don't have to email me and say "i don't want to read it, please don't send it to me." i would just not send it to you if you didn't email me. i think this will help us both avoid anger and confusion and inconvenience.


Sometimes I wake up and see a hair on my pillow and I think that maybe you came and lied down for a while and then left but usually it’s a stray armpit hair of mine.

Then I think about what you’d look like with a head full of armpit hairs.

I would like you so much more if all the hair on your head was like armpit hair.


There are little rocks in your urethra and I want to paint each one with a nontoxic marker and fill a cartridge with the colorful rocks and then shoot you in the chest and call it a constellation.


I am fucking your dick with my fingers.


Stay still while I bite a clump of hair out of your head and feel the pressure of it stuck in my teeth.


The ideal place at someone else's house is kneeling, with your face stuck between the cushions of a couch.


I am floating above a tree that is on fire and I am breathing in the smoke and I like who you are when you just wake up and the motion of my hand in your pants is the same as the motion of my hand in your mouth.


You are my favorite human being.

Let’s sleep together.

You can turn your back and pull my arms over you and I will inch closer until your hips and back line up with me and right before I fall asleep I will think “ok” and I will mean it.


I am going to fuck you through your underwear



hello. an old article i wrote, I WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH THAT ONE GIRL FROM CLARISSA EXPLAINS IT ALL, is up here. the website says they are college humor. i always thought that i topped off at fourth grade. this is an improvement. they will post another article called I CAN'T WAIT TO BREAK YOUR ARM sometime soon.

(sidenote: the editor wrote the caption in the picture of that one girl from clarissa explains it all. mine would've said, "hey, nice boobs that one girl from clarissa explains it all. those are cool.")




There is a man and a woman sitting in a living room. The man is on one couch and the woman is on a separate couch.

The man: [repeatedly pointing and clicking the remote] Fuck—why won’t this thing work?

The woman: [painting her toenails] What won’t work?

The man: [tapping the remote with his hand then pointing it at her again] The button that makes you explode into flames. It won’t work for some reason.


also, i have a piece up at yankee pot roast.




the chapbooks are officially on their way out. i have spoken to the mystic one.


my advice column is up at dogzplot. also, other peoples' advice is up too. there is advice from barry graham, brandi wells, lisa ladehoff, wagner israel cilio, drew kalbach and some others.

i have a video excerpt from my chapbook YUM YUM I CAN'T WAIT TO DIE up at HERE EXPLODES MY GIANT FACE. the super-hot daniel bailey edited it. i basically gave him a bunch of shit and he made a shit sculpture. look at all the videos on the website.

interview at orange alert.

brandon scott gorrell is getting his book published.

no colony motherfuckers. no colony.

i like this story by chris killen. chris killen is, if i may say so, "a badass motherfucking dude who writes badass motherfucking things like a goodass motherfucking dude who's badass as hell."

i like this poem by daniel bailey. if daniel bailey publishes a book, i will buy it, even if it were titled HOW I LEARNED TO STOP HATING THE LOVE OF THE LOVELY WORLD OF MYSELF AND MY LOVELY HEART.

i like this poem by jereme dean.

i like this by kendra grant malone.

buy this book by noah cicero.

i like this poem by blake butler.

wagner israel cilio III reviewed one of my songs.

i like this movie. it's called psycho cop. if i remember correctly, in the movie, psycho cop actually kills someone by tripping them.



i was interviewed at WHAT TO WEAR DURING AN ORANGE ALERT. i have liked that site for awhile and i am glad they interviewed me. here is an excerpt of the interview because it makes me laugh.

That [money] is all I want. I don't even really care about the chapbook or the book anymore. Honestly, I just beat an old man half to death and recorded what he said and that's the chapbook. Even though all the money goes to their press, I want money. I want a lot of it. I figure, money is awesome, so I should just get a lot of it, because then I have a lot of something that is awesome. If there wasn't money, I wouldn't write. Writing is stupid and pointless. Oh look at me, look at my fucking poems. Aren't I deep and interesting? Don't I have like, the deepest thoughts? I am so philosophical and fucking artistic. That's not me. I just want money.