i started a blog for drawings i've made. the blog is called MORON CULTURE. i think i posted some drawings more than once but i did that because my stomach started hurting when i was making the blog and then i couldn't stop imagining that my colon was filled with dishsoap. for some reason i imagined the dishsoap was blue.

it is MEAN WEEK at htmlgiant.

THE DRUNK SONNETS is official.

i read this, by bsg, and thought it was good in a way that reminded me of a blood-filled backpack. i read an early draft of the novella from which it was excerpted and it was good and now it seems to have gotten insanely better.

you can see the cover for noah cicero's next book here.

i heard the same man laughing outside my apartment, in random intervals, for maybe an hour yesterday.

i like everyone.

i have found that if you ask yourself, "what difference does it make" before you say something or before you worry about something, it helps a lot.

there's a faultline in illinois i think and i made it.

let's check in with david koresh.



I AM GOING TO CLONE MYSELF THEN KILL THE CLONE AND EAT IT is in print again. if you bought it, you will get it soon. or you can buy it now if you want, if you aren't too tired or grumpy or if you don't dislike me.

here is an example of some of the work inside it.

and here is an interview with the bestest boy in the whole world, daniel

gene morgan set up a page with downloadable pdf chapbooks, including mine, A MINIVAN FULL OF ANGRY HETEROSEXUALS WTH CROOKED TEETH AND EVEN MORE CROOKED WAYS OF GETTING REVENGE. (it's a chapbook of random lines from emails of mine)

should have two full length books and a chapbook out soon.

should stop grinding my teeth.

snuggle buddies!

here is a picture i drawed while grinding my teeth to the tune of stupid youth:



i interviewed daniel bailey for dogzplot.

you should buy his book THE DRUNK SONNETS, for soon it will be out.







UPDATE!!!: this week at wunderkammer writers are being paired together to write about each others' childhood photos.

i wrote about chris higgs
chris higgs wrote about me

check out chris higgs's bitch ass mullet and check out my sweet legs!



the reading last night was cool.

it made me happy to be in Chicago.

i heard at least one other person say the same thing.

I met Kathryn regina.

i have liked everything i have read by her.

i felt proud to read with her.

she was the most professional appearing of the readers.

it reminded me of being younger and like when your class would go to the library and the librarian would read a story and it would rock so hard.

I met zach, the featherproof chief.

he had a nice voice and was also nice in terms of behavior.

he was the emcee and he gave me a piece of paper to write down the way I wanted to be introduced.

all I did was write three book titles on a piece of a brown paper bag.

when zach introduced me he said, “all I have is a piece of paper with some titles written down on it.”

I felt a sense of failure inside myself at that moment.

I seemed to have not accomplished what I was asked to do.

I swallowed many thousands of tears.

however, he was able to read the titles ok, and I remember experiencing a sensation inside my body that sounded and felt like “whew.”

I think I actually looked around to see if anyone was about to congratulate me on writing legibly.

no one did.

when I read I didn’t use the mic because 1. I thought I would like to stand closer to the audience and 2. I was worried about it shrieking feedback and then me having nothing to say that would be appropriate except for “sorry” which would likely produce more feedback and then everyone would stare and point at me for doing such horrible things.

the first thing i read was the back of the vhs box for the movie “Lionheart”

then I read some other shit.

at one point I lifted my eyes off the paper and looked at the audience and actually said, “ok make eye contact.” like, i think people thought I was joking but in reality I was just stupid enough to narrate my own action out loud.

Amelia gray read a story she wrote based on a quote from blake butler’s dad.

Amelia also seemed professional, like she knew how to do other things while reading besides just stare at the paper and worry about saying all the words and saying them clearly.

Amelia didn’t read any words from the back of a vhs action film box, but I still think she did well.

blake read last.

he offered to dance instead of read, and he did for maybe seven seconds while people clapped.

then he read from scorch atlas.

everyone got real quiet.

for some reason I remember that he used the word “guffawed.”

when he was done reading a band set up.

I started dancing with blake in the back room, when we were waiting to use the bathroom.

then we went out in front of the band and danced.

other people started dancing.

I remember certain things.

I remember there being a circle that formed and I tried to do that Russian dance where you cross your arms and kick out your legs.

that kind of dancing hurted my ankles real bad and I guess I let the circle down.

I remember taking blake’s shoe off on the dancefloor and acting like I was talking into it like a phone.

he fell to the ground on his side and I remember taking one of his legs and acting like I was pumping it, like you know like one of his legs was the handle to a pump.

then blake jumped on my back and I jumped a few times while holding him.

I noticed zach on the dancefloor.

his moves were sublime.

blake took off zach's scarf and threw it up around the ceiling fan.

then people were jumping and touching the hanging scarf.

someone threw a copy of scorch atlas into the middle of the dancing.

it got all fucked up.

I remember being impressed with how I was moving my feet but maybe I am not remembering thigns right.

like I felt like I could legitimately dominate james brown in some type of foot dancing competition.

there was a smashed can on the floor that people were kicking and I remember looking at it and thinking, “try like, a surf move on it dude.”

then I saw myself with a terrible fracture in my leg somewhere, and the bones were coming out.

I remember almost puking because of how hard I was sweating and dancing and thinking about leg fractures.

after the dancing people went outside.

I met someone named landon.

my friend kari was there.

everyone was talking about how nice the NO COAST COLLECTIVE store was.

kari said she woud like to rent a place like it but then we both agreed nothing would happen except for like normal stuff, like just renting the place and eating cereal in it and watching tv.

it felt like the most un-fake reading I had been too.

I walked home and on the way I walked by a guy and I said, “wuz happ” as in, a failed attempt to say “what is happening” and he said, “what’s good mane.”

I looked at the copy of scorch atlas blake gave me.

it looks and feels like one of those “state-books” you can get at a gas station that basically explores the history of the state, except more macabre, design and content alike.

I am excited to read it again.

people are nice.

nice people are nice to find.

here are two other people’s accounts.

kathryn regina

richard thomas


"And he saw this man who had mocked him so much, and he saw him on fire, honestly charcoaled he said, his hands frozen up, everything gone"

new installment of dogzplot is up, featuring a drawing of mine as the artwork. other good shit there too.

read this piece at UNSAID. then read the rest.

please come to this reading. featuring blake butler, amelia gray, kathryn regina and myself.



hello. the magazine UNSAID published a piece from I AM GOING TO CLONE MYSELF THEN KILL THE CLONE AND EAT IT. the piece is called THING THAT DETAILS A TRIP TO THE SUPERMARKET. it is in the print issue and the web issue of UNSAID. read it here.
if you like it, buy the magazine and buy I AM GOING TO CLONE MYSELF THEN KILL THE CLONE AND EAT IT. i wrote a novella with the same tone and type of content as THING THAT DETAILS A TRIP TO THE SUPERMARKET. it is called BOOM SLEEP. i think, really, it might be too dumb for anyone to read. i feel productive right now. i just can't wait to pass out dead on your livingroom floor after breaking into your apartment. i just can't wait to renovate my give-up tactics. bye.

update: if anyone wants to publish a nonfiction piece about a time i used ketamine, email me.



fee fie fo fum. i'm reading next monday with blake butler, amelia gray and kathryn regina. come watch me clothesline blake and his harper perennial ass. also, i just found two copies of BE NICE TO EVERYONE, the play that is in the next book i wrote, as well as the cancerous new ML Press anthology. if you paypal me a bajillion dollars and the deed to your house i will mail them to you. actually i will probably just give them out at the reading. here's the flyer.