much love to the guy pushing a shopping cart full of bags down western ave. the other night when it was 10 below zero.

Moving in directions that if seen from above spell out ‘don’t help me’ in a secret language. 

suicide note:  'wish you were here.' 
two types of eye-contact:  none and fuck you
be yourself and you will be rejected.  friendships and companionship are mostly contracts. 
the amount of networking/social media use as a direct factor in how people perceive your popularity/worth.


tao lin's video for the young family song $$ made this list. 
urge to go to a supermarket and either mime the instruments for the music being played and/or dance to it with my eyes closed for like, hours or until they ask me to leave, and then keep doing it as the police carry me out. 
xoxox to the girl who does the wild/impassioned hula-hooping to a boombox at the jackson red line transfer. 

using all the bent-up knives on the ground around you to scratch your back
whenever i do a reading from now on i'm just going to go up there and act like i'm about to read then start yelling 'eh....ehh..ehh' in short burst while shaking and making a face then fall to the ground and start kicking and writhing and yelling. 
kamikaze pilot taking a deep breath then gritting his/her teeth before flying the plane straight down into a huge pile of shit. 
that calm and clear thought, 'back into the shit.' 
moment of random sadness where you try to cancel all the petty shit you feel by imagining a transparent version of yourself floating up into outerspace where there's already millions of other transparent people and everyone's smiling and laughing and you stop to help tie someone's shoe because why not. 
emotional moment in a talk show where the host kneels down by a crying guest and takes his/her hand and says, in a quiet tone, "[name of guest]....whatsa matta you, eh?"


the last line from an autobiography i write in the form of a biography

"And with that, he took the stage and delivered a vivacious (if not wildly embarrassing) version of 'Hit Em Up' at a karaoke bar, before dropping dead from having eaten--over the period of a few months--too many legos." 
whenever you're eating with someone, i recommend saying, 'what's that you're eating?' then when they go to show you, either slap it out of their hand or smush your hand down into it and say, 'fuckatta here with that shit.' 
urge to whip someone with my jumprope
whenever i see something in the news about like, an old person who lived alone and was found dead after the neighbors complained about the smell, i always think something like 'that's what i'm talking about'/'oh hell yeah' in terms of a solid future goal. 
sometimes when i'm drinking green juice i like to imagine it's monster-snot, whoa ewwww!!!
urge to go to the post office everyday and walk right up to a window and say, 'hey did that package arrive yet?' even though i'm not expecting a package and then when the employee says 'what package?/you have to wait in line' i just knock on the counter a little while clicking my teeth and say 'alright, i'll try again tomorrow' and walk out.


something i notice on the internet is 'totalizing'--like where people dismiss or 'close off' others after labeling them something, rather than understanding that each person is endlessly able to present new ideas/things with his/her mind. like people and their work is put up against an abstract 'whole' (for instance, a writer up against all of 'literature' or a person's culture up against all of culture) and then dismissed as being deficient in certain things, rather than being seen as a positive statement of something, a different angle.   
i started a twitter


violent 'gun movie' that's about people fighting for possession of a bag of chest-hair shavings but it's never explained why and they refer to the bag as 'the stuff.' 
performance art piece called 'whatsa matta you, eh?' where i say 'whatsa matta you, eh?' then throw a fully-cooked pizza into the air and shoot it with a shotgun
death as the result of attaching a nail to the handle end of a rake then stepping on the rake so it hits your forehead
death as all of your vital organs growing wings and flying out of your body. 
it's ok to like people who don't like the same things as you
always felt confused about why people got angry when tyson said he wanted to eat his opponent's children.  seems like i wouldn't want to watch a fighter who didn't feel that way. 
calming thought of a gigantic being quietly destroying the earth like a nervous person folding up the tinfoil wrapper from some candy. 
yelled at asshole at dunkin donuts after he yelled at an employee for having to wait ten minutes for his stupid fucking ice cream--because he was standing off to the side not making it known he wanted to order.  had urge to kidnap his daughter and raise her as my own. 


motherfuckers who say 'just like santa' when they see a dude pushing a shopping cart full of garbage bags
feel interested in becoming a metal scrapper
often notice i'm internally addressing myself as 'young man' as though the future me is talking to the present me. 
setting a bucket of water on top of a partially-open door so the person who finds you hanging gets water dumped on them.
that feeling of regret that goes along with knowing you'd make a much better mannequin than a person
been getting a feeling of adrenaline lately from imagining myself taking a sword through the heart for things--like imagining myself taking a sword through the heart to protect something else.
politeness/support/friendship as a means of self-preservation.   


recurring thought of getting my nose smashed to pulp and then snorting the pulp through my sinuses and spitting it out. 
the screensaver in my head is like, people being [something more extreme than 'annihilated'/'destroyed' etc.]

almost like 'smeared'--like every atom/cell of someone getting smeared into nothing. 


HURT OTHERS is available for 99cents on kindle for the next week. 
i like this poem by mallory whitten a lot
good interview with scott mcclanahan. a good call for people to 'bet on themselves' and see what happens. he talks about a reading we did together like 4 years ago where--i'm pretty sure--of the couple people there, one was the mother of someone else reading.  after the reading scott and i went next door to a german restaraunt where the doorman was 'Steroid German Larry Bird.'  then inside, this guy offered me a pull off his 'boot' which is a giant glass boot filled with like 10 beers and there was like a third of it left, and to be a dick, i drank the rest of it.  i remember feeling really good when i said bye to scott, like excited to write more.  i pissed on a dumpster underneath the traintracks and felt like there was so much more work to do. it's a good interview.   


puschart prize for finding places in public to hide and yell 'gehhh!' while making a face and holding up your curled up hands.
performance art piece where you only answer interview questions with 'what do YOU think, boss?'



found myself yesterday--in a moment of no urgency--think, 'at the yellow light of life, are you gonna punch it and speed through, or are you gonna stop and wait, boy.' 


jordan castro looks like keith 'one time' thurman

urge to hide in alleys in The Loop then creep out when someone walks by and say, 'the first great fire couldn't destroy our city, but legend holds the next one will...' then recede into the alley

it's comforting to know that no matter what you make, someone is going to not like it/hate it, so it's good to exclude anyone from your decisions about what you're going to make, and just make it, knowing that death and time will dissolve you anyway so who cares. 
haha young family band photos.  kelly is the singer and the photoshopper. 


death by bow and arrow firing squad
saw a news report scrolling across an l.e.d. sign downtown, about chicago police torturing people into confessing crimes.  then on the train saw an ad for a tv show called 'Chicago P.D.' where it showed a chicago cop and above him, the text: 'Don't **** with my city.' 
feel respect for people who say 'i dont know' or who need to ask a lot of questions to clarify something before they speak on it.   
parts of 'old town' chicago feel like The Loop if the parents were away for a weekend and left their backwards-white hat/bead necklace wearing son in charge.
the way a guy will brag(?) about being so hungover that he had to stay in bed all day and watch tv. 
i recommend stopping/lowering caffeine intake to help with anxiety/paranoia
felt like screaming and slamming my head into the wall while waiting for the train today, not because i was angry or stressed or anything, just because


i don't feel like my writing is  'nihilistic' or  'about boredom/mundane things'  or any of the other buzzwords people use. it's weird when people say shit like that. almost like they're treating the writing like a magic-eye puzzle where they can just figure out one word or idea to use. most reviews i read ('official' ones and ones people just post somewhere) don't even talk about anything specific in the book.  they just generalize.  
if anyone wants to buy this drawing, email me   sampinkisalive  AT gmail DOT com

i just found it under some clothes.  it's the back cover to a hardcover book.


long-ass short-story where the first 2 pages are about the main character getting ready for a date and then the last 30 pages are an elaborate fight scene the main character gets into on the way to the date, like where the main character fights off hundreds of people without getting hit at all, doing shit like jumpkicking off cars and ripping off heads. 
one short-term cure for depression is remembering you can watch a ricardo mayorga fight


incredibly violent 'buddy cop' movie starring danny devito and reginald vel johnson. 

would like to be called 'the grape pop of indie lit.'

or 'the lunchable of indie lit'



social media is still media.  it still progresses the same half-assed information and opinions and trends. 


when i worked at target, the bosses always said, "stay on brand."

that's how i know only assholes say that
anti-smoking campaign with the slogan "SMOKE OPPS, NOT CIGARETTES."


next month, i'll donate part of my royalties, and anything anyone paypals me (from now up until the end of january), to the christopher house, a place in chicago that helps provide school supplies and other help to low-income families.  i won't keep any of the money, and we can donate it anonymously, with a tribute name to prove the dollar amount.    paypal any donations to   sampinkisalive at  gmail dot com    any help spreading this would be appreciated.



things like depression and suicide and other 'bleak' things are not necessarily negative.  it's how those things are handled.  just like things like happiness and optimism are not necessarily positive.  especially in writing.  something that is 'negative' is still somebody communicating that to someone else, which is positive.  basing your positivity off of a perceived negativity in others, is by definition, negative, you sons of bitches. 
cooking show called 'Psycho-Cook' where it's just a normal cooking show except the cook/chef says shit like, 'ok we're going to go ahead and crush some garlic here, much like how one of these days i'm going to have to crush my skull to get the laughing out.' 

Open Your Eyes, You Sons of Bitches

a while ago i traded mandy zeller a book for some money and a pair of socks. mandy knit the socks herself.  i recommend trying to get socks off her.  mine have a pocket in them and are strong enough, seemingly, to like, nail to your ceiling and do pull-ups with. i also like how they look. (almost typed 'i look how they like!!!! haha weird). mandy's socks are really good in harsh winter conditions. objectively the best pair of socks i've ever owned, no maybe about it. 


in addition to WITCH PISS, lazy fascist press will also be putting out my young adult adventure tale, called "The Fansnabulous Dr. Skribblebumpkins and His Lavishly Ludicrous Outerspace Picnic." 


generally like people who are described as having 'a chip on his/her shoulder.'
going to start adding 'IF you know what i mean' to things i say/write that are already clear, so people think that no, maybe they don't know what i mean. 
shitting on the graves that are meant for you

shitting on the graves that are meant for you, which will grow new people who either shit on the graves meant for them, or fall in and be shitted on

what i want is to shoot myself while getting head, a chicago flag wrapped around my face.

the calmness of a casual hate for someone and everything they're about

the calmness of feeling indifferent towards someone else's casual hate towards you

the calmness of feeling like your insides are just steel-wool, mixing the shit you're holding in for the graves that are meant for you


Witch Piss, a novel, Lazy Fascist Press, February 2014


the lost art of ball-busting
going to start making up book titles for my bios in publications.

like, 'also by the author: T-Bone Deadly: Laser Cop, and Slow as Molasses: The History of How Molasses Came to North America, and Don't Touch Me, I'm an Android.'
book of short stories where each story ends with the main character saying, 'well whatever, because there's a bomb in my head and it's going to blow up' and then the bomb blows his/her head up. 


lost Holwin' Wolf song called "i got the 'don't feel normal unless i come three times a day' blues"


jereme dean was interviewed at htmlgiant.  


a poem called 'dog story'


stand-up comedian who comes out and says, "y'all ever not shave or really clean your face at all for months  and then shave, and the smell of your beard as you shave it off makes you almost puke?" 
that line in scott mc clanahan's 'crapalachia' about how only his uncle realizes the art of 'walker texas ranger.'  still thinking about that line.  i was alone for so long until i read that line. 


I'm giving it three stars for refreshing dialogue and a format that works in its favor. but I will not read anything else by him as many of these were just bad tastes in my mouth and I don't want to encounter that level of it again.
in that one song 'mob up' where twista says "if there's static, one of my niggas gon' get two niggas, two of my niggas gon' get fo' niggas, fo' of my niggas gon' get mo' niggas...."  i always think it'd be funny if after that he said, "wait, i dont have any friends, shit."

portrait of a butthole as a young butthole

here's a photo from a reading i did two months ago.

here's a photo for a magazine in norway i did like a year ago.

tv show called 'Are You Good or Bad?' where the contestant answers randomized trivial questions like 'do you like crackers?' or 'what is your favorite animal?' and then at the end of the show  people call in and vote whether the person is good or bad and at the very end the host says, '[contestant's name].....you are....[good or bad].'