( ༎ຶ ༎ຶ )
……. continued ……….
As a kid, I thought food was sweet like skirts and socks, and ever since I was seventeenish, food has become something dirty, like math and religion, although I know once I’m old like you guys, I’ll only see food as the means and output of labor, as humorless coprophagia, something in the tone of Tarr on tranquilizers, but, it’s alright, when I’m dead, I’ll think of food as pretty body-particles, like dandruff and helium and bloody good oral sex.
If a joke takes you longer than a breath or two to get out—ITS NOT LONGER FUNNY!!!
Woman sitting next to me: “…and it’s the weirdest thing, I never smoked a day in my life, I actually abhorred the stuff—“ Me, smoking reds in the waiting room while playing with the bead maze table because I have nothing better to do on a Tuesday afternoon: “OH? OH YOU THINK YOURE BETTER THAN ME WITH YOUR RANDOM UNDESERVED LUNG CANCER? HUH? HUH? WELL, YOU ARE! YOU JUST ARE!”
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by something not particularly worth mentioning. It’ll happen to you too but not for the reason you think.
I’m ultimately unhappy with all the words we use to talk about anything important (but I like the word important and how I choose to use it). “Meaning” ….? KILL ME! And the way we bastardize it with grandiosity. With MEANING! Why does meaning have to have all that meaning, why can’t it just be meaning? The talk about the meaning of life is so chaotically wrong and untextured, because, like, I know and you know, you wouldn’t still be alive if you didn’t, also who cares even if you didn’t know, you ask bad questions, you’re despicably bad at asking questions, you!—you should be asking questions like what am I having for dinner tonight, and what am I having for dinner tomorrow night, and what am I doing out this late, I have to get home for dinner!
No, because not a lot of people know this, but the larger your cross necklace, the more devout your spirit and by this logic, the larger your cock, the more respect you hold for the ephemerality of life, and, you see, this is why I cannot continue going out with you, Dudley—I mean, really, Dudley, show a little respect, why don’t you, Dudley—
Anything that’s ever happened to me was an accident
Drinking publicly with my parents is funny, after I have one drink, my dad will act like a girl-friend who secretly hates me, Yeah, you were pretty drunk, you were, we could all tell, it’s probably fine or…. yeah, no, no, I guess it’s probably fine, probably not a big deal, could just definitely tell is all, and my mom acts like a girl-friend who’s secretly in love with me, Your magnetism! I couldn’t get enough of you—no, I’m serious, look at me—I’m serious. Are you a model? You should be a model. Are you an actress? Let’s make you an actress!—and both are necessary. both are necessary
If I’m eating donuts, I need to have six of them in rapid succession, that’s why they make them in orders of six after all, the perfect consumption number if you dare to think about it, but I can’t say that without being called a dumb capitalist or a bullimic pythagorean, I’m not either, I’m more like Liz Lemon, I’ve never seen the show, I’m both too young and too old to watch 30 Rock, but I somehow know she loved donuts, I really like Liz because she looks and acts like every woman every good man has ever ended up with, every guy I’ve dated has wildly preferred brunettes, this is not a complaint just an observation, if I really cared I’d just stop bleeding hundreds to bleach my skull, but I don’t, I don’t care, I really don’t, I’ve got six glazed blueberry that need a licking before I can even begin to worry about that kind of stuff
The Man Who Mistook His Wife For At All Interesting
Thank you for the dinner party! The food was forgivable! The banter, highly unnatural! Thank you for this dinner party! I finally know what death sounds like when no one’s looking! If only every day could be a dinner party! Would you pass me the peas—excuse me—I mean, the gun? No worries, I’ll make everyone a plate!
Sometimes it feels like I’m the kind of girl who gets whacked in the head with a frying pan in the first ten minutes of a movie so the director can establish his devil may care attitude towards domestic violence and when the audience doesn’t laugh he writes in his yellow legal pad Needs more BOING sound effects and perhaps make her hair do that funny thing! next to his doodle of a bosomy woman with a foot where her head should be
I’m hardly the first person to be unliked. I’m hard of hearing in twelve states and counting. I’m hard on those with nothing to give, and I’m hard just thinking about you now
If you liked this, you can pay me in a myriad of ways! Let’s go through them
Paying subscriber, my book (https://www.dreamboybook.club/shop/p/victim), Venmo (https://venmo.com/u/emmanewmanholden). You could also buy my book directly from me, especially if you want a signed copy, if you live in New York City. DM me and be normal, thank you, I love you, I love you, I love you, say it back, say it back, say it back,
i am being normal, thank you for writing this, i love you, say it back, i would love to see someone attempt the monk joke in one breath