Archive | June, 2012



New Year’s Eve.  I will have nobody to kiss me on New Year’s Eve.  I will have nobody to buy a present for on Valentine’s Day.  And really, I don’t give a shit about these things, but when the day actually approaches you become like the punk kid who was too hardcore to go to the prom but then gets a little pang of sadness when he sees all the other kids piling into a limo.



What would be nice is if dog shit returned to the Earth quickly.  You hear about how flies and bacteria are非常有效率at bringing nutrients from waste organic matter back to the soil in a grand circle of life, but dog shit, which is just a pre-digested protein bonanza that any self-respecting bacterium should be proud to call home– dog shit just sits there for weeks turning black and encrusted and slowly drying out.  So, come on, flies and bacteria.  Come the fuck on.  It’s like hearing someone bitch about unemployment while walking past 15 help wanted signs.




1938.  Small town on the outskirts of Houston, Texas.  A rough-hewn town.  Out in the cracked Texas plainsTumbleweeds, cactuses, possibly other succulents.  Scrub and chaparral.  Low slung bungalows with no indoor plumbing.  Instead a pineboard outhouse with a quarter moon shaped hole carved in the door like outhouses always have, that the locals refer to by some quaint vernacular such as “the jakes.”

The type of town that has a sign saying “N*gger, don’t let the sun set on you in (TOWN NAME),”  which implies weirdly that they would be welcome in the daytime.  N*gger, don’t let the sun set on you here– but by day, enjoy our fine restaurants and shopsMaybe it’s a courtesy.  Like, they have vampires that only prey on blacks.继续阅读



If I did all the work I was supposed to do, there would still be more work.  If I read all the things I was supposed to read– which would be a fucking superhuman feat, let me tell youReading twenty scripts and two full novels every week, if you had nothing else to do, would be pretty sustainable, but factor in that it’s the part of your job meant to be done in the off hours, nights and weekends, above and beyond the eleven hours per day that you are sitting on a desk concentrating on work related tasks– and then factor in that the vast majority of this shit just.  It would actually be a pleasure to  read twenty脚本和两个聪明,有趣novels per week — twenty scripts that were cool thrillers you couldn’t put down, or comedies that made you laugh; two novels that actually inspired you and taught you something new about the human condition.  Or even a giant mass of hackish works that were nonetheless suitable for moving up the chain in this crass market-driven Hollywood world.  But they送花儿给人s all suck, they are always not viable; it all turns out to have been for nothing.  Destroying your scant leisure hours with crap, it all turns out to have been for nothing.继续阅读



这小妞从不给我发短信萨拉美丽的女孩我们约会很棒Ended up at her house; we had a Grateful Dead singalong for like 4 hours我真的很开心我们来回发短信,然后我发了一条愚蠢的短信,结束了从未听过她的消息永不也许我应该打电话给她但不是您不能发送两个无回复的文本,然后给她打电话也许我应该首先打电话给她而不是发短信给她也许也许吧每一件小事也许这是我在某种程度上搞砸了而且我会和她发生性关系但我也不得不倾听并假装喜欢她可怕的可怕的迟钝音乐也许这与我所做的无关无论如何它都不会成功她工作了3个工作,其中两个工作是在晚上,并且不得不花费她的时间在电线上飞到黑色泻湖的生物的巨大傀儡口中,同时唱歌Every day I have to drive by a billboard of the goddamn Creature from the Black Lagoon and be reminded of her我现在无能为力我不能给她发短信我做的任何事情都会让自己贬低,让事情变得更糟这与艾琳发生的事情是一样的我很着迷唯一可能让我在整个世界中幸福的事情就是如果她要给我发短信或者如果我遇到了另一个同样热辣的小鸡,他没有那么多的吮吸。继续阅读



She started hemorrhaging.  They had to stop the手术.  They only got three of the five cancerous lymph nodes out.  The other two were too close to blood vessels, and she had been given blood thinner, and she had already bled all over the damn place apparently, and lost so much blood that she was in danger of dying.

So she’s out; she is alive; she is talking and mentally composed.  She is at her house laying around in bed all day eating soup and popsicles* and watching HBO GoThe three cancerous lymph nodes being gone is good; it isn’t some bullshit where the surgery was all for nothing.  Three fifths of the cancerous mass being gone, like some slave voting compromise.  The remaining two they will continue to try to shrink with radiation.  Which you should read in the tone of Marvin Gaye singing in “What’s Goin’ On.”

I fucking told her going in: don’t hemorrhage.  You’re gonna get on that operating table and you’re gonna want to hemorrhage all over the place, but don’t do it.  They need to keep your blood in your veins to finish the operation.  And of course, what’s the first fucking thing she does.  Stubborn.继续阅读