I'm burned out on writing my manuscript synopsis. My mouth is on fire because I figured a late mail of sirloin soup laced with Sudden Death sauce would be a splendid idea. I didn't use much, either. Don't really need to. Enjoy the random thoughts.
The Volksfront, a white power organization, uses the black sun as its logo. I really like the mystical and symbolic power of the black sun. I wish it were used for some other purpose. Perhaps to sell seeds or organic cereal bars.
If you rob a bank in Eureka, California, it's a good idea to stay in your hotel room if you're getting flat-assed drunk. Being drunk in public leads to attention, which leads to cops, which leads to an arrest. Brilliant move, you dumb fuck.
If I ever meet Baby Bush, I'm going to offer him a pretzel. It just seems right.
You ever meet those people who think every day is a miracle? Imagine how fascinated they must be with holograms and digital 3-D movies. That shit must really blow their minds.
The latest Amazon commercial, which features the Destroyer album, utilizes music from The The. Henry Rollins once lived in an apartment that was rented by The The's lead singer. My friend the mirror just wrote to Rollins and he wrote back and brought up free speech -- a concept I get behind and know a bit about. These things are connected by nothing but the words I wrote, yet they all exist. The people who think every day is a miracle are pissing themselves by now.
People don't follow their instincts nearly enough. If they did, they wouldn't give a lot of hitch hikers a ride, they wouldn't get wasted with that guy they barely know, and they sure as hell wouldn't believe the girl when she says she's on the pill. Trust your instincts. They are there to keep you alive.
Not all babies are cute. Some are gruesome looking. There are some young kids who are weird looking, too. They have oddly adult heads and features. This should freak me out, but it just makes me think, "You must look exactly like one of your parents." And they always do. It's sad.
Jimmy Fallon is not funny. He will never be funny. He thinks he is funny. He is not, though. I could kick his ass easily, and that is funny. If I meet him, I will challenge him to a fight. When he declines, which he will, I will taunt him. "Then make me laugh. Come on, 'Comedian.' Make me chuckle. Do it or I'll put you on the ground and kick your teeth out. No pressure. Just make me laugh. Convince me you deserve that show you got. No pressure. Make me laugh." Guaranteed he'll be collecting his teeth before I even so much as crack a smile.
There are far too many bad fantasy books out there. I also wonder if older women masturbate to those cheap romances you find in grocery stores.
I've met plenty of people who think their means and time of death is somehow predetermined. Not a single one of them has ever really believed that, though. At least they didn't act like they did. If they did really believe it, they wouldn't stop at stop signs or look both ways before they crossed the street. They'd have to realize that it doesn't matter because if you're set to die, you're set to die. Nope, not a single one of them really believed it. It must make them feel better, though. Can't imagine why, however.
Okay. going to bed. Enjoy your night, young lovers. Tomorrow we draw blood.