Apparently Vampires are in style. Weird.  Apparently I like writing poems. Weirder.  Needs no introduction… Read more »

            It’s hard to write when the sun is shining.  It’s hard to write when you can throw on paper denims and a t-shirt, stumble down 14^th street, and rub yourself all over underage women.  There was a girl born in October 1989.  There was a penthouse in Chinatown.  An apartment roof deck in Adam’s Morgan.  A shittier roof deck on U Street.  A fat one and her best friend from a New Jersey “Jewish camp”.  A pair of English broads that were slightly too big for their britches.  Frequent tables and the caliber of hoes that frequent them.
            That was my summer… dozens of disgustingly drunk debaucheries.  Read more »

I apologize for my lack of material.  I’m working on something longer right now…  

I’m also preparing for an island hopping voyage through the Bahamas.  On Monday I’ll be crossing the gulf stream from Miami to Bimini in a small untested boat with a friend of mine.  Both of us are completely unfamiliar with this level of boating, so this should be interesting.

Hopefully I’ll have a chance to write some inspired prose about the ocean, the beach, the sand, and such, but most likely I’ll have my hands buried in 16 year old Bahama vagina instead (the islands are known for their snorkeling AND their statutory age).

I’ll be posting again by mid June, or, if the boat sinks, I’ll be suffering for my sins in Davy Jones locker.

Gideon and I sat side-by-side
Conversing about a bitch we had eyed:
I think she’s fat.
But why is that?  She’s just a little round.
I hate her face.
It’s no disgrace.  Her features are profound.
Complexion sucks.
Who gives a fuck?  They’re simply extra mounds. 
A big ass nose, some old ass clothes, her breath is world renowned!
Her nose is straight, shirt is ornate, great qualities abound!
“You,” Gideon said with a pang,
“See the whole world in black and bang.”

Read more »

          “You are clean… right?”            
          I’m repeatedly befuddled by women pestering with this manner of query AFTER we’ve already had unprotected sex.  If they’re really concerned, why wouldn’t they interrogate me prior to the act?  Even then, why gamble their venereal purity on a smooth talking scum bag who insists on rounds of tequila shots?  If someone was knowingly carrying a respectable assortment of STDs, and fucked you raw regardless, could you possibly expect an honest post fornication inquisition?  Read more »