MY OCTOPUS WAND KNOWS THE LOTTERY SCORE

SPAM IS ALWAYS IN SEASON

The idea to create as many paper mache penises as possible is strong in my mind.

I want to fill my apartment with them.

All colors, shapes and lengths.

I've also been thinking about shaving away the hair from my body.

Leave it piled on the bedroom carpet.

Then walk out the door.

No goodbyes.

Stare at the sun for hours while deciding something.

After I decide something walk west towards the Pacific.

Stow away on a freight boat.

Living in a giant metal rectangle for a long period of time seems comforting.

Hobos are always on vacation.

Why not me.

I need a vacation, too.

Really looking forward to accomplishing several things, like:

• drinking recycled urine
• eating small portions of meat from a can
• breathing the unclean air surrounding my body

Hopefully, I'll arrive somewhere like Africa.

Because a violent meeting with a lion sounds promising to me.

During the encounter I'll maintain eye contact.

And make that repetitive noise people do when they call their domesticated cat.

(The noise which sounds like the word piss without the i, on loop.)

While doing this I'll focus on the space of emptiness separating each short sound.

And completely forget everything prior to that moment.

It's okay if I shit myself in the end.

GOSSIP GIRL IS THE PONY BOY OF THE AMERICAN APPAREL GENERATION

When women go beyond objects I get really sad and depressed.

I like their asses, eyes, feet, hips, lips, tits, pussies.

The way they move, the softness of their skin, their varying shades of hair.

But as soon as a woman talks I realize how trite and vapid she is.

And I can never view her as an object again.

I mean, it's impossible to appreciate glorious hips when they're attached to a larger being that tweets, votes, watches television, has shallow opinions, thinks Sonny Moore is a genius and Jim Gaffigan is 'amazing' and fits one of five female based stereotypes.

The moral is I try to keep my distance so the beauty can remain.

WINE HIGH

While driving through Beverly Hills today I passed a Prius pulled over by a female cop. 

The driver was biting his fingernails, placing one in his mouth, nibbling, then exchanging it for the next in line, while nervously looking at the rear view mirror.

The officer was using the seat of her bicycle to write a ticket.

BALL GAGS AND FANNY PACKS

Things I've overheard which caused me to imagine a guillotine slamming down on my neck endlessly as if I were watching a video clip of my own execution on repeat.

• "Yeah, uh, do you have... uh, do you have any flowers that say, 'I like you,' you know, not 'I love you,' but, 'I like you'?  I just don't want to go there..."

•  "My name is Oz, that's spelled O-Z."

• "Can't believe the 'Great Gatsby' movie was that bad."

MCGRIDDLE LIFE CRISIS

One of my fans sent me this picture:

STEVEN SEGAL IS THE FAIRY GODMOTHER OF YOUR FATHER'S SECRET SISSY BOY FANTASY

It's around that time of year when I get extremely depressed.

The depression typically builds to a 3-day intense shitty feeling. 

I liken it to how a person would feel after watching a Michael Bay marathon.

Every thought is negative and/or suicidal.

I notice things, things I would normally ignore.

People with circles of friends, having barbeques in their backyard, talking excitedly to each other about bullshit.

Actually feeling excitement over nothing, just hanging out with people, being excited.

Excitement.

I don't even comprehend excitement.

I understand a dead giraffe floating in the pacific ocean more.

People with populated phone books.

What the fuck is that about. 

All that talking.

With other people.

I don't get it.

The more I talk with human beings the stronger I recognize I'm alone.

There are no mutual thoughts to share.

People who watch television shows.

Television shows.

Movies.

All kinds of horse shit.

Goals.

Accomplishments.

Celebrations.

Job promotions.

Family relations.

Pursuing sex partners.

Weddings.

Funerals.

Quiches.

A world of illusions I can't sympathize with.

Death is the only thing I understand and I don't understand it all.

But I'm trying to not be negative this year.

Which is something I try to do every year.

(lol)

Keep thinking about this quote from Anderson "The Spider" Silva:

"No one will hit you harder than life itself.  It doesn't matter how you hit back.  It's about how much you can take, and keep fighting... how much you can suffer and keep moving forward.  That's how you win."

Also keep thinking about a nude Roseanne Barr standing in a lit hallway holding an open pizza box with my disappointed face surrounded by cheesy crust where the pizza is supposed to be.

SMILING ADDENDUM TO A MEDIOCRE SUICIDE

This clip accurately conveys the first year of my relationship with Gena.