i blame you.
…
eat less, drink less, sleep more, save money, life insurance, synergy, health insurance, 401K, aerobics, kombucha,
no smoking, vitamin D, granola, recycle, nature, love, soft thoughts, dentists, zinc and newspapers.
you thought things might get better.
you were wrong.
trick
or
treat.
…







…
you need a job.
…
and what’s so great about your blog??
…
so its official
this blog sucks
and you suck for reading it
and i suck for cutting a pumpkin alone at night outside my RV
and we both suck for not cutting pumpkins together on a porch while drinking sea breezes
…
still i blame you
its just easier that way
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
i need a job
…
once upon a time there was a strawberry…
…
…and that strawberry burned red like no other strawberry before it…
…

…
…and everyone loved the strawberry for it was warm and tasted like gold and pizza and red vines…
…

…
…and sometimes the strawberry loved everyone back
and when it did the room would grow still and very quiet…
…

…
…and even though it was by no stretch perfect,
the strawberry was embraced unconditional…
…

…
…but alas…
something was amiss.
a disquiet energy force with wingspan and a silvertongue emerged from wood.
the strawberry grew overwhelmed.
and as a result,
people around the strawberry grew overwhelmed.
an ackwardness covered everything in shadow.
…

…
…and the strawberry pushed…
…
…
…and then the strawberry pulled…
…
…
…and then we all pushed back…
…
…
…and things spiralled and equilibriums were lost.
and soft thoughts and smiles spilled over the side of the boat.
and a blackhole formed and although no one could see it,
everyone knew it was there…
…
…
at the unbearable and tragic end
i asked the strawberry,
“??”
…
but the strawberry couldn’t look me in the eyes
…
and the strawberry didn’t answer
…
and i had no choice but to walk away
…
…
the last time i saw the strawberry,
it was blurry.
i only could make out its tears and neverevers and goodbyes…
…
…
even now i see the strawberry everywhere.
i can close my eyes and the strawberry is there automatically dangling in the rearview.
last night i had a dream the strawberry and i were playing shuffleboard.
and before that,
i swear i saw the strawberry at the farmer’s market.
but really,
i haven’t seen the strawberry since that night.
…
i know the real strawberry is out there somewhere and hopefully one day,
it’ll accept my offer of tea and sugar cookies.
lord knows,
all strawberries love sugar cookies.
…
…
even now,
people ask,”why?”
and i always respond the same…
…
“why not not.”
…
timing is everything, no??
ugh.
…
loose as a goose.
…
no matter what anyone says,
a seabreeze is not a chick drink.
…






…
that’s why they’re called ‘funny’ sunglasses.
go away.
…
my addiction to echinacea.
…
with a steamy cup of thermaflu in one hand
and a snotty kleenex in the other,
i have never been further from india than i am,
right.
this.
instant.
…









…
it’s better than nothing.
right?
…
what color is your mid-life crisis??
…
rock bottom smells like lighter fluid and sockless feet.
it drinks black void and spews death rattles from it’s opposable mouths.
it’s color scheme is octopus orange with swaths of old grey crackle napkins.
it’s shape is asymettrical octagonal and it is a passive-aggressive self-mutilator.
it’s face splinters like tree bark when it smiles and its hands are withered like dried fruit.
its innards are confused…
stomach has become liver.
lung has morphed with spleen.
heartbeats sound like crying babys.
it hasn’t enjoyed sex since the carter administaration
it hasn’t had a nibble of nutrition since it ate it’s own leg.
it used to carry a sledgehammer but it grew too heavy.
now it carries a keychain.
…
most will look at it and see the pain of the world.
most will whisper, stare and cringe in it’s presencene.
most will shudder and move closer to their loved ones when it passes by.
but not me.
not me.
…
it is mine.
and it will be mine until one of us dies.
i not not you not possible.
…




…
the interior had hepatitis.
…





…
this might be love.
…
…
stay tuned.
…
strawberry lemonade.
…
below is the cover of the new PDN.
the photo on the top left is by JONATHAN TORGOVNIK.
the photo on the bottom left is by BENJAMIN DRUMMOND.
the photo on the top right is by JAMES NATCHWEY (maybe you’ve heard of him).
and.
and.
and.
the photo on the bottom right is by…
can-o-peez.
yip.
…
…
…
some days are better than others.
…
sharkfin.
…
it’s just more fun here.
…


…
did you know,
venice beach is a tsunami zone??
…
merry.go.round.
…
just another average week in Kashmir.
four deaths.
two gang rapes.
countless rock fights.
three funerals.
one hundred cups of salty chai.
ten days of strikes.
one thousand shells of tear gas.
one million stones being thrown.
lots of angry kids.
lots of crying women.
lots of angry cops.
lots of crusty dry old kashmiri bagels.
lots of cheap hash.
lots of imported mangoes.
some things change.
some don’t.
…













…
some pray
…






…
some fight
…











…
some die
…





…
and then some more die
…









…
some clean up the mess
…



…
and then life goes on
…
…
i need a strawberry milkshake
…




















