Marvelous, this fantastic world, isn’t it?
Quentin, the upscale gangster banker, is not so awkward in person.
——Slip in to the backward way, then try to extricate again.
His limbs on one side —the left—were transparent as they began to reform.
Go ahead: do as you please & worry not.
——Such as it were, it ain’t what it was.
I walk back & forth to afford more Wild Turkey 101 each night.
——’Life is an STD & it’s 100 percent fatal’ (but herpes ain’t so bad).
Look, I know it could work. But there’s an upside, is all.
My wonderful Christ isn’t real, but he’s necessary.
——No, you arent the center of the universe.
Such as it might be, it isnt what it ought be.
——The bar isnt empty, but empties, dull, dim, not esp. inebriated.
The draft glasses drying under the counter catch the orange light so serenely in a pastoral way.
Raspberry pies are the most delicious. But I like pumpkin pie.
—Uh-oh. I suppose I should have seen it all along.
Love is a different irrationality than all else.
——We’ll all be dead soon.
Fucking nonsense, we’re all engaged in.
But on a coaster:
God knows that no one very much ever did anything important who stopped to ask if it was the right time to ought to.
We are all a product of our our (sic) stupid misconceptions of the human race as we understand it.
When I heard I might be undone as like a stink with a good douching, I’s knew the time to act was already. ‘When you design anything but especially this, you do it with wireframes first.’ I can’t come say hello; I have to give a penetrating hi & embrace to my whore. People don’t need anything real or meaningful, just a bunch of emotional bullshit.