Shenandoah at 67,000 miles per hour

At night
the Hunter and the Bear
barreling through India ink,
neon lights twirling,
barely bleeding.

The bear,
the hunter: The hunted.

The next day
Thousands of deer
congregating in the campsite:
finicky snacks, sipping shit coffee, flushing toilets.

"Did ya git a good deal on that Gemini?"

On Thursday, I am scheduled to discuss my "writing process" with a bunch of high school students in a creative writing class.

Hello class. I have a blog. I am not going to tell you the location of this particular blog, but I will tell you that it is quite possibly the best blog ever created (by a white). Here's why:

1. This blog is FUCKING HILARIOUS.
2. This blog is frequented by pornography spammers from both Japan AND Russia.
3. This blog is on a steady decline, which would be a bad thing if I had not taken ownership of it in the third item of a post dated April 29, 2012.
4. This blog has dreams of its own to one day own a Papa Murphy's franchise.
5. Former NBA superstar Rik Smits is a personal friend of this blog.
6. Like Neil Young's "Time Fades Away," this blog will never be re-released, intensifying the pleasure of owning it.
7. This blog has been seen long-boarding on the streets of Sacramento with its hair bleached and spiked and reciting catch phrases "on-point" and "that's money."
8. Did I mention the fucking hilarity of this blog?

Caption Contest

These pictures need "hilarious" captions. Want to help?

The world is turning. I hope it don't turn away.

Enter this purgatorial state. The crowd of people, the wooden table (a relic of the 1950s), the fingers, a knuckle crack, a note, a note, a couple more, a lonely animal, a flyer for an Indian reservation. Plants, coasters, the blue haze remnant of a blinking eye lingering, the man alone at the microphone.

I think I'll get out of town.

Suddenly I remember land lines, these ancient ties to the past, a hard wire connection to another person.
Suddenly I remember land lines,  overwhelmed now by digital static. Three letters.

Upon watching a homemade video and then checking the web link for the festival at which the video's producer will be appearing.

Everything has a press photo, and it makes me ill.

A half-bored interest in food

 The fattest men weigh as much as bears. Lumbering towards their man-cave walls eventually removed by chainsaw, on a semi-network broadcast, fed to me, fed to them, a miracle will save you. (I am not sure the metaphors they use are as gracious, as powerful, as mine.)

The fattest men weigh as much as bears. Murderous, chaotic, hostile.

A State of hibernation, and self-discovery

I think you, you should not keep it.

You should destroy it.

Album Titles (and the bands who created them) I Am Making Up As I Type Them

Traction Socks--Open Heart Urgery
My Best Friends Wedding's Best Man Best Actor--Part Yert
Return of the Grow--Pawstricken
Drew Up--Lit
Men With Great Futures Create Wes--Jeep
Can You Bleieve This? -The Dead Squalk
Not for Nothing, Jesus--Nunn0))))))