Didi Menendez interviewed me about LAMINATION COLONY for MEN OF THE WEB.
I just lost a big hand at poker so I am probably going to be negative in this post.
Really I feel too dumb today to be negative. I don't know what's going on with anything. I feel like my cousin who developed blindness in the form of tunnel vision, wherein she would lose a little bit around the edges every so often until she could no longer see.
I don't know, my hope seems whipped to bits like some old horse.
I had an idea I was going to talk about where I was going to suggest something I felt could help small publishing: where each year, each literary journal that is quarterly or more replaces one of their issues with a book length ms instead of that issue. This would focus the energy of that press into that one book, giving it a lot of hype and attention for each, 'this is 8dy7fa08suf0ua08a0ew[r80a97ew40t8a7er8tuyao8gfoahdsfgohadsfghasfdhga oaihdfo hasd aohdfj asjkdfh asj hdfjhasodhfoashdfashdfhjasdhfasdhfahsdfhasdhfasdfl;jasldjkflaskdjfljasdlfja;slkdjf;las ahjdl fasldjk fajkdf ja
I don't care
I think if I ate some human flesh it would make me feel fine, i really would do that, i don't know when it could ever happen, one of my friends let his friends eat part of his arm once, he cooked it up real good, no shit
I like
read some
Bill Faulkner
i reread the damn AS I LAY DYING thang
it was good
i just lost another big fucking poker hand, it is orchestrated for me to want to cut my face off today, i say that a lot, 'cut face off' 'cut dick off' shut up
the last scene in AS I LAY DYING was partially stupid, that's ok, most of it was excellent, bill claimed he wrote it in 6 weeks and didnt change anything, i like that, ok good
if I had a pussy bill faulkner would eat it through the pages
i am going insert that in my novel, the novella is a novel now, it is getting longer/////////////////////// i am about to have two novels from this year on my hard drive, though these are ones i like, unlike the X # of novels on hard drive from other years where i was still too dumb, i am probably still too dumb, but ////////////// in this new novel i am going to insert a passage where the narrator eats the pussy out of the reader, if I knew a book would eat my pussy i would definitely buy it nahwahimsayin
Someone should write a book that keeps asking Do you know what I'm saying over and over again like the way rappers n shit do, if you can work rappers into your books along with getting your pussy eat, more people will do it, i am 100% sure
Tupac is in WHERE AM I WHERE HAVE I BEEN WHERE ARE YOU
oh boy, NOVELZ!))!)
gosh, this post, i know, i'm sorry
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21 comments:
That interview's great. And thanks for the way-too-flattering shout out. I could replace a few things in there (SCORCH ATLAS and short fiction manuscript) and my comments would be identical.
i like that interview a lot. you are a visionary.
i hope someone publishes keith's ms soon.
Your book-length ms issue idea is pretty great. Sales and bookstore carries would probably put the rest of the year to shame, and give somebody's shortish novel a chance for paper.
get em keith
thank you josh me2
tim, yes, i think this would be a huge idea if someone could convince journals, i need to write it out better when i am not in the mood to be a dickbag
this post makes me want to watch hostel 2 with the volume all the way down and listen to biggie smalls with giant headphones.
dogz, thank you, victory
good interview
you are the second person to say that you would like to sample human flesh
i think i am being swayed to try it
i don't know
my issue is that the person had to be slaughtered right?
like an animal
tupac was a poet
i like his lyrics
my favorite is:
"so what if i die young, all i ever got was mean mugs and cold stares"
preach it borther, preach it
god damn white man
always bringing
me
down
in the instance of my friend who served his flesh, the person did not have to be slaughtered. there is extra flesh on bodies. it would probably be expensive or yes, against the will.
tupac is alive
true story: when i almost died at 14 in 9th grade, waking in the hospital with my mom there by my side, after guzzling white tavern vodka in the woods at a high school football game (and contrary to popular high school belief, i didn't have my stomach pumped; i almost died of hypothermia), i woke to tupac's death on the tv beyond me. he had just passed away.
i think i told you about this before, blake. maybe not. either way, it was really fucking weird.
i still think he might be alive too. who else has put out so many posthumous records?
i tried so often to write a poem about that. i still have blackout flashes of the folks who carried me out (classmates, semi-friends then, but not now, though i do thank them, more than they know), along with the surrealist in-the-woods guzzling session.
that would be a hell of a poem. get it.
the reasoning behind tupac's faking his death.. all his records titles switched out of contract and to his mother, plus yeah that he's released more now after the fact that he even did before i think,
dude is maxin on an island he owns somewhere making videos he watches alone in his big scarface bathtub
i don't know
i can't believe he is still alive
i mean the guy wrote nonstop
for years in prison
any writer, i think, can relate to when they are inspired and write non stop
he was ephemeral
it is okay to admit that
but i like your romantic
vision of his last
nights
blake, if you ever get some human flesh to eat, invite me over
something is going to happen
blake,
well i hope you know how to cook human flesh
because unless it can be microwaved
or bought from a drive-through
you are screwed
as gena has no idea how to cook
she is modern
fuck you jereme
i can make waffles
who could ever need more than waffles
modern
jereme d-e-a-n
gena,
last time i checked
human flesh does not come
in waffle form
perhaps a mcribwhich?
blake,
so modern it hurts
In high school I had a substitute teacher who said he was close friends with tupac's mother or aunt or someone. Then he screamed at us about how tupac was dead and we were priviledged kids who didn't know anything about suffering.
i want private classes from that'n
substitute teachers are like
helicopters with ejection seats
fake boobs on a fat girl
or
a victoria secrets catalog clutched in the hand of sister mary
not much use
at fucking all
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