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I buy violets for Amy. Not roses. Roses are for people who did something wrong.
This was not a blowjob; this was fellatio, my friends.
“You’re kidnapping me?” she asks. And if this is what she wants, then yes.
Me next
I thought I’d never listen to Elton John again because his music was playing when I killed Peach.
I am not unique; to be alive is to have a mug of urine out there.
But I can’t forgive myself for screwing up, like some girl “forgetting” a cardigan after a one-night stand.
All the little fame monsters on Instagram—look at me, I put jam on my toast!—and
drug-addled soda jerk named Benji Keyes.
He became a cop because of the simplicity of the uniform; you don’t have to think about what to wear every day.
“You can show me yours, but I don’t want to show you mine.”
She listens to me and she is a sponge.
I framed him for the murder so effectively that I don’t even exist in the Wikipedia page about the crime.
God, I love her brain, all pink and mushy and suspicious.
if this were a cartoon, I could stretch my rubber arm all the way across the beach, into that house, up those rickety stairs, into that bedroom, reclaim my mug of urine, and then, then I would have it all.
I don’t like this culture of reading a book and spitting out an immediate reaction.”
walking on sand is just no fun. Ever.
He looks at me like I’m crazy and it’s okay because I am.
I should be dragged into a field and shot for being so fucking stupid,
Making It in Hollywood is the most disgusting phrase in the English language.
I can’t wait to catch her and tell her what a deluded loser she is.
I did that and I can’t undo it. But I can find her. I can eliminate her.
She thinks life is better off the grid. Yeah. She’ll die thinking that.
He said that insurance money is the most beautiful kind of money there is in this world.
“You want some coffee milk?” he asks. Nope. “Sure!”
I don’t want to be like this someday, alone, frying eggs, eating local food in a stingy rage.
He burps. It’s wet. Flappy shards of eggs fly out of his mouth.
“Tip the world over on its side and everything loose will land in Los Angeles.”
“Los Angeles is the seat of evil, Joseph. It’s the womb of idiocy. It’s where everything bad comes from, the peak of the volcano of this nation’s stupidity. It’s no place for an intelligent man.
Out burgers. Don’t watch too many movies. Don’t eat too many vegetables. Don’t refer to vegetables as veggies.
Don’t go in the pool. It’s cold and dirty. Don’t go in the ocean. It’s cold and dirty.
Your skin is a waste of space because there’s no heart inside of you.
You suck a good dick. But you’re not special. You’re dead.
Boundaries: Where did they go?
We live in an era where people who don’t have 4,355 friends are considered nefarious, as if socially entrenched citizens aren’t also capable of murder.
The city is a grid, and like Amy’s bush that first time I saw it, the thing fucking sprawls.
that would be like whispering to the deer, psst, I’m here, right before shooting it.
It is my destiny to know people who abuse punctuation.
I wonder when the wondering will stop.
Conversations about Joe Rogan are not a part of my life so I don’t encourage him, the way you don’t laugh at a child who swears.
“Am I right or am I right?” he asks, as if he has a contract with himself to spew out his own catchphrase at least twice an hour.
My apartment smells like rotten oranges and chicken
I flop onto the futon and the cover is stained, Sriracha and semen.
She would get me off Amy. But I want revenge and Delilah wants her blender. She waves. She goes. The end.
LA, where you can’t get groceries without feeling like a #loser
“Seriously, bruh?” He nods. “Word.” “To the mother,” I confirm, surprised that there’s no irony at play.
Gen z joe makes me cringe
I miss being invisible. I think I might be getting fat too.
too. I feel that way a lot here, like I want to tear people’s clothes off their bodies in a nonsexual way, shave their heads, line them all up for Silkwood showers.
“Sup, Joe-Bro?” “Sup, Calvin.” Something is always up with Calvin
Tinder is the most important casting database in the world,”
I meet a girl named Gwen on Tinder and it’s like ordering Chinese food. In the pictures, Gwen is shiny and rested, glistening like pork-fried rice. Gwen shows up and she isn’t as shiny in person, same way the pork-fried rice is always greasier than you want it to be.
