Skip to main content


A graphical interface, the narrative of Ms Brave and Ronco

This is the Splash Page: Located visual center on a white field is a black circle with a simple white thought balloon at its center.

In bold text (no caps) wrapped around the black circle: ms brave qu'est que c'est ms brave she knows this. The thought balloon's interior text reads (all-caps, distorted and bunched up tight, it's stacked 2 over 1): DAMN YOU RONCO
Pages 2 and 3: A spread with a long black line that runs across the bottom of both open white pages. The first page is empty with the exception of the line while the second page has a series of interlinked horizontally oriented black rectangles with rounded corners. They'll be stylized word balloons that should have varied line weight. Sitting on top of them is the following naked red text dripping from the bottom justification (all caps) CHAPLAIN /AMERICA /THE MIGHTY /MECHA /SCHISM (tall blue, no outline, all caps, well formed, vertical character ). The overall effect of the text should be a bloody red and…
Recent posts

Who's Zoo?

Let's turn in early, in the corner where our bed is made, there are Pickles and there is pie and maybe soon there'll be some more, Write it down and say it loud, O fishing fable eating names, breathing then and breathing more, Let's trumpet trumpet, Let's blow on it, Then bury me under the door, Then bury me a house for my money and sing me a song when it's gone, Then sing it once again, This time sing it for Mary and then sing it again for the world, Our bed's in the water and barely turning, Burning like flames in the basement, Burning like eggs full of ape shit- This Long Old Song We all call out to Sister Susan, to Henry and the troll of trolls, Abe "the sparkle king." We call out to them lounging on their rock, beside the spring, "This is not yet a question of radical memberships or normalized narratives. These are not like your flowers at all. We have to renegotiate the roles of these entities much more better then they have been. They won…

From a Simple Flyer Folded Thrice (an excerpt from, Fresh Diamonds)

The low picnic tables under the elm tree are also brown. They’re scuffed up and scratched with much lament. What grass is around there is brown too. But the dirt that's just mud and it's full of ash and sharp nasty glass. Only the older kids play out here. They kiss each other and then they go to school where they try to learn about the lines that separate each of the poorer states of our union from all of the other ones. So cool and so sad, that this very modern age of agony can know itself so well.
"Like any palmist being read the nightly news knows, the nightly news is the heavy news. So let's set this little whistle up and you can tell me where it hurts. After all the whole century smells like art. It's way up in our eyeballs now,” WSBill spits into a dry glass and snaps his towel like a pro.
"I’ll bet that Canada knows more better," The Captain smiles as WSBill fades below the bar. There's the Minutemen then the Zombies but there's always s…

failing upwards

Here's what my crane of the march thinks of it when there is shade enough for thinking. It thinks that, the bench of my boat stays wet while my ass sits steadfast in the sand twitching and indifferent to it's breakfast of salt and knob knees. Here is what I shall feel today, I shall feel like, young. I shall feel like, must. I shall feel like, short pants, an old clock and a sharp eyed rebuke from a small and box like stage. Today I shall feel like a Chiclet that's been rolled in snot, that's been deep fried and chewed up by a small table saw. I'm tired today and my chest hurts. It's cold in my room and my nose is runny. Everything smells terrible everywhere. My olfactory range is limited to astringent and sour things or florid musk's. It's like being surrounded by old milk and Chanel number hell. I'm back at work which means I'm unhappy and angry just walking through the side door. I feel like I'm going to grow old here because I've ba…

Impasse (default)

"Is there something I'm doing wrong," asks she? When the hammer is broken, we blame the nail. When the nail breaks then the picture won't hang. If the picture won't hang then a thousand words remain unsaid. If a thousand words are never shared then the story ends...


"Hello, angel popper and again hello. There's blanket enough for you if your horse has swept its business. Let's be real. Let's be kind and orderly through this swamp. I'm a beast, so let's be beasts and never stop"
Warm socks, everyone had warm socks and there was a tidy slide presentation about a small and nameless boat. No one had an IPhone but everyone was encouraged to laugh at the dancing bear whenever it came around in the song. If I recall, then after that there were puzzles and brain teasers handed out. There were animal crackers too!!! Oh, when I suggested that Shia Lebeouf should host his own episodic television show, much like the Twilight Zone, they asked to hear more. When I told them that as host he would actually be a mime, a mime host that would introduce each episode from inside an invisible box. When I told them that, it blew their minds, poof. Just blown away, I didn't even have to explain that the show was going to be a whole hal…

Your Fantastic Sex, it is Genderliscous!!!

Oh Alice, sweet Alice, down the well and in the low field across from the helper-bees. We'll face our frontier with a buzz. We'll cast our piddling stones in the wind and wait. Dream, Dream, Dream, "Cordial and regrettable things, stand solid, unflappable and gummed inside this wonky tide of glue." She's ankle deep in tired feet herself. Climbing from her hole, she's laid her potty mouth in the river by the road.

"Please, the victims aren't even gone yet, Gert! They hover around our ears. Sometimes they'll leave to go away but for now, they've stopped to listen to us groan. They're watching us when we slide under the nest of clouds and the silver weight that they bear. They're quiet below the simple round moon and they're quiet for us now too."

"Those are craven and nasty things. They're easily locked inside of my box or chucked under the bed. What, why me worry at all, is all that I have to say that."