breasts cock slide “i” “on her back”

Today one person found this blog by searching:

breasts cock slide “i” “on her back”

Yesterday two people got here by searching for:

legs around him he exploded inside her

Both of these are beautiful, dulcet and dangerous.

I wonder what sort of people these are. Are they lonely, and sad? Do they drink? Do they smoke the same cigarettes as me? I don’t know, but I hope they found something here that they liked.


Issue three in moss

Issue three of Gustaf is coming soon. It’s contributors include me, Jimmy Chen, Tal Lin, Noah Cicero, Ryan Manning, Chelsea Martin and many others.

There is a new issue of Kill Author. It is sweet. I wish that I was in it.

I am sick and at home. Despite this I have proofreading to do for Thirst for Fire. I sent out some new subs last night. One of them I just wrote and really like. The title is ‘your face has a fractal geometry’. I like that title.

Lucky Strike

I have a story (of sorts) called The Lucky Strike Conspiracy in the new issue of Story Garden.

I recommend Inglorious Basterds a LOT. It’s like a funny Spaghetti Western set in an alternate universe version of World War Two.


I wandered through real Texas dark, red clay under my feet and unable to see more than a few feet through the woods grasping a handful of my mother’s ashes in my fist as if I could somehow keep from losing her if I never let go. Eventually I collapsed by the side of the road and waited for the onrushing destruction that would come. Earlier that night my cousin Butch had looked at the bottle of Jim Beam that I was drinking directly from and said “there are no answers in there, I’ve looked”. I told him that I didn’t want answers. I didn’t believe in answers.

The neighbor dogs wanted me to believe that the were vicious. I didn’t fall for it. I dangled my feet in the lake while they watched with hungry eyes and tried to remember a day when I didn’t need to drink. Just back from the Rockies where we abandoned half of her to the mountains in a place called Horseshoe Park, we gave the rest of her to the east Texas clay.


risqué Crows and the like

Why the fuck am I fascinated with crows? Sure, they are the prettiest carrion bird, and there are more varieties of them than can be counted by a rational, sober person. Somehow Linnaeus mis-categorized them as song birds, but what the hell did he know, right?

Twizzlers can be used during sex.

I’m writing about crows – I envision a massive series of stories and poems about crows. I’m doing this because I am slightly stuck on the novel (I’m re-working several sections of the novel – they seem like short stories, so maybe I’ll try to get them published somewhere, then when the book is published it can have that cool note: portions of this book appeared, in different form, in X, Y, Z and sexy places as well).

A girl I know has risqué photos of herself on the web. I find that arousing.

I finally saw Watchmen. I liked it okay I “guess” but having read the graphic novel, the movie was a disappointment.

There are foxes near my house and they are not shy at all.

I’m Not There

I have reviewed I’m Not There for Target Audience Magazine (the issue is a bit late going on line, but looks great).

Jonny Kelly has a new blog worth checking out.

I wish I could attend THIS.

The first half of my interview with Riley Michael Parker is up at Magazine of the Dead.

Don’t give up on me

I have not abandoned this blog, I’m just too fucking busy to remember to post stuff. I swear, I will have something useful or interesting or at least annoying to post soon. There’s so much to say and so little time to say it. Until, this is the time when we dance…