i have a new piece up at fourpaperletters today. for some reason, only 285 of the 'accepted' 674 words appear. strange, but whatever man. read here.

here is a picture i took the other day on a mountaintop through a pair of blublockers:

here is a picture i took the other day in a bodega on 5th ave in brooklyn:

here is a picture i took the other day in the swamp in florida of a gator and my gatorade:




  2. here is the 'omitted' passage from the aforementioned story (the 'published' excerpt should follow the following excerpt):

    I champed taffy.
    I uprooted my fillings.
    I walked for one hundred and eighty miles.
    The path forked.
    I turned blue, prostrated, and stopped.
    I posited my belly in the center of a gravel lot.
    I deciphered the holes in my shoes with my tongue.
    A fox revealed itself from the wooded margin.
    It osculated.
    It blinked its yellow eyes.
    I lured it towards my bosom with balled taffy wrappers.
    It skittishly sniffed and scampered into the forest.
    I tracked its footprints through the snow.
    My head buzzed like a hound stoned on bitch pheromone.
    The tracks wove through slush and razored brush.
    The trail went cold in an evergreen glen.
    It encompassed a large igloo.
    The edifice rose high above the trees.
    I unsheathed my grappling hook, swung it around, and slung it onto the frosty rotunda.
    I aped up the precipice.
    My weighted body felt like an anvil.
    A deep burn flared inside my lungs.
    My thorax juddered.
    I steadied myself in fear of splaying my coccyx.
    I breached the igloo’s panicle and peered across the sky.
    The world was a whiteout.
    I Helen Kellered my way through the clouds.
    I found a doorway on the planar surface of the igloo.
    It was padlocked with a heavy chain.
    I tried the knob.
    It smelled of meat.
    I knocked and knocked, and no one answered.
    A flock of geese mocked me as they migrated overhead in the shape of a honking labia.
    The organ flapped.
    I watched it float away.
    I assured myself I could have hit it had I toted my paintball gun.
    I scaled down the igloo.
    I skulked and scrounged around.
    I located a giant snowplow along an overgrown railroad.
    I swept out the plow and slept inside it.
    It was a miserable night.
    I shivered like a strung-out teenager.
    I woke up in the morning thirsty for blood.
    My cock was bumpy with mosquito bites.
    I bound it to my thigh with duct tape and saran.
    My armpits were buttered with mysterious proteins.
    My brain ached like the belly of a pregnant woman slipping on ice.
    I fell on my stomach.
    My skin clammed.
    I puked my guts out.
    I followed the railroad through the woods.
    The tracks intersected a dirt road.
    Rain had made mud puddles in old tire tread.


  3. Nice piece and nice pictures, Adam. I wish the whole thing would have been published.

  4. i know!

    "honking labia"

    i mean, come on!