Saturday, April 28, 2012

An Interview With Myself

Why did you post a short fiction story called Blood, Cum Shit, Piss earlier?

Thanks for asking. I really like that story. I was thinking of the housewives who find my blog by searching for "fifty shades of grey excerpt" and thought they would like to read Blood, Cum, Shit, Piss.

So, I've been reading your blog lately. Do you hate people who are more successful than you?

Oh, Definitely.

What do you write poetry about?

Mostly like, AOL instant messenger convos, texts, people making me mix tapes and jacking off on my face, stuff like that. But sometimes Everybody Loves Raymond and dog rapes.

Who reads Deathcapades?

It's a really eclectic mix. I think like, my friends from around the country, people who used to put their penis inside me, stalkfuckers, people searching for porn.

I heard you were "in a bad place" how many different kinds of prescription and non prescription drugs are you currently taking?


So, you're writing a novel. Is it any good?


Do you hate yourself?


Do you think you're going to kill yourself some time during the coming week?

Well, I've been doing this thing before I fall asleep where, I don't cry or anything, because I'm on too much medication, but I just say "GODJESUSFUCK" over and over again in my head like two to three hundred times followed by "kill me in my sleep" another two to three hundred times. I would like to say that I'm going to kill myself this week, but I told myself I would not attempt suicide again until I have a gun, and I really can't afford one at the moment.

Last question. What are you thinking about right now?

I'm thinking about how I introduced these people at Burning Man a few years ago, and how they got married yesterday, and how I'm now responsible for their future devastating emotional and financial ruin. I'm also thinking about how Mel Gibson was on The Tonight Show last night and I missed it, and how I hope I can find it on Youtube.


Blood, cum, shit, piss

And also vomit.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Things I Instinctively Feel But Have No Desire To Support Or Elaborate On

In other words, things I might post if I had a Twitter or something.

It's going to be cool to be REALLY ugly soon. Like--practically deformed.

Living in "relevant" cities might not be "relevant" anymore.

Your sexual preferences and emotional responses probably have more to do with your lust for internet fame than they do with your childhood.

In reality, you might have more in common with Jeffree "Cunt" Star than Bret Easton Ellis.

Aggressive stupidity/banality minus shame and self awareness might mean the same thing as courageous.

This is a feeling: <3, and it's not love.

Technology metaphors don't really make me laugh, or feel feelings.

Whether or not you like Nickelback  might not be that important to me.

Being a girl really isn't stopping me from peeing in most places that aren't toilets.


I wake up to lots of texts and emails everyday, AMIIMPORTANT?:  Selected Excerpts

"I want to work for aarp mag with you and wear dazzling pantsuits while sexually harassing senior employees"

"She wanted to hook up with me, but I told her I'm like the professional, you know? No women, no kids, except, in her case, just no kids. She invited me over to watch a movie and I said I only watch MMA and porn and I jack off to both. She asked me if I was being serious, and I really didn't know."

"I want to fuck Harry Russo, but I think that's kinda asking to get herpes."

"I hate the valley, BTW, I'm texting you from a weird google voice number because I'm in the mental institution, lol."

also screen grabs of black on white gangbangs.


Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Regarding Poetry

Either like--people have to stop referring to "garbage/shit" as poetry, or the definition of poetry needs to be changed to reflect the fact that it's synonymous with shit/garbage now.


"Read this sweet poem I wrote!"

"Pretty sure this is just an AOL instant messenger conversation..."

"Yeah, poetry is synonymous with shit and garbage now."

"Oh, I 'get it,' cool."

Monday, April 23, 2012

Mel Gibson

My friend and I used to play this game where we drove around this beach town we lived in and talked in Southern accents pretending to be brother and sister. We would pretend that the people in the front seat were our parents and say weird, sexually graphic things to each other. Anyway, one time, seemingly out of nowhere, he said, "If I die, you have to promise to kill yourself." Then, we both started laughing.

I guess, that's the kind of agreement I have with Mel Gibson in my mind. Like, he dies, I die. That sort of thing. It's hard for me to describe my feelings for him. All I can really say is that, he makes me feel good.  Some people relax by meditating, yoga or self hypnosis. I like to relax by putting on headphones and listening to Mel Gibson pant like an animal while screaming about getting blown and putting cunts in the rose garden.



Friday, April 20, 2012

Obligatory 420 Post

This will only work if you're really high. If you want to feel LITERALLY all of your feelings at once, go to google image search and type, "signs of mental retardation."

If feeling all your feelings at once is too intense but you like feeling gross and uncomfortable, watch the 4/20 airing of 20/20 detailing "polyamory" and the "erotic novel" Fifty Shades of Grey, where weird looking married ppl with kids grope each other and talk about spanking and stuff.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Seems Like....

I'd rather explore the world from like...the world or something.

Getting Over a Broken Heart

First of all, depending on your "situation" this might make you feel worse.

I started writing because I knew that I was really interesting, and that everything I did was novel. I knew that the way I lived my lyfe was super unique and no one else had experienced the things I had. For instance like, sometimes I have sex with other ppl, and sometimes/always, I feel "sad."

So, I get really "down" sometimes. I'll think to myself, I can't believe I cried to that dude about my childhood and then he chokefucked me and never called again. Or, I can't believe I "loved" that person and now we don't talk, but he regurgitates my texts and emails into "relevant" alt lit stories on the internet. Or, I can't believe my ex bf published a book even though he can't really read good and stuff (jk, J. You're a savant.) Or like, why do I only fuck autistic ppl? I start feeling like I suck and I should probably just "kill myself," or whatever.

Well anyway, then I go here and think, well, hey, things could be worse.  At least he didn't chokefuck me, write about me on the internet AND give me herpes. Guess everything is fine after all. Guess I'll get a fountain coke and get high or something.


Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Multiple Choice

Every time a "celebrity" dies I think....

A) I wish I was dead

B) Who gives a fuck

C) I thought they already died between 1 and 20 years ago

D) All of the above

This is Real

This happened on my birthday, and I like to think it's because "God" knew exactly what I wanted.




Monday, April 16, 2012

Writing Prompt

Okay, so I know I'm supposed to put up an interview but I have adhd and bipolar disorder and a substance abuse problem and a job, and I get distracted by other things REALLY easily. So first of all, I have some questions regarding dyslexia. This person on Yahoo answers "used to be" dyslexic. Did they mix up "hands on" and "on hands" because they are still dyslexic and in denial, or are they just some sort of "foreigner?"


Were one or both of these people being serious, or were they both being "ironic?" Are they both ttly radical ppl who "get it?"


Is this woman really a DYSLEXIA TEACHER?


 Okay, here is your writing prompt, tell the story of this photograph. Who took this photo? Are these ppl really dyslexic? Is this just a "stock photo?" If so, what did the man/woman taking the photo do or say to get these people to pose like this? Does the photographer feel disenfranchised/suicidal/wish they were Terry Richardson? Or do they take their job srsly? Did the person collecting photos to make animated gifs for the dyslexia website see this photo and immediately think, "Yes! this is it! found the perfect photo." Were they being "ironic?"

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Bill Cosby

Is Bill Cosby wearing this hoodie in honor of Trayvon? I'm genuinely not asking to be funny or offensive. I'm asking srsly because the only other reason I can think of is that he's just getting too old to care that he looks crazy and homeless as fuck. 


Saturday, April 14, 2012

Online Couples

Do you ever feel like when people tell you they met their significant other online you already knew that just by looking at them? I'm not trying to make some dumbass joke about the internet being full of ugly ppl or w/e. For one, I have no idea, and secondly, that is fucking boring. The reason I ask is, they just always look like there is no possible fucking way they would have been at the same place/social function IRL. Like the girl is an attractive/generic/vegan looking blonde, and the dude has a ponytail and a beard and looks like he is hella into LARPing. Or like...The guy looks the way "Hardcore" ppl looked in 2003 and the girl is a "saucy" Latina or something. Or one person is hot and foreign, and one a SUPER creepy older guy always wearing a suit. Whatever. Just asking...Arc Light interview coming soon as promised.


Friday, April 13, 2012

Pathological Narcissism

I don't think I'm going to write anymore for a while, or maybe ever. I feel like this will suffice for a long time. I feel like it's the last thing I really care about saying. I want to organize it in a competent way, but I'm not good at organization, it's easier to just vomit out large thought blocks.

I deleted my Facebook because, in the same day, someone posted a picture of themselves hunched awkwardly, face down on a floor with eels crawling out of their body with the caption: "eels raping my ass," and then someone tagged themselves at the OBGYN.

A lot of people are *kind of* smart. Smart enough to read a book instead of reading the Cliff's Notes. Smart enough to understand irony, and conceptual thinking, but not particularly concerned with academics or team sports, or things where they get any kind of "real world" validation for their existence. They might be kind of good at writing, or kind of good at drawing, but they probably spend most of their formative years feeling like a freak or a "fggt" or whatever, and if not that, then just completely and totally invisible.

The thing is, there's really no need for "real world" validation now, because there's the internet where you create a Facebook profile and have a shrine to yourself where you can post about taking a shit and people "like" it. It's created a whole subculture of people who are internet famous and think LITERALLY everything they do is worthy of being written about and consumed by other people. It's created a world where you don't have to be "good" at anything. You can just make a song on garage band and get a soundcloud account and someone will "blog" about you. Where every book, or piece of "relevant" writing is a musing about how difficult it is to be a person in your 20s who does things, or all the incredible things that happened in your inner monologue when you were stoned, or the deep emotional significance of someone making you a mix tape and then jacking off on your face. And yeah, you realize everyone's had their face jacked off on, but not like you. You have a unique and novel perspective on EVERYTHING and the world cannot go another day without hearing it.

People write stories and make music and films on their macbook, and then condense them down into something that can be "tweeted" about and then people screen grab their tweets and write about them on their "blog" in the hopes that one day they, too, can be "relevant" enough to have their tweets about sleeping, eating, shitting, and being cum on blogged about somewhere and everyone will love it.

People say they do things because they really care about "art." they just love art so much that they're willing to be an impoverished, loser, fuck up forever to keep making it, but no one loves anything except having strangers on the internet validate the fact that they're alive.

At some point in your life, you feel sad about being a misfit, and someone makes the mistake of telling you that no one likes you because you're "special." That no one liked Lou Reed, or Andy Warhol, or Franz Kafka, and that one day, all the high school football stars and trophy wives will be fat, and dumb, and irrelevant, and you'll be  doing something amazing. So you spend the rest of your life desperate for confirmation that they were right. They're really just setting you up for a life of abject misery where you wake up everyday and the first thing you do is go into some internet k hole in the hopes that someone posted on your timeline or wrote about you in a blog, or "liked" your relevant project page, or making new "art" so the whole circle jerk can continue. They're setting you up for a life where you're probably going to wind up getting fucked up everyday to drown out the voice in your head trying to remind you of how insignificant you actually are, and where you post pictures of eels eating out your asshole because overall, the entire experience was well worth the ten minutes of attention from people who don't give a fuck whether you live or die, except maybe in the sense that without you, there's more time and type space available for them.

I kind of want a different reason to wake up everyday or something.



Thursday, April 12, 2012

Hope You Enjoy These As Much As I Did

I look at Facebook the same way I look at my smoking addiction and drinking/drug problem. I should probably quit for good, but it's, you know, hard or something. The thing about Facebook is, it's hard to quit because my friends are constantly saying such hilarious, interesting things. I wanted to take a little bit of time today to share them with you all.









Mike Tyson


“[He] called me a ‘rapist’ and a ‘recluse.’ I’m not a recluse.”

"I'll fuck you 'till you love me, fggt"

"My main objective is to be professional but to kill him."

After biting Holyfield he said, "This is my career. I have children to raise. I have to retaliate. He butted me. Look at me. My kids will be scared of me."

"Anyone with a grain of sense would know that if I punched my wife I would rip her head off. It's all lies. I have never laid a finger on her."

"One morning I woke up and found my favorite pigeon, Julius, had died I was devastated and was gonna use his crate as my stickball bat to honor him. I left the crate on my stoop and went in to get something and I returned to see the sanitation man put the crate into the crusher. I rushed him and caught him flush on the temple with a titanic right hand he was out cold, convulsing on the floor like a infantile retard."

"There are nine million people who see me in the ring and hate my guts. Most of them are white. That's okay. Just spell my name right."

"When you see me smash somebody's skull, you enjoy it."

[To a female reporter] "It's no doubt I am going to win this fight and I feel confident about winning this fight. I normally don't do interviews with women unless I fornicate with them. So you shouldn't talk anymore... Unless you want to, you know."

"I'm not Mother Teresa. But I'm also not Charles Manson!"

"I'm on the Zoloft [an antidepressant] to keep from killing y'all."

"I can sell out Madison Square Garden masturbating."

On George Zimmerman "The fact that he hasn't been shot yet is a disgrace"

"I just want to conquer people and their souls."




Wednesday, April 11, 2012

This is Fucking Wonderful

I spend a lot of time talking about how everything is garbage and a joke because it is, but sometimes you'll magically come across something that is wonderful, and this is one of those things.

I promise if you read this, you will laugh.

This Is An Instagram Photo Someone Sent Me of Their Dick

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

In Like a Lion, Out Like a Lamb

Here's a link to Oz D's sweet Spring Mix, and guided meditation or....something.                                                                                                                                                  



I'm So....Scared.