yeah, i lick knives.


One day Me, Bret Easton Ellis and Kanye West will totally have a threesome. I swear.

I can’t believe I had the balls to go to Strand Bookstore but I’m so glad I did. That place scares me, always like a moshpit, those are some intense people that go there, pushing shopping carts, beating people over the head with books, I always have a panic attack but I found a USED copy of the new Easton Ellis book, Lunar Park, and could actually afford to buy it. Thank Christ. I’m broke. I got no babies to sell. Nothing. Ahaha. But what a beautiful man he is.

My parents are amazing. They are so broke, they can only afford 300 dollars a month for rent, but they have been donating water and food supplies for the New Orleans Disaster Relief Fund all week. I love them. If they can donate and help out, anyone can.

Here’s more from my manuscript, “Demonic.” I should have word on what my agent thinks of it next week. ***A change of character, this is from the viewpoint of Clyde, the frat guy who kidnapped the skater punk, Marhollow. ((Everyone have an awesome weekend. I’m gonna check out “Last Days” later, feast my eyes on that dirty juicesquirt, Michael Pitt. Yum.))

"Demonic"
****Clyde****
This was the life. It was almost nine on a Friday night, it was maybe seventy degrees, and almost everyone worth knowing in Baileys was headed to my place for what was gonna be the best throw down kegger yet. I hoped Natalie would be there. All I could think about was that fucking body of hers. I just wanted to make that shit bounce. We were driving back to Ballenking with all the snacks and shit we needed for the party. Me and Devon were up front cranking out some shit from this band called Bloodhound Gang. Devon loved them. Last time we were at this pool hall he wouldn’t shut up about them so I bought the CD. His head bobbed as he sung to every word on the damn thing.
“Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin'. Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Well I find it's quite a thrill When she grinds me against her will Yes a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin'
Well, faster than you can say, "shallow grave", this pretty little thing come up to me and starts kneadin' my balls like hard-boiled eggs in a tube sock,” Devon started laughing, “That’s the best fucking part of the song.” I nodded, grinning childishly.
“Fuck, we should go to a strip club tomorrow night,” I mentioned.
“Hell yeah,” Devon was all for it.
We pulled into my driveway and settled on the front porch with some cold coronas, hooked up the keg and waited for people to come. New cars lined up in front of my yard, my friends jumping out of them with nothing but a night of fun on their mind. Stereos blasting as some went by too fucking drunk to even notice they passed my house. They’d be back, doing a complete circle, laughing their asses off the entire time.
Devon’s car was the coolest of everyone’s. He knew it, too. He stepped out of his brand new Cadillac Escalade dressed to kill and bang pussy numb. He’d be the one to score the most at this kegger. Last time I think we tied, but that was before me and Natalie started going out. Damn, had it been that long since I let loose? I needed another beer. I wondered if she’d show up tonight. She hadn’t returned my calls. Maybe she met some jerk up north and didn’t want to tell me.
“Damn, don’t you think those Buick Rendezvous models are queer?” Devon remarked. I knew exactly what he was talking about, and yeah, I did. I nodded.
“You know your car’s the shit,” I said. We tapped long necks. I couldn’t help but look down the road, hoping to see Natalie on her way. I looked back at Devon. He was dressed so much better than anyone else. He was wearing a spanking new Hugo Boss navy blue polo shirt and khakis that matched the two tiny stripes around the sleeves perfectly. I always admired the way Devon could do that. Over his shoulder slung a Teflon coated Prada jacket. It was a nice touch.