The Girl Who Would Rather Not Run Over Pedestrians (Fragments From Books That Don’t Exist #127)


First they came for the recyclables. We didn’t have any recyclables, and anyway we were beginning to doubt that whole idea. You know, China, all the sand on the planet, microplastics in the deep deep sea, and so on. Then they came for the trash. We had a lot of that, so we were glad they came. Some of the trash, I admit, contained potential recyclables. What’s the difference, anyway? They said they’d come again for the compostables but by then we were all like, fuck it, how should I know? We had enough decisions to make. Free shipping or two-day for a nominal cost? Just go with the recommended brand or do a little more looking around? Take the car or ride the bus? Ride the bus? Are you kidding me? What am I, twelve? I’m sure the recommended brand is just fine and free is free. The only thing I’m sure of is that everything comes in a cardboard box, with another cardboard box inside, where the recommended thing is wrapped in plastic, hell it’s made of plastic too. Makes you want to run right into traffic.

Tweet Liker: A True Story of Mystery and Intrigue (Fragments From Books That Don’t Exist #126)


After colliding with the rainbow, Jakester was seriously injured. They rushed him to the emergency room at the nearest hospital, but the hospital had been shut down by the governor due to a simple misunderstanding. The next nearest hospital was a day’s trek away across the unwelcoming tundra. They put Jakester in a barrel of dry ice and sent him off rolling down the dunes. The only one who stuck around was Rodrigo, who took a smoke break and watched the barrel ease to a halt after a while. Rodrigo was not cut out for this line of work. He was barely twelve and could only chug a half a beer before throwing up. Jakester, on the other hand, was the kind who collided with rainbows. If he could do that then anything is possible, Rodrigo thought. He shrugged, tossed the joint and took off running. Someone else was going to have to finish the job.

The Nude Eel (Fragments From Books That Don’t Exist #125)


For some time I waited by the water fountain outside the family restroom at the gym. I thought maybe if I stood there long enough I would suddenly become inspired to go in and work out. I hate working out. I also hate water fountains. I hate the fact that with a water fountain you both always and never know what you’re getting. It’s going to be water but is it going to work at all? Is it going to work too well? Are your pants going to be ruined or what illness might you catch from merely coming in contact with the cold grey thing. I was stalling. I can often avoid doing the things I don’t want to do by mentally listing all the things I hate. I can go on for hours if not days. I hate it when I do that, but then I also love it because procrastination is my god and my art. I once waited eighteen whole years, hating every minute of it, until I became a legal adult.

Mama Dont Tex Dis Fone (Fragments From Books That Don’t Exist #124)

I used to think the flowers were pretty. Now I just think they’re showing off their ass to bugs. I don’t know anyone who likes bugs. No, I take that back, I do know someone who likes bugs. But that doesn’t matter. Because all the bugs are going away. I heard that someone played a flute once and the bugs went away or maybe it was snakes or rats. Anyway, I don’t like flutes. I think they’re for cows. I know what I’m talking about. I knew a cow once. Another thing I learned is that people who think the Earth is flat think that Antarctica surrounds the whole thing and somehow keeps you from falling off the edges. It makes sense when you think about it. I mean, it makes sense that people who believe in stupid things have stupid things they believe in.

101 Ways to Copy & Paste (Fragments From Books That Don’t Exist #123)


When your best friend is a raisin there might be cause for some concern. Angelina of course never told anyone that her best friend was a raisin. She wasn’t dumb. Ray-ray, as she called him, lived a comfortable life in a matchbox in her dresser, cosily tucked away beneath a tangle of various loose socks. Angelina liked to mix and match. She had other friends. Some of them were even people. She didn’t much trust them, though. She had found out the hard way that secrets can be used against you, even silly, harmless ones. Middle school was hard enough. There was no way she was going to let anybody harm her Ray-ray, and she would never betray his secrets either. Only she knew his deepest, dark desires and she was determined to protect him, no matter what.

My Brother’s Whore (Fragments From Books That Don’t Exist #122)


Poetry in Translation

Oft at noon in idleness
I lie beneath thy shady trees,
And list the sighing of the breeze,
The splashing of the waterfall.

And hear the lowing of the kine
While browsing on some far-off slope,
The wood dove cooing while I mope
And sink to gentle slumbering.

It’s cold and windy and the stupid cows and birds keep making noise and I’m just trying to take a nap ok. That’s right I said it. Stupid cows.