u did beautifully theo by Theo Thimo



                ‘u did beautifully theo’ is the heartwarming tale of crudely drawn figures finding true love. These figures are close approximations to real humans. Whatever their purpose they try to simply a great complicated sad thing. Relationships are about finding meaning in the mundane. Connecting with others is perhaps the hardest thing anybody does in their day. Shut-ins have it easy. But those ‘normals’ the ones who go outside every day and greet the snot out of the day, those are the masters of the universe. Theo doesn’t focus on masters. He focuses on those who are trying and somewhat failing. Close-ups of the faces confirm that it isn’t easy for them to speak to each other. If anything it is almost impossible to convey this sense of wonder about the world. 





                Saying ‘hello’ or ‘hi’ is downright difficult. The first introduction is near impossible. Even those who know each other have problems. Oftentimes the random meetings of people can create strange new friend networks. Loneliness requires at least a handful of friend networks. Without these network people would crumble, like some sort of ‘crumble cake’. Coffee would be served. Already some of these pictures indicate some kind of coffee stain, obscuring the main image. Seeing the illustrated version of the story makes it better. 





                ‘Nice seeing you again’ is shown with an AOL Instant Messenger Icon. Few might remember this, but many generations ago, in the golden days of yore, the internet had only AOL Instant Messenger. Everybody is big into G-chat now but AOL Instant Messenger was the training wheels of instant messaging. Many romantic partners were made thanks to instant messaging. Here Theo suggests that they only see each other online. There’s nothing to show they ever meet in person. 





                Little animations try to bring the titular characters together. Ages need to be known. Theo messes with the animations. Despite their moving together they reset at the same place. It looks like a bad relationship where moving closer together only results in moving apart later on, after everything has been said. The conversation is kept up out of a need for friendship. Eccentric interests are brought up. Seahorses bring a tremendous amount of affection. Scientists refer to seahorses as ‘the stallions of the sea’ for a reason. Without the affection from another seahorse, a seahorse will grow lonely shut itself inside of its house, refusing to go outside. 





                Theo Thimo is the children’s writer of Alt Lit. An e-book complete with warped illustrations is what Alt Lit needs to reach the next level, of Alt Lit children. Young adults, tweenagers, teenagers and more have an important role in Alt Lit. Thanks to the tireless-ass efforts of Theo Thimo, now children can reach the golden Alt Lit gates.

u did beautifully theo by Theo Thimo

                ‘u did beautifully theo’ is the heartwarming tale of crudely drawn figures finding true love. These figures are close approximations to real humans. Whatever their purpose they try to simply a great complicated sad thing. Relationships are about finding meaning in the mundane. Connecting with others is perhaps the hardest thing anybody does in their day. Shut-ins have it easy. But those ‘normals’ the ones who go outside every day and greet the snot out of the day, those are the masters of the universe. Theo doesn’t focus on masters. He focuses on those who are trying and somewhat failing. Close-ups of the faces confirm that it isn’t easy for them to speak to each other. If anything it is almost impossible to convey this sense of wonder about the world. 

                Saying ‘hello’ or ‘hi’ is downright difficult. The first introduction is near impossible. Even those who know each other have problems. Oftentimes the random meetings of people can create strange new friend networks. Loneliness requires at least a handful of friend networks. Without these network people would crumble, like some sort of ‘crumble cake’. Coffee would be served. Already some of these pictures indicate some kind of coffee stain, obscuring the main image. Seeing the illustrated version of the story makes it better. 

                ‘Nice seeing you again’ is shown with an AOL Instant Messenger Icon. Few might remember this, but many generations ago, in the golden days of yore, the internet had only AOL Instant Messenger. Everybody is big into G-chat now but AOL Instant Messenger was the training wheels of instant messaging. Many romantic partners were made thanks to instant messaging. Here Theo suggests that they only see each other online. There’s nothing to show they ever meet in person. 

                Little animations try to bring the titular characters together. Ages need to be known. Theo messes with the animations. Despite their moving together they reset at the same place. It looks like a bad relationship where moving closer together only results in moving apart later on, after everything has been said. The conversation is kept up out of a need for friendship. Eccentric interests are brought up. Seahorses bring a tremendous amount of affection. Scientists refer to seahorses as ‘the stallions of the sea’ for a reason. Without the affection from another seahorse, a seahorse will grow lonely shut itself inside of its house, refusing to go outside. 

                Theo Thimo is the children’s writer of Alt Lit. An e-book complete with warped illustrations is what Alt Lit needs to reach the next level, of Alt Lit children. Young adults, tweenagers, teenagers and more have an important role in Alt Lit. Thanks to the tireless-ass efforts of Theo Thimo, now children can reach the golden Alt Lit gates.


Sarah Jessica Theo Bradley by Theo Thimo and Sarah Jean Alexander

               Hot pink makes one think. This is the hottest color to ever grace any chapbook. A few times the chapbook appears to have fail screens. See the chapbook is a video game. Since they are at rest stops much of the time, drinking red bulls and hanging out in Delaware, it isn’t the most exciting video game. The video game has a name: it is called life. People are always trying to win at life. When somebody’s at a Delaware rest stop it is impossible to feel like a winner. Delaware doesn’t breed winners. Delaware is the halfway point between DC and New York, Baltimore and New York. Without better things surrounding it Delaware would wither away into tax-free nothingness. 
                The chapbook begins with Theo chilling in New York. Is this how Theo rolls, with himself just hanging out in America’s best city? Sure why not. Theo has ‘earned it’. He signs his name below indicating he understands the terms of the agreement. From there Sarah goes on to talk about the need for jobs. Batteries aren’t included for Sarah. Everybody needs batteries to do work. A battery is motivation to give the best to that job, to let them know “I’m alt lit and I need money to live. I’ll probably write poetry at work during my lunch break and fail to talk to you. You’ve been warned.” 
                Self-perception is the secret sauce of writing poetry. Sarah Jean Alexander writes poems based off of her myriad varied experiences. That’s why Sarah is so real. Occasionally Sarah gets a little too real. She needs to bring that realness back to surreality. With surreality all the troubles of the world wash away into a series of neatly aligned little texts. Theo brings it back to the weird with a shout-out to Steve Martin. Is Steve Martin the most alt lit movie star? No but Steve Martin has free time occasionally when he’s not starring in “The Pink Panther” or being an asshole with a banjo. 
                People do everything to make Sarah Jean Alexander happy. She states as much. Yet this is a lie. Sarah Jean Alexander lives in a ‘Sad Girl House’. If everything made Sarah happy, it would be a happy house, as described in Juan Maclean’s block-rocking hit ‘Happy House’. Theo understands this as he informs Sarah ‘One day’ inviting her to the historic splendor that is Worchester, MA. In fact the chapbook becomes so good Peter Travers blurbs it. For those unaware Peter Travers is the godfather of the bros. Every bro looks up to Peter Travers. Here Peter Travers calls the chapbook ‘sexy’. Of course the chapbook is sexy it is in hot pink. 
                Beers are brought up. These are poets. Poets generally drink. Sarah Jean Alexander even works at a bar. Hence she gets great ‘deals’ on imbibing alcoholic beverages. People should hang out with Sarah. She’s in America’s greatest city according to its luxurious benches. People should also hang out with Theo. Though Theo lacks any sort of ‘alcoholic beverage’ hook up he’s probably lonely. Both of them are lonely but this chapbook brings them together with the reader to create a happy little family.

Sarah Jessica Theo Bradley by Theo Thimo and Sarah Jean Alexander

               Hot pink makes one think. This is the hottest color to ever grace any chapbook. A few times the chapbook appears to have fail screens. See the chapbook is a video game. Since they are at rest stops much of the time, drinking red bulls and hanging out in Delaware, it isn’t the most exciting video game. The video game has a name: it is called life. People are always trying to win at life. When somebody’s at a Delaware rest stop it is impossible to feel like a winner. Delaware doesn’t breed winners. Delaware is the halfway point between DC and New York, Baltimore and New York. Without better things surrounding it Delaware would wither away into tax-free nothingness. 

                The chapbook begins with Theo chilling in New York. Is this how Theo rolls, with himself just hanging out in America’s best city? Sure why not. Theo has ‘earned it’. He signs his name below indicating he understands the terms of the agreement. From there Sarah goes on to talk about the need for jobs. Batteries aren’t included for Sarah. Everybody needs batteries to do work. A battery is motivation to give the best to that job, to let them know “I’m alt lit and I need money to live. I’ll probably write poetry at work during my lunch break and fail to talk to you. You’ve been warned.” 

                Self-perception is the secret sauce of writing poetry. Sarah Jean Alexander writes poems based off of her myriad varied experiences. That’s why Sarah is so real. Occasionally Sarah gets a little too real. She needs to bring that realness back to surreality. With surreality all the troubles of the world wash away into a series of neatly aligned little texts. Theo brings it back to the weird with a shout-out to Steve Martin. Is Steve Martin the most alt lit movie star? No but Steve Martin has free time occasionally when he’s not starring in “The Pink Panther” or being an asshole with a banjo. 

                People do everything to make Sarah Jean Alexander happy. She states as much. Yet this is a lie. Sarah Jean Alexander lives in a ‘Sad Girl House’. If everything made Sarah happy, it would be a happy house, as described in Juan Maclean’s block-rocking hit ‘Happy House’. Theo understands this as he informs Sarah ‘One day’ inviting her to the historic splendor that is Worchester, MA. In fact the chapbook becomes so good Peter Travers blurbs it. For those unaware Peter Travers is the godfather of the bros. Every bro looks up to Peter Travers. Here Peter Travers calls the chapbook ‘sexy’. Of course the chapbook is sexy it is in hot pink. 

                Beers are brought up. These are poets. Poets generally drink. Sarah Jean Alexander even works at a bar. Hence she gets great ‘deals’ on imbibing alcoholic beverages. People should hang out with Sarah. She’s in America’s greatest city according to its luxurious benches. People should also hang out with Theo. Though Theo lacks any sort of ‘alcoholic beverage’ hook up he’s probably lonely. Both of them are lonely but this chapbook brings them together with the reader to create a happy little family.

I’m a Huge Dick by Sarah Jean Alexander


                ‘I’m a Huge Dick’ may be one of the most puzzling pieces to come out of alt lit ever. Some may certainly ask (with some justification): ‘Why?’ The answer of course is ‘Because Sarah Jean Alexander can’. For she is best known for her award-winning chapbook this doesn’t mean she can resist the siren call of being a ‘literary trickster’. As the head of the alt lit publishing house ‘Sad Girl House’ she can indulge in these efforts. Her relationship to Daniel Alexander is also in question, as the two shares the same last name and appears to be remarkably similar in terms of ‘snack love’. Yet little evidence exists of Sarah’s ‘snack pack’ shampoo style. This may be due to her lack of online YouTube presence. 

                Her first picture simply states ‘I’m a Huge Dick’. Does this mean her real identity is that of a man named Richard? There are so many unanswered questions. As she stares at the camera her arms are outstretched in a style reminiscent of a hug. If she was a huge dick why would she hug anybody? Contradictions like this mark her previous work for her ‘Sad Girl House’ and her more recent work as a person in real life. Life itself is extremely contradictory. All Sarah wants to show is such a style is not only a good thing but a necessary thing as well. Sarah wants to show the audience that she is indeed a dick. She fails. Who could hate a face that full of love and glasses? Anybody who could resist the plentiful charms of Sarah has not truly live a remarkable or even mundane life.  
 
                 A hoodie is overhead. Here Sarah appears to be in mid-flight in the fragile eggshell of her mind. Eyes say it all. They are looking upwards towards the heavens. Here the ‘huge’ is put in parentheses, indicating one will discover this out about her eventually, at a yet undetermined point in time. Sarah’s facial expression is as mysterious as Mona Lisa’s, if Mona Lisa lived in Baltimore and served beer. Few understand Baltimore, that weird, city, indifferent to its fate. Could in fact Baltimore be the inspiration to Sarah’s statement of being ‘A huge dick’? Or are her motivations obscured by her life in a ‘Sad Girl House’? 

                For her final picture she looks down, presumably at the hell that exists on Earth. Lately Satan has been making His Almighty presence felt, through various political elections, economic conditions, and severe lack of waffles. At the very end Sarah thanks Theo Thimo for his help through this journey, for Theo remains one of the most unknowable figures in alt lit besides all those anonymous people. Will anybody ever call Sarah a dick again? The answer is yes.

I’m a Huge Dick by Sarah Jean Alexander

                I’m a Huge Dick’ may be one of the most puzzling pieces to come out of alt lit ever. Some may certainly ask (with some justification): ‘Why?’ The answer of course is ‘Because Sarah Jean Alexander can’. For she is best known for her award-winning chapbook this doesn’t mean she can resist the siren call of being a ‘literary trickster’. As the head of the alt lit publishing house ‘Sad Girl House’ she can indulge in these efforts. Her relationship to Daniel Alexander is also in question, as the two shares the same last name and appears to be remarkably similar in terms of ‘snack love’. Yet little evidence exists of Sarah’s ‘snack pack’ shampoo style. This may be due to her lack of online YouTube presence. 

                Her first picture simply states ‘I’m a Huge Dick’. Does this mean her real identity is that of a man named Richard? There are so many unanswered questions. As she stares at the camera her arms are outstretched in a style reminiscent of a hug. If she was a huge dick why would she hug anybody? Contradictions like this mark her previous work for her ‘Sad Girl House’ and her more recent work as a person in real life. Life itself is extremely contradictory. All Sarah wants to show is such a style is not only a good thing but a necessary thing as well. Sarah wants to show the audience that she is indeed a dick. She fails. Who could hate a face that full of love and glasses? Anybody who could resist the plentiful charms of Sarah has not truly live a remarkable or even mundane life.  

 

                 A hoodie is overhead. Here Sarah appears to be in mid-flight in the fragile eggshell of her mind. Eyes say it all. They are looking upwards towards the heavens. Here the ‘huge’ is put in parentheses, indicating one will discover this out about her eventually, at a yet undetermined point in time. Sarah’s facial expression is as mysterious as Mona Lisa’s, if Mona Lisa lived in Baltimore and served beer. Few understand Baltimore, that weird, city, indifferent to its fate. Could in fact Baltimore be the inspiration to Sarah’s statement of being ‘A huge dick’? Or are her motivations obscured by her life in a ‘Sad Girl House’? 

                For her final picture she looks down, presumably at the hell that exists on Earth. Lately Satan has been making His Almighty presence felt, through various political elections, economic conditions, and severe lack of waffles. At the very end Sarah thanks Theo Thimo for his help through this journey, for Theo remains one of the most unknowable figures in alt lit besides all those anonymous people. Will anybody ever call Sarah a dick again? The answer is yes.

im you art shit by Theo Thimo



                Theo Thimo offers up one of the most tasteful chapbooks in recent memory. Language and word choice is extraordinarily important for Theo. Every curse, every use of the vernacular is carefully analyzed to create a maximum emotion impact. Most of the words refer to the reader as a ‘shit’ and repeat the statement ‘fuck you’. What do these words even mean on a screen versus said aloud? 

                Cursing, profanity takes on a whole different meaning here. Here the speaker appears to take on a hostile persona. It wonders what purpose it serves. The speaker is sad referring to itself as ‘shit’. Little appears to be better. Multiple times it says ‘BOOM’ in an attempt to explode itself into something new, something real. ‘I’m not me’ the speaker claims raising the existential question ‘How am I not myself?’ a question originally posed by the ancient philosopher Dustin Hoffman. 

                Here the speaker moves away from insulting the reader to hating on itself. While the reader may have tough skin for this sort of material the speaker does not. The speaker becomes a broken bone, full of life, full of delicious cartilage. Unable to tie shoes or ride a bike, the speaker clearly sucks at this little thing called ‘life’. Perhaps this explains its antagonistic stance against the reader. Somehow the speaker is able to swallow themselves whole unlike some people who are named, shamed, and tamed. 

                Good thing the speaker returns to insulting the reader. The claim one has shit in the mind is one thing. But to state that the water to flush it down is not even worth it is entirely different. Poor speaker suffers badly. At least the mind of the reader is full of TNT shit. Considering all the explosions the speaker goes through with saying ‘fuck you’ and ‘you’re a piece of shit’ the TNT could be valuable. Anger is one way to explode. Another is through literal explosive materials. People get hurt either way. 

                The speaker wants to tear themselves apart. Unfortunately if the speaker is busy creating a PDF to share on WordPress it may lack the physical strength to tear apart its own body. After this dark thought it almost becomes positive. Every angry word is twisted into a motivational speech, though a very profane one. 

                It ends with the reassurance that no one will see it anymore. Guess it explodes. That’s fine. Sometimes it is necessary. No one can predict when they will explode.

im you art shit by Theo Thimo

                Theo Thimo offers up one of the most tasteful chapbooks in recent memory. Language and word choice is extraordinarily important for Theo. Every curse, every use of the vernacular is carefully analyzed to create a maximum emotion impact. Most of the words refer to the reader as a ‘shit’ and repeat the statement ‘fuck you’. What do these words even mean on a screen versus said aloud? 

                Cursing, profanity takes on a whole different meaning here. Here the speaker appears to take on a hostile persona. It wonders what purpose it serves. The speaker is sad referring to itself as ‘shit’. Little appears to be better. Multiple times it says ‘BOOM’ in an attempt to explode itself into something new, something real. ‘I’m not me’ the speaker claims raising the existential question ‘How am I not myself?’ a question originally posed by the ancient philosopher Dustin Hoffman. 

                Here the speaker moves away from insulting the reader to hating on itself. While the reader may have tough skin for this sort of material the speaker does not. The speaker becomes a broken bone, full of life, full of delicious cartilage. Unable to tie shoes or ride a bike, the speaker clearly sucks at this little thing called ‘life’. Perhaps this explains its antagonistic stance against the reader. Somehow the speaker is able to swallow themselves whole unlike some people who are named, shamed, and tamed. 

                Good thing the speaker returns to insulting the reader. The claim one has shit in the mind is one thing. But to state that the water to flush it down is not even worth it is entirely different. Poor speaker suffers badly. At least the mind of the reader is full of TNT shit. Considering all the explosions the speaker goes through with saying ‘fuck you’ and ‘you’re a piece of shit’ the TNT could be valuable. Anger is one way to explode. Another is through literal explosive materials. People get hurt either way. 

                The speaker wants to tear themselves apart. Unfortunately if the speaker is busy creating a PDF to share on WordPress it may lack the physical strength to tear apart its own body. After this dark thought it almost becomes positive. Every angry word is twisted into a motivational speech, though a very profane one. 

                It ends with the reassurance that no one will see it anymore. Guess it explodes. That’s fine. Sometimes it is necessary. No one can predict when they will explode.



Shabby Doll House




                I’ve said before Shabby Doll House is one of the best things in alt lit. Let me apologize. Shabby Doll House is the best thing in alt lit right now. Love these stories. Out of billions of submissions Lucy chooses just 9 to be fine. From these nine she distills pure-ass essence. Every time I review these I tend to go back and re-read them. Thus one review never feels like it is enough for these brain treats. 

                Sarah Jean Alexander knows about beauty. Or maybe she knows nothing. Beauty is such a difficult thing to define. Looks are one part of it. Confidence is a much bigger part. People can hear confidence, feel confidence, and even taste it in their liquor with pizza. When I think of beauty I think of a perfect nap, I think of that very picture above the poem. An empty space on my bed which I hope will be filled with my best friend. The space is implied, empty for someone. 

                Guillaume Morissette describes Montreal. The apartment he lives in is mostly empty space, hallways. I like that situation. When I have a roommate the less I see the roommate the more I like the roommate. How to describe it is hard but seeing a person you live with less is more comfortable. Waking up should not have to involve discussion of French Canadian roots or separatism. I like the casual level of humor in the story. Jobs are good things to complain about. That’s part of the reason I enjoy working so much. Black holes of people exist. Avoid them. Nobody wants to grow up to be Dan. It happens just like stars collapse to form black holes. 

                Mike Bushnell’s voice comes through loud and clear in his piece. I like the rhythm of this poem/story/shouted piece. Literally as I read it I hear his specific cadence come through with the repeated phrases such as ‘but bring’ or ‘I am not sure’. There’s something amazing with how Mike can just bludgeon you with a column of words. 

                Theo Thimo and LK Shaw appear in Gchat form. Reading these little pieces of ideas reminds me I should be on Gchat more. Whole books are made from Gchat. Here is a rough guide to what is up: LK and Theo switch places, with one setting the other up for hilarity. OJ is a grand life. Can’t believe Theo doesn’t take OJ more seriously. I take my juices very seriously. Glad that Theo hates Jupiter. Out of all of the planets of the solar system Jupiter is the biggest douche. 

                Mallory Whitten takes her time with panic attacks. That’s important. If you think panic attacks age like fine wine you are incorrect. Horrible things happen with panic attacks. Hope Mallory is okay. With panic attacks it is hard to do anything, to sleep, to read, and to eat. Eventually it passes. Unfortunately it requires a lot of time. 

                Frank Hinton appears from her months-long hiatus from the internet. I miss Frank. She is rad. Here she enters a new form of work. This is Frank’s first play. What she does is spend an inordinate amount of time on the internet. It sounds healthy so far. Then she goes to places and does not check the internet. This is a far more worrisome development. Salem plays ‘Till the World’ ends for the Act 3. Wonder how the unfinished play turns out. 

                Chris Dankland’s head is made up of smoke. Despite that problem he sees clearly. It doesn’t matter when. Late at night in a Denny’s is when he truly shines. Only in the darkness can anybody shine. Sure it is easy to be a nice person when everyone is watching. When nobody is looking or the wrong people are looking it is so easy to be bad, hard to be good. 

                I’m here. This is a rare occurrence, perhaps the only time I will do this strange thing. Listen to the following song when reading the story. Sorry if it doesn’t sync up properly but hey, I’m a weird kind of sloth. Here is the song for the story: Mouse on Mars – Parastrophics – iMatch – Track 8. 

                Jesus Moses is messing up the sky. Whatever he can’t touch he destroys. That’s messed up. Feel sorry for the sky. At least at the end of it he’s super weird and everybody else is normal. Strangeness is a commodity precious few are privy to. 

                Love the artwork for this thing. It makes me feel alive. Having the mix between outright poetry, Gchats, stories, and the first play is indeed a fantastic thing. Indeed, to quote the wise bard Jackson Nieuwland ‘Everything is fantastic’.

Shabby Doll House

                I’ve said before Shabby Doll House is one of the best things in alt lit. Let me apologize. Shabby Doll House is the best thing in alt lit right now. Love these stories. Out of billions of submissions Lucy chooses just 9 to be fine. From these nine she distills pure-ass essence. Every time I review these I tend to go back and re-read them. Thus one review never feels like it is enough for these brain treats. 

                Sarah Jean Alexander knows about beauty. Or maybe she knows nothing. Beauty is such a difficult thing to define. Looks are one part of it. Confidence is a much bigger part. People can hear confidence, feel confidence, and even taste it in their liquor with pizza. When I think of beauty I think of a perfect nap, I think of that very picture above the poem. An empty space on my bed which I hope will be filled with my best friend. The space is implied, empty for someone. 

                Guillaume Morissette describes Montreal. The apartment he lives in is mostly empty space, hallways. I like that situation. When I have a roommate the less I see the roommate the more I like the roommate. How to describe it is hard but seeing a person you live with less is more comfortable. Waking up should not have to involve discussion of French Canadian roots or separatism. I like the casual level of humor in the story. Jobs are good things to complain about. That’s part of the reason I enjoy working so much. Black holes of people exist. Avoid them. Nobody wants to grow up to be Dan. It happens just like stars collapse to form black holes. 

                Mike Bushnell’s voice comes through loud and clear in his piece. I like the rhythm of this poem/story/shouted piece. Literally as I read it I hear his specific cadence come through with the repeated phrases such as ‘but bring’ or ‘I am not sure’. There’s something amazing with how Mike can just bludgeon you with a column of words. 

                Theo Thimo and LK Shaw appear in Gchat form. Reading these little pieces of ideas reminds me I should be on Gchat more. Whole books are made from Gchat. Here is a rough guide to what is up: LK and Theo switch places, with one setting the other up for hilarity. OJ is a grand life. Can’t believe Theo doesn’t take OJ more seriously. I take my juices very seriously. Glad that Theo hates Jupiter. Out of all of the planets of the solar system Jupiter is the biggest douche. 

                Mallory Whitten takes her time with panic attacks. That’s important. If you think panic attacks age like fine wine you are incorrect. Horrible things happen with panic attacks. Hope Mallory is okay. With panic attacks it is hard to do anything, to sleep, to read, and to eat. Eventually it passes. Unfortunately it requires a lot of time. 

                Frank Hinton appears from her months-long hiatus from the internet. I miss Frank. She is rad. Here she enters a new form of work. This is Frank’s first play. What she does is spend an inordinate amount of time on the internet. It sounds healthy so far. Then she goes to places and does not check the internet. This is a far more worrisome development. Salem plays ‘Till the World’ ends for the Act 3. Wonder how the unfinished play turns out. 

                Chris Dankland’s head is made up of smoke. Despite that problem he sees clearly. It doesn’t matter when. Late at night in a Denny’s is when he truly shines. Only in the darkness can anybody shine. Sure it is easy to be a nice person when everyone is watching. When nobody is looking or the wrong people are looking it is so easy to be bad, hard to be good. 

                I’m here. This is a rare occurrence, perhaps the only time I will do this strange thing. Listen to the following song when reading the story. Sorry if it doesn’t sync up properly but hey, I’m a weird kind of sloth. Here is the song for the story: Mouse on Mars – Parastrophics – iMatch – Track 8. 

                Jesus Moses is messing up the sky. Whatever he can’t touch he destroys. That’s messed up. Feel sorry for the sky. At least at the end of it he’s super weird and everybody else is normal. Strangeness is a commodity precious few are privy to. 

                Love the artwork for this thing. It makes me feel alive. Having the mix between outright poetry, Gchats, stories, and the first play is indeed a fantastic thing. Indeed, to quote the wise bard Jackson Nieuwland ‘Everything is fantastic’.