o 26 in idea barrages

Last night’s nightmare involved having to take the Math regents as an adult while a virus that scrambled peoples’ emotional responses was tearing through the community. You ask “Mike, why don’t you ever sleep?”

How dull and un-self-reflected, how privileged and unchallenged one would have to be to legitimately believe that they have too few regrets to mention. How little you’d learn, how little empathy you’d devolve in a creamy peanut butter smooth life like that. What a waste.

In this nightmare, I got a ticket to the Oscars which I only discovered was counterfeit after I was seated. I kept getting booted by security but every time I left, I got lost and ended up back in auxiliary seating, only to get booted again. Over and over until I finally woke up.

you can go rags to riches
or riches to rags
the hitch is we’re all tagged
for body bags
in forty-five years or tomorrow
this thin cloak of life
merely borrowed

One buff arm - “Porno about a Dentist Office”. The other buff arm - “Porno about a Police Station”. They shake hands over “The Title: Cavity Search”.

An old World War 2 anchor tattoo is a gramp stamp.

A sitcom about a failing yoga studio called DOWNWARD DOUG.

A group of friendly rivals for The Chipmunks, a band of hip-hop squirrels called “Nutty By Nature”.