Do not play the accordion above me while I am dying in the abyss.

I should be kept away from the internet when I am in this state of extreme exhaustion. Otherwise I will do things like this:



Barry Fitzgerald will serve you only the finest of beverages! Do not try to sue me Barry. I do not believe in ghosts. When you google yourself and see your picture on my website, you will know that you have finally achieved internet Nirvana (wherein you basically just stare at porn pop ups).

Also, please notify the police that the following item was stolen from my house:



Holy freaking bastardization did that ever look soporific in my kitchen.

Yeah, okay, so you did me a favor. My grandma bought that for me on the day I first suffered a multiple bone fracture. She is basically a complete sadist. She was so happy that day that she almost tried to give me drugs, but then my dad ran her out of the house with a rusty shovel. Basically this is the story of my childhood. P.S. My mom did not perish in a household fire. She is alive and well.

This is a chapter from my book:

Chapter 1

there was this man and he was from a place that was really far away it was so far away that if you tried to walk there you would have to walk for several hours to arrive there the man had a bugle and he blew it at everyone because he was a jerk geez what the em eff is wrong with the common folk nowadays it is like people are born crazy like a loon like some batty old crone

We will discuss publishing options at your convenience, Random House. Do not try to censor my work.