I love this story by Mathias Svalina at The Collagist.

It makes me want to write more and better and isn't that what a great story does?

I have a "poem" up at Dark Sky Magazine.

How can someone write all day? Why don't I write all day? I can hula hoop an hour and a half but I can't write that long without checking my facebook every 10 minutes (I mean every paragraph?)

I can get an mfa in hula hooping??

This summer is hula hooping and writing.

Please never end.

Tuscaloosa writers (including myself) wrote small pieces about a robot statue that's on UA's campus. All proceeds will go to Holt Elementary School, which was damaged in the tornadoes.

Check it out. Order. Promote.

Things I've been doing instead of writing:

reading the box car children
watching ally mcbeal
coloring
watering plants
drinking
sleeping
watching movies about gangsters and druglords
picking at scabs
making dinner
eating dinner
meowing at the neighbor's cat through their window
reading behind the neighbors house because they have excellent patio furniture
looking at patio furniture online
swimming
looking at recipes online
making cake
texting
chasing the cats around while making dragon noises
googling 'dragon noises'
googling 'swimming for dummies'
watching videos of bunnies
riding my bike
riding the neighbor's bike
thinking about growing my hair out
stalking people on facebook
stalking people on the internet
facebook is the internet
thinking about my blog
thinking about ways to be a better blogger
thinking about deleting my blog
googling "buffets in tuscaloosa, al"

I can tell whenever there's been a special on television about the Brandi Wells from Longview, TX that disappeared.

288 people googled "Brandi Wells" and looked at my blog for 10 seconds or less last night.

Crispin Best tells me what to eat for lunch

me: hey crispin best what should i eat for lunch?

Crispin: hi mate
eat tortillas
and imagine
if attilla the hun
had been mexican
that dude was like 5'1'' or something... what a boss
ateeya

me: what would he have been like if he was taller?

Crispin: imagine

me: pussy-assed?

Crispin: no fricken way
he would've womp'd way more foes
just eat whatever you want as long as it's tofurkey, babe

me: i ate tofurkey once, but it wasn't shaped like a turkey. it felt like a lie.

Crispin: feeling like
"tofurkey turducken"
"tofucken"
?

me: tofucken

Crispin: get to fuck
get tofucken

Bald

TRNSFR has a new blog, airport donut, and they've posted a
story I wrote and a short interview.