When They're Born Outside, Crows Come And

The Things I've Bought From Strangers In The Dark Would Curl Your Hair.

A Week After My Drugs Ran Out, I Left My Bed To Perform At The College, Deciding At The Last Minute To Skip Both The Doughnut Toss And The March Of The Headless Plush Toys. Instead, I Just Heated Up A Skillet Of Plastic Soldiers, Poured A Milkshake Over My Head And Called It A Night.

After A Few Months In My Parents' Basement, I Took An Apartment Near The State University, Where I Discovered Both Crystal Methamphetamine And Conceptual Art. Either One Of These Things Are Dangerous, But In Combination They Have The Potential To Destroy Entire Civilizations.

My Hands Tend To Be Full Enough Dealing With People Who Hate Me For Who I Am. Concentrate Too Hard On The Millions Of People Who Hate You For What You Are And You're Likely To Turn Into One Of Those Unkempt, Sloppy Dressers Who Sag Beneath The Weight Of The Two Hundred Political Buttons They Wear Pinned To Their Coats And Knapsacks.

I Find It Ridiculous To Assign A Gender To An Inanimate Object Incapable Of Disrobing And Making An Occasional Fool Of Itself.