She is, like most of my friends, a terrible judge of character.

For the first twenty years of my life I rocked myself to sleep. It was a harmless enough hobby, but eventually I had to give it up. Throughout the next twenty-…

You can't kill the Rooster. You might can fuck him up a little sometimes, but you can't kill him.

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. …

That would be a good thing for them to cut on my tombstone: Wherever she went, including here, it was against her better judgment.

I like you-I have no taste-but I like you.

I fear I'll do some damage One fine day But I would not be convicted By a jury of my peers Still crazy Still crazy Still crazy after all these years.