Mister Randon

Dear Followers,

I’m going to submit my latest short story for publication. Wish me luck. Please and thanks.

I’ve really been laboring through my last few writing sessions. I have the motivation, but seem to be lacking inspiration as of late. Fuck it. Tomorrow is a new day.

If you have a lip ring, there is a 98.5% chance that you are gross. There is a 1.5% chance that you are sexy as hell. So before you sit in that chair to get that extra piece of body flair, know this: the odds are against you.

I’m working on a new short story about an 8-year-old boy named Jackie Cole, who forgets important things, but remembers the details.

Positivism: a way of understanding based on science. It’s better than theological attribution, but perhaps we should revisit metaphysical attribution.

People are being funny on the internet. Smart people are being funny on the internet. Smart people who use their words are being funny on the internet. And you can read the shit for free. (I know!) Anyway…

Here is an example.

Technology imitates Design.

Life imitates Art.

It started when I was in seventh grade, when I was awkward because everyone in seventh grade is awkward. It’s an awkward time of life. In the 90s they called us pre-adolescents but now they call them ‘tweens. Tweens are a demographic now, a market with buying power. Am I right, Biebs? Seventh graders have iPods and cell phones now. We had gameboys, which was the ultimate in mobile entertainment. I never had a gameboy though. I didn’t even have a Nintendo. My parents spent all their money on our house and on tuition to the private school I went to. It was in the halls of that private school where I—as an awkward seventh grader, still shorter than most of the girls—was introduced to Weezer. The great and powerful Weezer. And then everything happened.

Tapping away at the keys. Creating a world. She will cry over this one. She will weep.