We're All Damaged Somehow."-a Great

Write Like It Matters, And It Will.

Careful There, Poet. I Might Start To Believe You.

Sitting In My Favorite Coffeehouse With A New Notebook And A Hot Cup Of Java Is My Idea Of Heaven.

As A Kid, I Imagined Lots Of Different Scenarios For My Life. I Would Be An Astronaut. Maybe A Cartoonist. A Famous Explorer Or Rock Star. Never Once Did I See Myself Standing Under The Window Of A House Belonging To Some Druggie Named Carbine, Waiting For His Yard Gnome To Steal His Stash So I Could Get A Cab Back To A Cheap Motel Where My Friend, A Neurotic, Death-obsessed Dwarf, Was Waiting For Me So We Could Get On The Road To An Undefined Place And A Mysterious Dr. X, Who Would Cure Me Of Mad Cow Disease And Stop A Band Of Dark Energy From Destroying The Universe.

Just Once I’d Like To Meet A Fella Who Isn’t A Phony. Somebody Who Doesn’t Wanna Buy Me A Fur So He Can Show Me Off To His Boys.