Sean Lovelace is running right now, far. Other times he teaches at Ball State University. HOW SOME PEOPLE LIKE THEIR EGGS is his flash fiction collection by Rose Metal Press. His works have appeared in Crazyhorse, Diagram, Sonora Review, Willow Springs, and so on.
11. Agatha Christie on a surf board. Jack Kerouac playing football. Simone de Beauvoir (with posing cad Sartre by her side). Etc.
4. The new Diagram is sick like recycled mustache combs.
3. Anderbo.com wishes to post up to the first 36 manuscript pages of an unpublished novel on its website by December 21st, 2011 for at least the following six months. They will look at the FIRST 36 PAGES (up to 9,000 words) of your e-manuscript submitted to editors@anderbo.com and decide within 60 days of its arrival if want to see more.
2. Glow: “I do not want to read, draw, talk or see tonight. I hope this doesn’t last long,” wrote Francesca Woodman, the photographer who used her own naked teenage body in her work and then killed herself at twenty-two. The day she died, according to her father, she found out she’d lost a grant, and she’d had her bike stolen.
2. The best site on Pac-Man I’ve seen so far.
2. Things about Erroll Morris and his eye/s.
2. An old Diane di Prima sonnet sequence.
1. Wow. Édouard Levé.
0. Here is that link to the Sadness Museum.
1. Best nonfiction books of all time, etc.
2. A list of novels about lonely people.
3. Shelia McClear interview about psychology, sexism, stripping, memoir.
I just totally want to defend someone’s right to do that sort of work whether it’s a peep show or prostitution. I mean, I don’t want to be a prostitute. I would just defend it, because I’ve had a lot of jobs, and many of them were more demoralizing than the peep show.
11. WTF? Murakami wrote yet another story about cats…
httpv://youtu.be/-ahVTorF2OI
The sounds Stafford make at 4:05-ish are pretty epic. Also enjoyed, “Yeh. Get the fuck off me!”
12. Barf bag collector site. Enjoy.
My sister is inside watching a movie and bleeding.
Mr. Fuller was the new choir teacher.
He shows you his drawings, sketchbooks full of naked women.
The whole time I was manipulating him I was telling him how it was done.
Now that I’ve finished grading, finished everything here that there is to finish, I’m in bed, watching the occasional big-winged bird fly by, listening to the crackheads smash their words together.
File his stories in your head: Homosexual experience, Threesomes, prostitution, Asian girls.
They were talking about their diseases.
Denis called his fiancée my old lady.
There’s a leak, I told him, it’s right over my bed.
He had an air gun, a beer box set up to shoot.
You’re making out with a stranger in a trailer when the bed breaks.
I went to a wedding reception at the house of a man who painted with his ass.
It was a summer program.
Where are the serious glow Richard Brautigan scholarship texts? The contemplative biography, the critical one, the highbrow, the wrong one, the near-right one, the way-2-academic one, the lazy-as-loon one, the tell-all, etc. Don’t you feel a fucking void? No, no, don’t dare whisper memoirs by his so-called “friend” (Don’t get me started—whole different post) or his daughter dear. Where. Are. They? Lead me. Tell me real. [I am looking forward to this. Maybe it will unruffle me.]
Do I need to write the damn thing? (Or you?) Maybe.
Rinaldi was a disappointing audience.
Yes.
I got a lot of use for that arm.
After a while I went out and left the hospital and walked back to the hotel in the rain.
In the morning there was a big wind blowing and the waves were running high up on the beach and he was awake a long time before he remembered that his heart was broken.
“I feel fine,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with me. I feel fine.”
But they could not help his fear because he was up against an older magic now.
First there were birds, then me, then the Greeks, and even the birds got more out of her than I did.
“We’ll have to go,” Nick said. “I can see we’ll have to go.”
Looking back from the mounting grade before the track curved into the hills he could see the firelight in the clearing.
Then he was dead.
When they fired the first volley he was sitting down in the water with his head on his knees.
A short time after he contracted gonorrhea from a sales girl in a loop department store while riding in a taxicab through Lincoln Park.
It was a good thing to have in reserve.
Likes: Seeing someone with authentic bounce in their step (00.9, 0.49). Initial 3-pointer is to go over 110 points, thus granting free tacos for fans. Rodman’s houses never had furniture, only a mattress (though he already owns the coffin he will be buried in and sometimes sleeps in it) and a giant TV to watch game tapes. (He obsessively studied trends on where an individual player’s missed shots tended to bounce.) Announcer goes with Mexican food puns. Rodman’s friends know him as shy. He once married himself. In midst of this 3-pointer run, Rodman plays excellent D (1:06), causing near air-ball. This quote on a phone call he received while gambling at a casino.
“It was like the ‘somebody died call’. I picked up the phone and Madonna was like, ‘I’m ovulating, I’m ovulating. Get your ass up here’. So I left my chips on the table, flew five hours to New York and did my thing. We got done and she was standing on her head in an attempt to promote conception — just like any girl trying to get pregnant. I flew back to Las Vegas and picked up my game where I left off.”
Dislikes: Pick or scratch at 31? Ref should have said ‘fuck it’ and gave Rodman last 3. Pippen’s black belt with brown suit. (Wish we could see his shoes and get a significant argument going.)
I hope you’re not an amateur, the type to quaff dark beer in the summer, light in the winter. The sun all splattered as a flung ball of cheese, so time for Mexican. Today, Modelo Especial (of behemoth Grupo Modelo). You’ll need a heavy, cold glass. (If you can, a chalice [or goblet] would be best, preferably one with scoring [You can do this yourself with a glass cutter] on the inside bottom of the glass, to create a CO2 nucleation point.) You do drink your beer from glass? You do understand that aroma, clarity, head retention, bubble stream, the sheer synaptical rush, the anticipation, etc. is dependent on glass? Listen: Do you want a quality head? Yes, yes, you do—it traps the essential effervescent volatiles. What? You want to just release the volatiles like a bunch of damn kids running round the Walgreens parking lot? Ah, Jesus. You sick-ass. You know what, let’s move on.
Parents. Or, a parent, this woman (the men whirl around with all the gravitas of a vacuum cleaner). Betty Superman (Rose Metal winner) dominates, is the word I’m using. Who is she? Mingy fuss-budget. Rueful drag. Lying truth-yawper. Despotic depressive tarantella. Candy bar cad. Underdeveloped sloppy-knocker. God gossiper. Emphysemic tart. Mother. To this narrator. To this daughter trying to figure out something about her mother. To settle something. To grapple, to slam, to lift to a light, to see, to step upon, something. Tiff Holland (several glow poems here) has created a case study of characterization. A repulsion and an embrace. A homage and an exorcism. A bring up and a take down, of Betty Superman, not so easy—she dominates.
Do you even know how to pour a beer?
Likes: Penis shorts. Announcers who just say things. Announcers who call the basket “the hole” and “the well.” True no-look at 1:36. Bird threatens a mullet. Oh fuck it, Bird goes mullet. NBA players with flabby, spaghetti arms. McHale ugly and gracious. Robert Parish wearing number 00. Robert Parish having 2 ounces of weed Fed-exed to his door in 1991, busted, pays fine of $37. Ainge much like a gray squirrel. Socks striped. Socks up to knees. Opponents (Atlanta Hawks) falling off bench/waving towels/cheering for (4:13, 5:07, etc.), Bird. DJ gravitas. No one in crowd texting. Cameraman at 4:52 frames up stark silhouettes of back of crowd member’s heads–attempt at cinematography. Shot at 4:13 (slo-mo 4:48) will make you laugh or go get a beer: They both release endorphins.
Dislikes: Fan in salmon colored shirt (3:55). Not a good hue. It makes a person appear sallow.
To have your writing solicited, and then to be rejected by said solicitor, is good for you.
