my sleep patterns are Escherian tessallations

i’ve been doing busy work two days straight and feel as satisfied as an undrunk beer

no one calls, no one texts, no one gives me things to help my achy wrist

the end of the semester smells like the end of days

if we get chosen for the rapture based on our study habits, i know i ain’t going to heaven

i think my digestive system is in the planning stages of an all-out rebellion—need me some yogurt!

eva green still hasn’t called

i’m gonna play some vandross, you gonna take your pants off

blog hasn’t called either

my songs are writers blocked-up and there ain’t no fiber or liquid plumbr that can help

i have one semester of course work left.  i will miss course work like a bedouin misses sandstorms

i should do a weekly youtube address like obama

here’s a self-portrait:

i’m the guy with the beard

what’s a man got to do to get a gawker mention?

tumblr, tumblr, are you humblr?  are you a stumblr?  i’m a mumblr.  my car’s a rumblr.  my life’s a jumblr

i might just quit it all and become a hip-hop artist

word up, y’all