Tag Archives: Madonna breasts

Level 8 Nachos. JMWW. Roxane Gay.

I had nachos about 9:29 this morning, so I guess that was breakfast. I don’t eat breakfast. I suppose it’s good to change things up, to avoid functional fixedness. They were Level 8 nachos, with October salsa. They made my head feel like an American Renegade. I went corn with a side of corn chips. The onions curled pleasantly. Kidney beans are the king of beans, Madonna once told me.



Lately I try to get on HTML Giant and the server is down or something. That has happened seven times lately. If anyone reads this from HTML Giant could you please fix your server and don’t say it’s on my end because my computer is perfect. It has THINKVANTAGE and McPrint and OILY SHIFT keys. It smells like Socrates.

HTML always has interesting things to read. When I am eating nachos I either read HTML Giant or surf the Best of Youtube videos. Most of the youtube videos are really awful. Most depressing are the comedians and the people getting hurt videos. The comedians are never funny, so that makes me feel lonely. I think it is fundamentally wrong to enjoy watching people getting hurt. So I guess I’m saying just read HTML GIANT while you eat nachos.



There is a new JMWW. I think JMWW is trying to rise up in the world.

Matt Bell writes about how kick ass Everyday Genius has been. He even mentions my bore butter flash.

The best fiction piece is by Roxane Gay. I keep thinking Barthelme with a bit of street scene Perec with a hint of hyper-observant Lorrie Moore. I also just like stories about gambling and sex and humming teeth. Humming teeth. That’s why you should read Roxane Gay. Have you ever read the Chekhov story about the prostitute and the dentist? That story will devastate your heart. (Written about here) Well, this Roxane Gay story is like that, cyclical misery and fun.

The best poem is by Amy MacLennan. It reminds me of Gary Snyder. The sensual nature of food.

I wrote a new fiction piece yesterday about photographing myself. I think I will send it to JMWW.


In Tennessee I saw a sign that said WE DO NOT RENT PIGS. I would have taken a photo but I’m not going to stop the car and turn around and take a photo for this miserable blog. In Tennessee Little Man caught a catfish. In Tennessee I saw five turkeys and drank Fat Tire. That’s all about Tennessee.


Flash contest! THEY GIVE YOU BEER!!!!

Fourth Annual Schlafly Beer Micro-Brew Micro-Fiction Contest
Submit your best micro-fiction and compete to win a $1,500 First Prize plus one case of micro-brewed Schlafly Beer!

500 words maximum per story, up to three stories per entry.
$20 entry fee also buys one year subscription to River Styx.
Include name and address on cover letter only.
Entrants notified by S.A.S.E.
Winners published in our April issue.
River Styx editors will select winners.
All stories considered for publication.
Send stories and S.A.S.E. by December 31st to:

River Styx’s Schlafly Beer Micro-fiction Contest
3547 Olive Street, Suite 107
St. Louis, MO  63103