I am a scatter-brain and highly impatient, hear me scream!

Hello.



I am very scatter-brained and highly impatient. People close to me know that very intimately. People who do not see me very often just see me as whatever they see me as: a SPAM eating fat ass with facial hair trimmed for a taint.

That has nothing to do with anything.

I am hosting Owen Egerton's One Page Salon at the North Door on July 3rd. It will be a grand old time with great friends and lots of heckling! Click here. 

Also, the Cockroach Conservatory Vol. 1 release party is on July 13th which is a Friday which means it will be bad luck if you miss it. Click here. 

I also want to tell you about some changes that will be happening to my Patreon.

Deerman is continuing! Never fear! But my Patreon is expanding its scope and will be changing to support Cockroach Conservatory projects. Deerman is one of them. So, instead of supporting and getting only ONE podcast, you'll be supporting and getting many podcasts and stories.

The Cockroach Conservatory's main mission is to spotlight the weird and to pay the writers and artists that bring the weird to us. We're doing a magazine and the Patreon will help offset some of the costs associated with producing it. Not only will the Patreon support that, it will support a growing library of crazy ideas for podcasts, web-shows, and live events. If you haven't heard any of this until now, check out the website and check out the podcast. Pre-order the magazine here.

 That's all for now, friends. Thanks for your eyeballs!

The New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest: The Totally Whacked Out on Weirdo Stuff, Really? Edition!

Welcome to another edition of the New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest: The Totally Whacked Out on Weirdo Stuff, Really? Edition! Cool!

Let's dive right in before the earwig in my brain starts shitting.

We should really stop fishing into the ceiling. 

Derivative.

My wife tells me the clown isn't there but the longer I stay on the job, the more real he feels to me. I can feel him breathing down my neck waiting for me to fuck up. Do you hear what I'm saying, kid? We're all in a prison of our own making. And you're going down. 

The Politics of Bile

I'm sitting here thinking about nothing and there's this pit in my stomach. I'm not sick but I feel like I have to throw up. It's finally happened.

The internet is making me sick.

I think it's making us all sick.

The internet itself is not bad but the way we've decided to organize within it is what is making me sick. Social networks are garbage.

Driving to work, I heard some dickhead on NPR saying how we have many selves but social networks force us to delete context and become one self. Your self at work among coworkers is different than your self in your hometown with your family. They are equally you because they are facets of you. Your personality changes with context. That's important.

On social networks, we're forced to be the same person to everyone regardless of context. So we take an average of what we believe our different groups think of us and that becomes us. Or we take the extremes of what we are and all of the sudden, that's our new self. We're constantly yelling and screaming about utter bullshit online and we've finally merged our internet brains with our going-to-the-coffee-shop brains. You can be nice to a barista even if you're not nice about them online. It's okay. Nobody will think you're phoney. You don't have to be a Holden Caulfield monologue.

There once was a time on the internet when we didn't connect to anyone we actually knew unless we emailed them or IMed them or ICQd them or whatever. It took a desire to communicate with somebody. Communication wasn't on display for the whole world so we didn't have to have to labor over every single word so as to not betray any notion of who we were to other people in our real social networks.

Facebook Messenger is good. I like it. It's like AIM and it's private. But the majority of what I'm talking about is how we are all projecting just how low our nutsacks dangle with our immovable opinions and shitposts.

Message boards were great because being a troll was awesome, if you were so inclined. You could choose to be a troll and nobody was the wiser. You could choose not to be a troll and still have just as fulfilling of a life on the internet. You could make two accounts and be both, perfectly happy with your dual nature. You could kiss your mama with the same mouth you kissed the gaming intelligence agency's message board filled Final Fantasy VII hentai fan art. Now we're all trolls and we're not even good at it. We're all repeating the same meme over and over again as if it unlocks some magical truth that will shame somebody who disagrees with us into changing their minds.

Nothing works and everything is disgusting.

I deleted the Facebook app off my phone because I was tethered to it. I was mindlessly scrolling and getting irritated by all the posturing on there. I deleted it because I was also constantly posturing. I was tailoring my life to look one way but I'm not an actor playing a character in one movie. I'm just a person who holds contradictory beliefs and changes my mind frequently. I'm not ashamed of it. I'm being truthful and I'm willing to engage with people over a beer or over chicken wings or something but I'm absolutely not willing to engage online anymore.

Somebody has a stupid opinion? Great. There's no need for me to go in there in an underwear and a cape to argue with them. If I know them in the physical world, I can make fun of them in the physical world where they will probably admit they were being a jerk and take my ribbing for what it is: good-natured and not cruel.

I still have a Facebook because I like to keep up with people's lives and their art. I like to support people who are creating. I like to see pictures of my family and friends' kids and pets. But I don't have to see it all the time. I don't have to sift through brain-shit to get to the stuff that brings happiness. I only go on when I'm sitting at my computer. My mood has improved. I don't hate everyone. It feels great.

There are some real assholes out there and I'm not trying to say that they aren't dangerous. I'm just not willing to engage with every lie or insult out there anymore. We're all slinging feces at each other on every medium anyways. I'd like to limit my exposure to some of the shit slingers.

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New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest! Totally multiple podcasts edition!

Fear shall consume the planet and New Yorker cartoons is all we will have for humor. We will prefer fear!

"Of course you're offended."

"I hope that guy who eats the bus isn't on this one."

"I told him to wear a fucking seat belt."

So many cool things are happening. 

First! Trey Hudson and I have started a new weirdo-genre zine called the Cockroach Conservatory. Check it out right here.  If you're a writer - submit! 

We're also planning a 24 hour live telethon in the summer to raise money and awareness for our cause. Watch this website to get the skinny. 

Deerman is progressing chaotically and that's the way we like it! Meet the Deerdad in the latest episode! Consider donating via Patreon here or via Paypal here. Buy a shirt here!

Max Booth III and I started a new Podcast called The Taco Summit! Check it out here.

Holy God! More podcasts! The Book Boizzzzzzz interview Lucas Mangum. Check it out here. 

For here or to go?

A list of acceptable responses to the question, "For here or to go?" when at a coffee shop:

For here.

To go.

A list of unacceptable responses to the question:

I'll have it here but in a to go cup.

Is there a difference in the cups?

Do you have any cups made of fair trade oat hemp?

Are these cups bio-degradable if I stick them up my asshole for sexual pleasure?

Can I get it in a to go cup but can you put a thousand sleeves on them so that my precious little fingers don't feel any heat?

I'm going to get it in a to go cup but I'm going to come back for fifteen refills and will request a new to go cup every single time because a tree killed my family and I must avenge them.

I'm going to drink it in the parking lot.

I'm allergic to paper and ceramic; can I lap it out of your palms?

This is an inappropriate intrusion. I demand to see a manager.

I'm an Elite Yelper. Is everything free?

Hold on. I'm on the phone with a very important mom.

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Who Killed Andrew Hilbert?: A Look Back

Holy shit, folks.

I didn't even post to tell you about Who Killed Andrew Hilbert? a Radio drama.

Well, let me tell you about it now.

A little while back I heard Isaac Kirkman and Paul Garth were coming into town at the same time. Always wanting to insert myself into the lives of others, I offered to help organize a reading. As these things go, I procrastinated quite a bit until I was able to get my boss to give me the go ahead on having the reading at Radio.

Paul Garth ended up not being able to make it but we were able to get a pretty impressive list of readers.

Gabino Iglesias and Robert Dean are always down for a local reading so I invited them. J David Osborne and Rios de la Luz came in from El Paso. Isaac Kirkman came from Tucson, Arizona. Max Booth III came in from Cibolo, TX. Cheryl Couture came in from North Austin. Trey Hudson crawled out of his poetry trailer to grow a mustache and wear my clothes on stage.

It was a fun night.

Trey and I figured that readings by themselves are very boring. We didn't want any audience member to feel time pass too slowly. No matter how good writers are at reading their own work, if it goes on too long without any kind of break, people are going to get bored. We decided to frame the whole thing as a "murder mystery" and name the thing Who Killed Andrew Hilbert? to attract a crowd.

We didn't expect a crowd.

But the Austin Chronicle recommended the event.

The readers slated to perform were impressive.

Trey and I put up posters everywhere around town.

The place was packed on a Sunday night for a reading. It was great.

Anyways, most of the event was livestreamed so here it is.




There's a new Deerman up, too. Check it out here. 

Buy a shirt here.