Mike Young sometimes feels sexually inadequate while reading chapbooks

This is the first time that I am going to mention the subject of the blog title in my post. It is a little coincidental that I went out to breakfast with him this morning since I'm writing the blog titles in alphabetical order by first name.

But first something very important.

I am currently sitting in my new bean bag chair. I have wanted one for a long time but have never been able to find a store that sells them...

until now.

I like how I started a new paragraph to be ridiculously dramatic.

I just took off my hoodie and accidentally punched my LCD monitor.

I did not apologize to it like I have apologized to inanimate objects in the past. I apologized to them by mistake. I have been conditioned to apologize.

I like my new bean bag chair, although I wish it was larger so my legs were not resting on my mattress.

The store where I bought the bean bag chair had it in a kind of prison. It was like one of this big things where toy stores keep balls. It was difficult to get the bean bag chair out of the big thing. I had to sort of throw it over the big thing. I helped it escape. It headed into the direction of an old man. I felt a little worried. The old man caught it. The old man gave it to me.

One day I'll actually get this blog post started, but first:

Is there anything awesomer than taking a piss while a cat is sitting on the lid of the toilet tank?

I've gained like fifteen pounds since I started working at my gas station. I need a new job where I'm not surrounded by junk food.

I have decided against the idea of having a crime/noir theme for the next issue of Bust Down the Door and Eat All the Chickens.

Some guy says there is a one in five million chance that the world will end tomorrow.

Tonight, I will start a new story.

Fuck it. I am going to let this post die before it was born. Sorry, Mike Young.

But first: