In my life I haven’t done anything worth writing about, but that’s OK. That’s why I write fiction.

“My asshole smells like burnt firewood, and I’ve got firemen calling me. But I w…”

“I made out like a bandit. Not that I’ve ever made out with a bandit.”

“You don’t need to windup the wind to keep it going. It’s the same with my erect…”

“Weeping willows remind me of summer. And sadness. I wonder if tissues are made …”