It’s a Xerox of a Xerox all the way down.

Tell you ‘bout Maynard Cherry, my neighbor what shovels slop.

A psychic on the television closes her ad with a sequence of numbers.

For sale: butt plug, never used.

I have a secret, but you’ll never know what it is.

In third grade, I was getting into too many fights and was made to spend recess in the library. I never came out.

For a few hours I obsessed over this theory that the cartridges were buried in a landfill in Alamogordo.

I was feeling so sorry for myself because of the way that I felt. Awful.

Art is useless, but it is an indispensable uselessness.