This; And also that

I have seen you eat eggs, and it’s a fearsome sight.
If I was an egg, and you looked in the window, I would start to cry. I wouldn’t have any legs, so I’d just rock back and forth, thin tears tracing down the hard shell of my face.
Now maybe you’d surprise me and not eat me. Maybe you’d wipe off my shell and make me your pet.
But still, if you ever ate eggs in front of me, with a fork or something, that would gross me out. And I’d be like: “Dude, don’t eat eggs in front of your egg pet.”
And you’d say: “Don’t worry, I only eat dead eggs.”
Like that made it OK.

The absurdity of sports was really bothering him now.
The idea of rooting for this team or that team.
Some group of people wearing a costume
similar to a costume
he used to react favorably to
when he was young. Or at least younger.
Some subset of super-athletes whose contracts matched.
Whose agents got along.
“You might as well root for a cloud,”
he thought.
“Or for some portion of a cloud.”

He’s walking around
like he’s just eaten an orange.
Always.
This gives him strength.

My stomach doctor, who looks a lot like Elliott Gould — I mean, even more than I do.
Anyways. He’s someone you don’t want to startle you.
And he’s also. I mean.
For reasons I really don’t care to discuss.
Let’s just say.
He’s someone you don’t want to picture 15 feet tall.
Someone I don’t want to picture 15 feet tall.
Anyways, so I’m driving to work.
And there he was, by the freeway, as you get on the bridge. 15 feet tall.
And when I told him I saw him, the next time I saw him, he was so proud.
That I saw him.
Just picture Elliott Gould in a white doctor’s coat.
Proud.

Guest: Studies have shown that two-thirds of what people buy, they weren’t planning on buying when they walked into the store.
Host: So you’re saying, if I go into a store to buy a pair of socks, I’m going to walk out with three things I didn’t want?
And I screamed at the radio: “No! No that’s not what he was saying! You idiot! That would be 3/4s! Or, if you counted each sock individually, 3/5s!”
And I drove my car into a pole.

Please...
write what you know
but also:

    know something interesting.

They’re telling shapeless stories
at the open mic
reading from travel diaries
picking up where they left off last week
and Yaniv wants to shout:
“Get a blog!”

Like “stinky”
in MadLibs,
she always delivered.

To you
who live
in states
that vote
today
I say:
Happy voting!

only the vertical blink-blink on the horizon
gives any sign of
all these emails
passing
in the blink-blink
night.