I would like to see my fellow LGB folk not split hairs over political correctness in the US, rather focusing their energy and attention on extremely serious day-to-day human rights violations across the world.
I think I’m going to hire a Mexican mariachi band to perform every time I get an erection.
Some musicians approach their work a bit like design. Rather than taking risks with their sound, they consistently try to create something that is widely accessible and enjoyable.
I think this is totally fine. It’s not how I do things, but I’m glad that some do.
Modern mainstream feminism seems to have adopted cloying self-indulgence and arrogance as its tent-pole fetishes.
I do think it’s interesting how many glitchy popish albums featuring saxes as a center piece have come out since Claye’s release over two years ago. Not that I’m saying anybody copied it or anything (who the fuck even knows that Claye exists, am I right?) but it is interesting.
One day, I would like to hire a kids’ birthday party performer in a rabbit suite. I’d have him at my apartment for an hour—just him and me—and I’d ask him questions.
If I was the creator of humanity, I would have made anuses self-lubricating.
Elderly men. Wearing sweaters. Eating corn.
Before you ask me about my torso, how many of these otters do you think I can smuggle underneath my shirt?
One day, I’d like to reposition a manikin so that it looks like it’s a streetlight. And then I’m going to take its hooves and wear them to bed.
Midnight Ransom calling
We’d like to borrow your torso again
Babies are like a deck of playing cards. You’re supposed to carry them everywhere you go but you always end up dropping them in the street and losing them.