...so did the cookies. They were delicous in that something-went-wrong kind of way. The ice on my burnt tongue melted like my face does during a July baseball game."

Or exhausting. Or tiring. Or energizing. Can you be so tired you’re awake? Chocolate chip cookie bathrobe. A boy dog named Sue. Fake fireplace. Real life.

Around I went with two crayons. Two turkeys emerged. They formed a band. The Magic Markers.

His mom was a doll. His dad was a clown. ”Boo” was his first word.

I'm a pig pen who was left behind at a fancy hotel. I'm trying to go unoticed so that I can stick around. I'm learning to swim.

"You will receive a fortune cookie that sparks an intense-yet-zen passion for recyling paper. Origami swans become your thing. You'll suffer many a paper cut, but won't care. You and happiness and the swans and the paper forge a lifelong friendship."

Dear VSWWM: What did I do? What did you do? Are you a Villainous Scumbag or a Human Scumbag or a Human? I love you back.

I'm holdin' out for a peanut butter, banana, and bacon sandwich with Elvis. To go.

Bee hearts tree. Sittin' in one. Honey. Syrup. Love. Is a tree a flower? Could it be?

Somewhere else. Awake. Morally confusing nap. Gives me wings. They wilt. Red Bull? Nap? Another?