The Morning Of February 26, 2011

I awaken—gently, like a newborn bird—on the floor of my kitchen. My face is full of stories.

“Last night you asked a girl if she wanted to take the J train to aw hell I’m bad at metaphors can we just intercourse each other for like six minutes,” say my eyes, “and she threw Cholula hot sauce in me.”

“I think we ate a couple of squirrel tails,” my mouth says. “There’s no other explanation for the taste and texture of what’s going on in here right now.”

“I wish I was dead,” my nose says.

I heave myself up and discover my abandoned efforts to make a sandwich out of mayonnaise and a potato. I retrieve my boxer briefs from the dishwasher. I feel like my mortal soul has set itself aflame and exited roughly through my anus, but it is Saturday, I am alive, there is pornography in the world, and I could, if I wanted, listen to Destiny’s Child all day while staring into the middle distance.

» Rating: FOUR SEXY LADIES