—ALL I WANNA DO IS HAVE SOME FUN

 

…I know we already went over this, but I’m still stumped.

 

…I’m sorry for being so stupid. Sometimes I just like to stare at the clouds. I’m a dope.

 

…At least you know what you’re laughing at. 

 

…You’re one of the lucky ones.

 

…We can see everything, and yet it will never be enough.

 

…Why did I think I could do this again?

 

…Eeyore was always my favorite character. I felt like he had a lot more depth than we were privy to.

 

…“There was still something true about people, something that never seemed to change—they loved destruction." Scott McClanahan, Fights!

 

…“I've had a few men ask me personally or on their pages what they would like women to see men do or say in light of *waves hands wildly at all the misogyny and assault of late.* Speaking only for myself. 1. Call out that shit when you see it. Just make a post or a comment stating how gross you find it. Simple is better, to be honest. "I'm horrified by...." 2. Read feminist scholarship (hi, bell hooks,) or research statistics about things like the gender pay gap, how recently women were considered their male partner's property, and SA stats. 3. Learn to digest women's anger without taking it personally--we've had to do the same for men historically. 4. Understand that patriarchy harms men too, so you're also helping yourself by unlearning. 5. Remember it's never too late to start any of these.” Jordan Rosenfeld

 

…I thought the fight was over, but the fight is never over.

 

…At least I’m not the one locking doors.

 

…“I like to smoke cigarettes because it lets people know I’m into death.” Scott McClanahan, Fights!

 

…We’re still arguing about what makes something beautiful.

 

…When you ride with a friend, you stay with him.

 

…I didn’t realize you could that, that you could just say, No thanks.

 

…“If someone gave me Narcan and fucked up my high, I’d be so fucking pissed.” Scott McClanahan, Fights!

 

…Isn’t the point of life to help each other?

 

…All things are imaginary until you can touch them.

 

…It’s colder at night than I remember.

 

…“And love is like this:

Too much or too little.”

 --Chelsea Dingman, I, Divided

 

…You could listen to my heart if you want, and tell me how many screeches you hear.

 

…Don’t talk like that. You wouldn’t want someone talking to you that way.

 

…He’s your friend, not mine. Not mine by a long shot.

 

…What a silly thing to believe.

 

…“We need friends, Etna, the bird says. We need a pack.

Even if we lose our pack, I say.

Especially because of that, she says.”

-- Paul Yoon, Etna

 

…“I was aware, with a new intensity, of my loneliness.” Paul Yoon, Etna

 

…It never occurred to me that my mother could cry. In fact, I can’t remember ever seeing her do it.

 

…I am the worst small-talker in the world. When I do it—small talk—I feel sort of ridiculous, like there’s a judge or matriarch watching over me, giggling to themselves as I fumble for something relevant to say.

 

…If you’re ever lucky enough to have a best friend like I have, then you’re one lucky motherfucker.

 

…But anyway, let’s see what Scott has to say.

 

…“It’s crazy but people don’t like to buy books covered in dried blood.” Scott McClanahan, Fights!

 

…Who are you? What’s your name? 

 

…I have all these hideous, remarkable, unbelievable bits I was going to share about the last week and the monster, but I’m just going to pass. I’m not going to mention this (from WP) Trump: I ‘should have won’ Nobel Peace Prize, award is ‘forever discredited'

or this--Trump rips Zelensky amid Russia diesel deal feud: 'I suggest they get a new leader'

(because Zelensky is my hero) or this

Homeland Security Secretary Mullin says livestreaming Hasan execution aligns with Trump 'restoring American values'

or Russia strikes Ukrainian power plant after Trump claims energy ceasefire

or Trump calls Omar ‘totally crooked’ in first remarks on raid or 

Secret documents obtained by The Post reveal major donors behind $330 million for Trump’s ballroom Tech giants Nvidia and Apple each committed $25 million, the top contribution amount, the documents show. Absent from the list is President Donald Trump himself, who has said that he is helping to pay for the project.

…So, there--no political statements this Friday.

 

…What we know is what we know, and what we hold too tightly, is what we break.

 

…I’m not sure how I feel about Shane Gillis’s SNL monologue. Mostly I’m thinking, if you’re a comedian, isn’t anything fair game? If you censor comedians, then where does that end? If you don’t like it fine, but he’s a comedian who’s fallen on his face. Maybe that makes me a misogynist to say that, but shouldn’t comedy, like the arts, be left alone to speak for themselves?

 

…A lot of times the idea is better than the actual act. But not always. Thus, the conundrum. 

 

…And here I’m telling you the truth.

 

…“In the end, you do what the voice tells you.

It says forget, you forget.

It says begin again, you begin again.”

  --Louise Gluck

 

…In haste, and because I really disliked that person, I said probably some things I shouldn’t have.

 

…“He was embarrassed. It was his default line; it came out of his mouth when he wanted to say other things to her.”

  --Lily King, Five Tuesdays in Winter

 

…That last drink might be the first. You never know.

 

…It’s a terrible time for books, but in one of the brightest moments of this trip, a couple sat down next to me with their two young children and both of them had books (!) instead of Gameboys or iPads with them, and the boy would jab his sister and read something from his book to her and she’d jab his shoulder and read something to him. It was glorious.

 

…I know you’re thinking about me, just as I am thinking about you.

 

…The question is always: What makes your heart sing? 

 

..“Is this talking? Because it feels like you’re telling me what I should remember.”

  --Lily King, Five Tuesdays in Winter

 

…Some people are rougher than others.

 

…When I die, please remember me.

…“Be careful what you say here. People might think you’re serious.”

 

…I am.

 

…I looking under my fingernails for signs that might mean something…

 

...I have a happy story to end things on. It’s long. But it’s worth the read…

 

He lost everything. Then he found riches in a dumpster.

By Danielle Paquet, WP

For Carter Stevens, the American Dream is built on reinvention. But can his next act help him escape the cockroaches?

 

NASHVILLE — Behind a luxury high-rise, Carter Stevens inspected his favorite dumpster.

Dresses on plastic hangers dangled over its rusty edge. A 65-inch flat-screen television jutted through cardboard boxes. A marble side table, wedged between trash bags, gleamed under the lunchtime sun.

“Jackpot,” the 31-year-old muttered.

Sweating in the 95-degree heat, Carter tied his curly black hair into a bun and strode up to the steel bin the size of a U-Haul truck, ignoring the sticker that read “KEEP OFF!” He stepped onto a support rail and rose to his tiptoes, scanning inside for cockroaches. Nothing rustled.

“Easy does it,” he said, hoisting himself into the garbage.

Carter abhorred insects and was allergic to cat dander, but rummaging through dumpsters, he’d found a Gucci bag. BAPE sneakers. A Louis Vuitton button-up. “All the stuff we use to fill the void,” he said.

Overconsumption had nearly ruined him before he learned how to exploit it. In two years, he’d gone from homeless and in debt to earning six figures from selling what others threw away.

Americans buy and discard more stuff than anyone else, and in Tennessee’s booming capital — the Music City, the bachelorette destination, the influencer hub of the South — junk struck Carter as astonishingly valuable. People came here chasing stardom or a fresh identity; 86 new residents arrived each day, per the local government’s last count. Carter imagined some crash-landed, like he had, leaving wreckage for him to sift through when Everything Must Go. Or they acquired upgrades they associated with success, shedding whatever hadn’t satisfied them.

Carter had salvaged stuff in unopened boxes. Stuff that he’d seen models praise on TikTok. Stuff that reminded him of what he’d once maxed out his credit cards to wear. Stuff that he’d had to offload, quickly, when he couldn’t cover the rent for his three-bedroom house in the summer of 2024 and moved into a $30-per-day Zipcar.

“Still has the tag on it,” he said, yanking a lacy white Simply Southern frock from the heap. Someone had spent $59.99 on what he called a “grandma dress” before chucking it unworn. Carter popped the trunk of his cherry red Lexus ES and tossed it in.

“Might be worth something,” he said.

Probably not enough for him to risk a bug crawling up his pantleg. Yet it could help fund his next venture, one Carter hoped would set up the rest of his life.

Damp and itchy and distressingly close to what smelled like spoiled yogurt, he tried to apply that optimism to his own recovery. If Carter could repurpose rubbish, he figured, maybe he could repurpose himself.

THE LONGING THAT GOT HIM into this mess started with light-up sneakers. As a first-grader, Carter ached for a pair, but his parents didn’t cave. They taught him to work for what he wanted.

His father was a successful music producer, so Carter grew up around wealth, which intensified his fixation on flashy shoes and Ed Hardy rhinestone shirts and souped-up Mustangs. Sophomore year, he applied for a job at McDonald’s and began saving for what he coveted. “Nice sh--,” Carter said.

The appetite for more and better was baked into American culture long before he was born. Spending was patriotic in the nation that invented mass marketing. Spending kept the factories running. Spending became so excessive, the historian who coined the term “American dream” advised his countrymen in 1931 not to mistake prosperity for “material plenty.” But over the last century, federal statistics show, the amount of clothes and shoes that Americans scrapped each year shot up almost tenfold.

Carter found a silk Christian Dior windbreaker at Goodwill for $1 in 2018, shortly after he’d dropped out of college. He’d never felt comfortable in a classroom, but for much of the next six years, he excelled at sourcing vintage pieces from donation bins and estate sales for a second-hand market near Vanderbilt University. “I made it,” he thought when a friend told him the young woman browsing his clothing racks was country star Kacey Musgraves.

Carter could have stashed away money. “But I screwed myself,” he said. First, he started taking too much Adderall. Then too many other drugs. In 2021, he spent a week in rehab and eased off the narcotics. But Carter still struggled with his addiction to spending.

He bought Christian Dior Birkenstocks for $1,200. A camping van for $10,000. A Mercedes-AMG that cost $3,100 monthly, including insurance. “I just woke up itching for stuff,” he recalled. His monthly outflow, at its highest, surpassed $15,000.

When the celebrity interest moved on and business dwindled and Carter owed more than he was making, he slept in his storage unit until an attendant warned he’d get kicked out. Crashing with his parents hadn’t worked, either. They’d argued. He’d wanted to be alone.

Cramped in a Nissan Sentra for three weeks, Carter vowed to control his cravings.

A cousin loaned him cash to get into a one-bedroom apartment, and he hawked just enough shirts to cover the $1,000 monthly rent. His rebound started one November afternoon last year, when, emerging from Goodwill, Carter noticed men behind the warehouse next door plopping dozens of office chairs next to a dumpster.

“Those are trash?” he’d walked over to ask. Yes, replied one man, who introduced himself as a trucker for a moving company. And more were coming, he said, thanks to a corporate office shuttering.

Carter crouched over the swivel seats and Googled the brand. Steelcase. They were going for hundreds of dollars each online.

He returned with a trailer and grabbed 190 chairs. All but 40 sold in six weeks to liquidators he’d emailed. The $17,000 profit allowed Carter to pay off his credit cards and pay back his cousin.

His foraging expanded to other warehouses, hotels, apartment buildings and the mall. Eager for leads on personal clutter, too, he printed lawn signs: “JUNK AWAY JUNK REMOVAL. TEXT OR CALL.” retrieved couches, standing desks, industrial lamps and iPads. After six weeks, his eBay sales hit $30,000. Once, a security guard confronted him with a gun drawn. Mostly, though, nobody seemed to care.

Carter wondered what his parents would think. They’d refused to lend him money when he’d felt most vulnerable, and for two weeks, he’d been too angry to speak to them.

Still, he wanted to make them proud.

“I’m providing a service,” he told them.

--ROCKABYE                     

 

                               A Passing Grade

 

       Her father taught her how to steal.

       She caught him one time filching a pack of Camel cigarettes at a convenience store.  In the car, the crinkling wrapper made her flesh pucker.  The smoke looked like smoggy cotton candy shapeshifting into a grainy, gray dragon.  “Want a puff?” he asked.  

       He was a policeman, rather, a detective.  The big difference, he’d told her, was that detectives used clues to fetter out what no one else could see.  He tapped the side of his forehead when he said this, winking at her.

       They lived in a large house in the Hollywood hills.  They had a swimming pool and sauna.  Their drapes opened and shut electrically.

       His cop buddies came over to drink beer and play poker.  He bought exotic sports cars with Italian names.  Policemen seemed to make more than CEOs.

       When Clinton was impeached, her father said, “Hang the bastard.”

       In order to house all of his automobiles, her father added a fourth and fifth garage.  He never actually drove them.  Instead, the vehicles sat there, cloth-covered like dinosaurs in body bags. 

       In college, she struggled with a certain class, the subject keeping her from a four point GPA.  She scoped out the smartest boy—Elliot, the one who sat beside her in the next aisle.  Weeks before the final, she let him buy her coffee, let him walk her back to the dorm, let her inside, let her inside again.

       When she gave her speech at graduation she looked out into the audience, past the capped students to the back rows.  Her father was there somewhere.  Though she couldn’t see him, she knew he was grinning, so full of pride. 

—IT’S HARD TO STAY COOL

 

                          A Lover of Beautiful Things

 

         I was spooked.  He’d been following me for the last two hours, through both levels of the mall, the food court, waiting outside of Macys with a magazine curled in his palm like a baton or a sledgehammer.

         I admit I led him on a bit.  At Victoria’s Secret I paused, feigning a do-check in front of the display window that featured a trio of mannequins whose cleavage, G-strings, and vapid, heroin stares were impossible not to envy.  I flipped my hair and reapplied some lip gloss.  He was twenty feet behind me.  Still, I caught his reflection in the glass and glare.  He might not even have noticed my little maneuver, yet it seemed as if he did.  In fact it seemed as if I was the reason he existed.

I had very little money.  However, I bought a pair or cheetah-print thong panties that were half-off.  I wanted to be carrying the Vickie Secret bag through the rest of my excursion, and I wanted him to be wondering about the contents.  I even asked for a larger sack than was necessary.

I was ill-prepared when he came running up to the car.  I mean, I hadn’t expected that at all.  Part of me thought I’d imagined the whole surveillance thing.

But no, he came at me like an assailant with marching orders.

I reached for pepper spray I didn’t have.  I cupped a car key between my fingers, ready to gouge his eye out.

He was panting.  And cute--in a sweaty, mocha-skinned hirsute way.

He said he was a photographer.  I said, “Sure you are.”  He said, “No, really.”  He told me I could be a model, said that I had the look they were after.  I got smart-ass on him, said, “Who’s they?”  

He gave me the card I still have to this day.

He said, “Call me.  Check out my website, I’m legit.”

All those girls on his site were something, so exotic or pale, most with stunned expressions not dissimilar from the Vickie Secret mannequins.

Could I help myself from wanting to be featured like those others?  Of course not.

My mother wanted to go with me to Raul’s studio.  (Raul was his name.)  I told her what she knew already, that I wasn’t six years old anymore.  I was that plus ten, sixteen.

“Call me when you get there,” she said, making me pinkie-promise, which I hated.

I surprised myself.  After a couple of minutes I lost all inhibition.  I was naked before I knew it.  He said he’d pay me, but I just laughed.  He took stills and video.  I’ve been back a few times, whenever I need a confidence boost.  I know now that those girls on his site are just stock photos from someplace else.  But it doesn’t matter.

He tells me he’s a lover of beautiful things.  He’s never actually said that I’m beautiful, but that doesn’t matter either.

 

—YOU SAY I’M GOOD AS DEAD IF I KEEP IT UP MUCH LONGER 

 

…“Watching songs you think are the best you have ever written get released and do absolutely nothing is hard.” Julian Bunetta

…But, really, what do I have to bitch about?

…Poem found in a laundromat

 

This poem was found written on a paper bag by Richard Brautigan in a laundromat in San Francisco. The author is unknown.

 

By accident, you put

Your money in my 

Machine (#4)

By accident, I put

My money in another

Machine (#6)

On purpose, I put 

Your clothes in the

Empty machine full

Of water and no

Clothes

 

It was lonely

 

 

…Fucking, Karen. I miss you.

 

…Here’s the way I look at it: If there really is a God (and I believe there is), just say what you want to say, swear if you want to swear, because he/she will know if you’re holding back for their sake. God knows everything, even what you’re thinking but haven’t acted upon.

  

…Most of the time, we’re just preaching to ourselves, to the same old choir.

 

…You can write back or not—that’s not even the point.

 

…I don’t believe in karma.

 

…I think I’m supposed to be sixty-six.

 

…You say I’m giving up too much, taking too many chances.

 

…Even your best friend is going to betray you once in a while. It’s inevitable, I guess. So, if they’re really your best friend, you give them a pass and hope it doesn’t happen again.

 

…What are memories for, if not that?

 

…I need a new song.

 

…What I’m never going to run out of, ever, is photos to post here, unless this site won’t let me post them. (I have thousands and thousands.)

 

…Betrayal might be too harsh a word, but still…

 

…“There’s a dream I have in which I love the world.” Cameron Awkward-Rich

…I wonder if anyone worries more than me. I’m guessing, No.

 

…I don’t ever remembering worrying about a thing, other than money, when I was a kid or teenager.  And even when I had none, other than a quarter in my pocket, I somehow found enough to buy beers at The Coug.

 

…I may be too sensitive. Yeah, I know I am.

 

…Did we ever talk about sleep when we were young, like ask some other teenager, “How’d you sleep last night?” I don’t recall that ever being something asked.

 

…And I could stand here waiting, fool for another day.

 

…Something I have never said is, “Pretty fly for a white guy.” But Mac can somehow get away with it. 

 

…“I’m afraid to write. It’s so dangerous. Anyone who’s tried it, knows.” Clarice Lispector

 

…I’m not always going to be amusing, entertaining or articulate here, but I’m always going to be honest.

 

…Why would anyone pay to enter a contest when you’re competing with 8,745 other people? And why, if you’re a different publisher with a different contest, would you brag about We received 1374 poems  getting that many entries thus far, while asking others to enter in?

 

…Everyone wants peace, but no one wants to surrender.

 

…Wow, what a life.

 

…It’s a little too easy to hold a grudge.

 

…Canadians are the best. If everyone was Canadian, the world would be a better place.

 

…"There's no real alternative: either you grow old and accept the process with dignity, or you die. Looking at it that way, I'd much rather grow old. Growing old means you're fortunate enough to still be alive and have a future.. Besides, maturity brings with it a wonderful gift: detachment. Sometimes, as you get older, you stop being just an actress and become a spectator of the world, which makes you see everything from a different perspective." Monica Bellucci

…The announced The Nobel Prize for literature the other day—poet and essayist Anne Carson, an apt pick.

Of the 122 winners of the award since its inception, 19 have been women.

 

…Always cautious around the corners.  Always feeling like a foreigner, knocking on the closed door.

 

…It was a disgrace to see and listen to Netanyahu speak at the U.N. last week. Two of my very best friends are Jewish. I honestly don’t care what a person believes, or identifies as. Netanyahu can throw “antisemitic” around all he wants, but it’s simply lazy camouflage for his ongoing ethnic cleansing. How can you just bomb schools, with kids in them, and hospitals, with wounded people in them, and then sleep at night? How can anyone do that unless they’re inherently evil?

 

…It was hard not to be very political on here today but every day it is baffling to see what the monster and the minions in his administration do, such as RFK Jr. deciding to use federal funds to study vaccine injuries while repudiating vaccines that literally save thousands of lives each year. Or yesterday’s announcement by the White Supremist Hegseth that they are going to live stream the execution of a convicted military killer. WTF? How barbaric can we be? This is like when they used to hang people in the public square and invited the whole town to come out and bring their kids with, or no different than what ISIS does.

 

…Seriously, what kind of person, other than a fourth-grader, talks like this? Certainly not the President of the United States:

Trump hurls anti-trans slurs at Graham’s opponent as South Carolina race tightens President Trump on Monday used an anti-transgender slur several times against Sen. Darline Graham’s (R-S.C.) Democratic opponent Dr. Annie Andrews, as the race for the Senate seat tightens.   “Annie ‘T——‘ Andrews is running against our wonderful Darline Graham for the Senate in South Carolina,” Trump wrote on Truth Social.

 

…Come on. Whatttt????

Trump Says He Feels ‘Badly’ for Cornell 7, Claims They ‘Won’t Get a Fair Shake’ from His Nemesis Letitia James

 

 

…Who in the fuck does this?

Trump posts GOP senator’s cell phone number on social media over daylight savings act stall

 

 

…Or threatens this?

Trump not ruling out invoking Insurrection Act around midterms

President Trump said in an interview published Thursday that he has not ruled out invoking the Insurrection Act or declaring a national emergency around the midterm elections in November.

 

…Or says this?

Trump says Iran could ‘take’ San Diego, Los Angeles; draws cross-party ire

Both Democrats and Republicans have expressed outrage at Trump’s remarks, as the White House disputed their

 

 

“It’s a small price to pay for keeping the world safe, keeping our country safe,” Trump said, seemingly in reference to the knock-on effects of the war, including rising fuel and fertiliser prices.

Then, he said: “They can take out a city. Let them take out Los Angeles. Let them take out San Diego. This is a very small price to pay, and it’s going to be over with very soon.”

…Is this not completely deranged?

Trump calls for media outlets to be ‘arrested’ over rally coverage President Trump said Monday that reporters from The New York Times and other media outlets should be “arrested” over their coverage of his Saturday rally in Ohio.

 

 

…Eventually, I have to learn to be more circumspect. 

 

…“We’re all just walking each other home.” Ram Dass

 

…And you’re looking at me with one of those sideways glances.

 

…Some days are like rolling a brick down the road while others are like bouncing on a trampoline.

 

…“I’m not the same person I used to be, but at the same time, I’m not a different person, either. It’s hard to explain.” Haruki Murakami 

 

…A silhouette doesn’t lie.

 

…Sometimes it seems like even the deer are complicit.

 

…“Tell me that the world is on the verge of ending and I’ll believe you.” Sara Henning

 

…You say I’m giving up too much. I’m taking too many chances.

 

… What if losing everything isn't the end of the story? What if it's the entrance fee?

 

…We’re all soldiers in the same war, hoping to just get home alive.

 

…“The best way for us to cultivate fearlessness in our daughters and other young women is by example.” Gloria Steinem.

 

…Is it tomorrow yet?

 

…I’m not sure about people who say “freaking” instead of “fucking,” which is what they really mean. 

 

…“Never, never give up. And remember to dance a little.” Gloria Steinem

 

...I don’t want to think too much right now.

 

…“One’s ignorance is one’s chief asset.” Wallace Stevens

…Maybe we’ve finally run out of goodbyes.

 

…“Here’s a truck stop instead of St. Peter’s.” R.E.M.

 

--If you’re the angel of death, I’m ready.

--No, I’m not the angel of death.

--Well then, you could use a breath mint.

 

…“I always said I’d never write a memoir, but I also said I would never collaborate on a novel with anybody and then I collaborated with Reese Witherspoon. Maybe saying never is a good challenge to myself.” Harlan Coben

 

…What if I didn’t peel the wrapper all the way off? Does anyone peel the wrapper all the way off?

 

…Good Lord, it’s not even 6 am and you’re still babbling?

 

…“Any one earthworm seems not to matter, yet the existence of earthworms matter.” Jane Hirshfield

 

…I know why people fall into that cycle and can’t get out of it. I’d tell you how I know it, but you might be afraid. 

 

…I’m not the martyr here. I played that game out a long time ago.

 

…“The other thing was, I’d really like to see people create more. I hope this is a motivational tool for anyone who wants to put more art in their world.” Harlan Coben

 

…Who knew I’d be listening to Neil Diamond this time of night? But, God, I’m glad I am.

 

…Maybe I’ll read the whole dozen back tomorrow and they’ll just be shit.

 

…“If there were no poetry on any day, poetry would be invented that day.” Muriel Rukeyser 

 

…Oh, I see it now, why that was the problem all along.

 

…I know I’m needy, but it’s really hard when you’re not there.

 

…“Some of us have our gifts. We don’t write the same anymore. I think there’s a general need for people to just down and sit through every hurt they’ve had. And just let it wash over so that you can finally sit down and grieve, and then make some real shit in the world.” Phillip B. Willams

 

…The problem is I like that song too much and I don’t want to stop playing it.

 

…If you’re the neediest person in the world, does that also mean you’re the loneliest? (Asking for a friend.)

 

…“A recent study found that just having one meaningful conversation with a friend each day can boost happiness. lower stress, and reduce  feelings of loneliness. 

Connection is essential for health.” Mark Hyman, M.D.