1001 Ways to Embarrass Yourself While Avoiding Injuries

oh god, I thought to look at you your head was brown, eyes blue. your whiteness was the problem here it made me want to disappear. you were, Mein Gott, so good so right you even asked if you could take a bite so fragile so wondering and I understand if you don't want this again I'm haunted by the thought of you inside me outside is cold, you tried you put it inside my opening I like you I said you said I'm sorry I had a bad breakup it's - "NOT YOU!"I interrupt. I know where this is going! No no no you say not like that you hug me before you leave. wunderbar Wunderbar you are what a lovely lad come again please i'll open up and this time it'll be better, so fun so tight so wet so much to give Mein Gott oh oh OH!

Money is a many splendored thing. I spend time worrying about money like someone who cares about the planet spends time thinking about all the ways Mother Earth could combust or collapse from all the fucking terrible stuff we're pouring into her. I dream about money, all the ways I could spend it, the clink-clinking sound of coins dropping onto cold, hard marble-topped counters ringing in my ears. Man, nobody wants money like I do. I dream of holding it in my hand, the green dollar bills crisp and tight and smelling like Wall Street Greed, which to me, smelled like bagels and lox. It smelled like high-end sofas and shit like that. It's a pity when when Gordon Gekko said, '' Gimme guys who are poor, smart and hungry," he forgot the girls and he definitely forgot someone like me. I kept a copy of the Wall Street Journal under my pillow at night and I read it like the Bible. People around me always aspiring to be doctors to cure cancer, engineers and lawyers- sure,...

I'm so indescribably happy; it's as if someone has put me on the highest cloud and allowed me to glimpse upon humanity. Somehow, from up here, I can only feel tenderness for how frail and fragile we humans are, and ebullience at how perfect we are. How we can FEEL, and love and hurt and anger and sadden and then gladden our hearts again and again. I can feel the connection between my soul and whoever I am meant to meet, their happiness pumping vibrantly into my own bloodstream. How red and beautiful the union; and suddenly I am aware. Hyperaware of the world. I can almost see the light rays split into the spectrum, is he listening too? Can he hear my heart beating up-down-up-down like I can feel his? A breathtaking moment suspended in time and space, and all the anguish is gone. I love you, I whisper into the air, and I know the wind is carrying these soft words of love to his ears somewhere in the distance. The human heart has felt all this before, and still, every t...

" There is only the State. If you remember nothing else, remember that. The State, the State, the State." POLITICO revolves around two friends who grow up in the future, a dystopian totalitarian state called Malistan founded by General Kristang Malistan, who was Premier when the country was created in 2084. Malistan is officially ruled by the “Official Communist Party Of Former Independent Southeast Asian Republics”, known in short as “Stagov” or the “State Government”,  the only party allowed to exist and it has complete power. STAGOV consisted of 2 representatives from each former republic. It was made up of 5 ministries, Education, Welfare (religion, housing, healthcare, pleasure etc), Industry , Innovation and Bureaucracy. At the age of 18, the children will be given the chance to choose which industry they work in, and thus become a party member. If they choose not to become a party member, they will be forced to live on the outskirts of Malistan, amongst the 'ri...

New Girl This quote is actual goals. Nick is me.

The brilliant Margaret Cho For months now, years even, I'd been fantasising, like every other budding teenage novelist, of writing THAT article, THAT blogpost, so quirky, so authentically raw that I would soar out of the depths of being unknown to being the greatest individual to yield virtual pen over nonexistent paper. One could be forgiven for calling me out on my dreams to be a slightly less whinging, less millennial  Suzy Weiss . You'd probably be right! But it wasn't just words. I unashamedly admit, I wanted to be the next Mindy Kaling, the Malaysian-Indian Margaret Cho. The precocious teenager who questioned whether her identity should always be hyphenated, and thus alienated. The one who produced, at a startlingly fast pace, mini documentaries about poverty and socioeconomic justice to the background soundtrack of 'Talk Show Host' by Radiohead.  I longed to come up with brilliant ideas, quotes of the century or even, worse comes to worst...