Happy World AIDS Day, everyone! Yes, today is the day when we all join hands 'round the globe to celebrate the blessing that is AIDS. Thank you, God! Thank you, clandestine government experimentation! Without you, this great day would not be possible. (more...)

I promise the next update will be an actual article. In the meantime, enjoy "A Masochist's Wet Dream, No. 1"! Starring your friend and mine, the Chatterer.

HELL YEAH! Final count: 50, 463 words.

And now, a quick summary of the very weird mess that is The Absolute Strangest Christmas Story Ever Told: The novel starts off with child vampire blood-drinker alone in his room, recording his incredulous thoughts about the existence of vampires and, finally, for similar reasons, Santa Claus. Meanwhile, a family of werewolves sits gathered around a television, watching a Christmas special about a monster known as Santa Corpse. Eventually, we join Santa Claus on his rounds and, per a strange letter that he received, written in wet diarrhea and scrawled on a wad of used toilet paper, we follow Saint Nicholas into the sewer as he seeks the author of this note. Along the way, Kris Kringle encounters a pair of giant wharf rats clad in black leather jackets. Of course, the novel is fraught with digressions and tangents and the like, many of which contain some interesting and insightful words, but most of which are evidence of the fact that Wes has gone completely and totally batshit insane.

Thank you and goodnight.

eating Thanksgiving leftovers in the middle of the night kicks ass.

<Wes> so I just dreamed htat I went to the supermarket
<Wes> and I woke up and was like, "Damn! I should've gotten that juice!"
<Wes> AS IF I WOULD'VE BEEN ABLE TO TAKE IT WITH ME
<Wes> it was called "moo" juice
<Wes> and was supposedly pony flavored
<Wes> what the hell does pony taste like, you ask?
<Wes> now I'll never know.