savage youth

Day One Hundred and Four

-I witnessed a young girl in a tiara being pushed around the store, the soundtrack to Moana being blasted from an indeterminate location. She has figured it out. She is living the true Disney princess life.

-Two squabbling toddlers came through my lane. As expected, stickers soothed the savage youth instantaneously, turning them into pinnacles of behavior. I am convinced that I have been unwittingly brought into a Snickers commercial as the Supplier.

-A man zoomed past my lane, hustling and hobbling on his way towards the bathroom, his eyes darting all around, his hands clutching a hidden object beneath his shirt. I am grateful for the shoplifters who opt to take it easy on me. It is far too early for me to be at the top of my game, and I appreciate the handicap. 

-A boy chanted, “Circle paint. Circle paint. Circle paint.” He grasped a wooden circle and a bottle of paint. I suspect that he intends to coat the circle with the paint. Only time will tell.

-Moments after being berated and ridiculed by a pair of elderly women, I was visited by a pair of puckish toddlers. Somehow sensing how crestfallen I had become, they stepped up their antics, making the most absurd facial expressions and noises in a heartfelt attempt to cheer me up. I am pleased to say that their endeavors were a positive success.

-I passed by a mother sternly explaining to her two year-old son that, were he to smack my manager, he would be sent directly to jail. I am not sure what he could have done to warrant such a warning, but this child does not seem too likely to heed it.

-A woman asked if we carried shoes. I told her that we did. She asked me where they were. I gave her detailed directions. She continued with her purchase. I asked her if she would like to go back to look. She told me that she was not interested in shoes. I do not know what I was thinking to presume as much of her.

-While attending to urgent corporate business, I found a comic book pamphlet entitled, “TITANIC” sitting on the toilet paper dispenser. Upon further inspection, I have found that it is a Christian story of how the Titanic hit the iceberg due to one man saying that he hated Jesus. This is not the first piece of religious literature, or religerature, that I have found in this stall, and I cross my fingers that it will not be the last.

-A woman asked if the shirts that she had just purchased had pockets. After I confirmed that they did not, she explained that she was worried as my shirt did. The shirt that I was wearing was by no means the same style, type, or brand, and had come from a different store, but I am a firm believer that it is always better to be safe than sorry when it comes to pockets.

Just started watching Digimon for the first time recently, and my partner requested that I draw our Current Favorite Kids, AKA “Precious Perfect Final Fantasy Princess” and “Stressed Sassy Responsible Child”. You can’t make me choose between them, I refuse.

Hmm… But are either of these the “““correct”““ Favorite Kid? Has the fandom already declared some other kid is the Best Kid? Am I doing Digimon wrong?

Well, whatever. I don’t care. These kids are the best kids, in my heart.

Now someone please give these poor ten-year-olds some food and beds, oh my god


This is the best fucking thing I’ve seen all week. The Nashville crowd is savage.


My favourite albums of 2015:

Björk - Vulnicura
Waxahatchee - Ivy Tripp
Lower Dens - Escape From Evil
Beach House - Depression Cherry
Braids - Deep in the Iris
Lana del Rey - Honeymoon
Nicole Dollanganger - Natural Born Losers
Yumi Zouma - EP II
Sunflower Bean - Show Me Your Seven Secrets
Purity Ring - Another Eternity
Earl Sweatshirt - I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside
Grimes - Art Angels
Camila Moreno - Mala Madre
Marina and The Diamonds - FROOT
Made In Heights - Without My Enemy What Would I Do
A$AP Rocky - At.Long.Last.A$AP
Beach House - Thank Your Lucky Stars
Empress Of - Me
Youth Lagoon - Savage Hills Ballroom
Melanie Martinez - Cry Baby
Chastity Belt - Time To Go Home
Lapsley - Understudy
Tei Shi - Verde
Julieta Venegas - Algo Sucede
Drake - If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late
The Internet - Ego Death
Tame Impala - Currents

I also made a spotify list with my favourite songs:


Thankee-sai. I love you, too. My blessings, boys. 
Steven said this last in a loud voice, and the other two men – Robert Allgood and Christopher Johns, who had been known in the days of his savage youth as Burning Chris – added their own blessings.

San Francisco Gothic

You scrub at the mold. You scrub until the paint starts to wear. There is more mold under the paint. Your sinuses fill and blood pours out of your nose. No, it’s not blood. It’s mold. Your sponge is mold. 

A man is telling you about an app. “It’s tinder,” he is saying, “but for mismatched mid century modern furniture. It’s VC backed.” Is the man oddly square-ish in the shoulders? No, he is square-ish all over, because you are talking to an app. You absently realize that it cannot love. 

The french woman next door is washing her minivan in her driveway. You think about the water as you watch her. There will be no more water in a year, they say. She turns around to face you, the hose gushing indifferently into the street. “The tech people gentrified San Francisco,” she tells you. 

There is a letter tacked to the door of your apartment. It says only: “San Francisco is in a boom.” It is from your landlord. 

You read a book on the 71. You look up, and realize that everyone else on the bus is looking at a cartoonish map of your city. You quickly go back to your book. “How do you get to Golden Gate Park?” one of them asks. You don’t know if they’re talking to you, so you pretend to keep reading. “How do I get to the bridge?” They’re all looking at you, now. “Where are we on this map? Where are we? Where is the bridge?”

You are talking to a man at a bar. “I am moving to Brooklyn,” the man says. He leaves the bar. As you wait to order another drink, you can’t help overhearing the conversation next to you. “I am moving to Brooklyn,” a woman tells the bartender. She signs her credit card slip and leaves. You look around as one by one, the bar empties out. They are moving to Brooklyn. They’re all moving to Brooklyn. 

On your way home, you stop for a bite to eat. When the check arrives, the waitress informs you that this establishment does not accept credit cards. You walk to the corner to the ATM. There is a handwritten sign taped to the ATM that says “CASH ONLY.” 

An officer savagely tackles a homeless youth and kneels on his back while a nearby dog barks incessantly and strains against its lead. The man standing next to you says “That kid is a loser with a trust fund. They only come here because San Francisco babies them.” The man talking is 32. He is still a libertarian. “GET A JOB,” he yells, not looking up from his phone.  

The artists of Hell
set up easels in parks
the terrible landscape,
where citizens find anxious pleasure
preyed upon by savage bands of youths

I can’t believe this is happening
I can’t believe all these people
are sniffing each other
& backing away
teeth grinning
hair raised, growling, here in
the slaughtered wind

I am ghost killer.
witnessing to all
my blessed sanction

This is it
no more fun
the death of all joy
has come.