I think my subconscious fears and my budding sexuality are getting all mixed up… So I think I’m being attacked by zombies and I start screaming, ‘Do you want to make out?’
“While the nation’s poets have been quick to emphasize the birch limb, sheathed in ice, their faith unbroken their petaled lies untold, a vast majority told reporters that ‘Womb womb womb, womb womb...”
“At one point he wandered over to the next table to give a back massage to his friend, author and Daily Show correspondent John Hodgman, who was dining with indie rockers Aimee Mann and John Roderick....”