Octopus On - a free book

Hi y'alls.

So I have put a collection of prose writing and etc. together into one place and called it a book.

I've also called it Octopus On and you can download it for free here - OCTOPUS ON.

They range from a page to a bunch, and from hilarious to not so hilarious.

I've printed a few copies, but they are a pain in the sittin' muscle to make. If people end up liking it enough, maybe I will work with a print shop and get a few pressed.

Until then, if you want a physical copy, you can trade me for something special.

Bartering for a diy book - I feel like such a hippie.

A hippie with a book.

I hate hippies.

This is heading south fast, so just download the book and read it during the summer.

Read it in pieces, read it in pajamas.

Stay tuned - I'm in talks with someone awesome to do layout on the Newt Jersey book, and I have a few leads on some fantastically talented print gurus.

In the meantime, I'm moving home. To good old Browns Mills.

I'm cooking hot dogs every morning, and eggs every night.

You're invited.

Bryan

Baby Sloth

He spent the entire day looking at videos of baby sloths. Well, maybe not the entire day because there are only so many baby sloth videos on YouTube, and other websites that specialize in cute baby animal content. But it was at least three hours. By the end of the afternoon his back had a crook and his eyes were bleary and his hand felt like it was greasy from the plastic of the mouse for some reason.
He stretched, and opened the shades to let in the last bit of daylight. It was orange, and made him realize how dusty the room was. Little particles floated in the strips of light, and into his nose. He felt like sneezing but didn’t.
He felt like eating, but didn’t.
He felt like sleeping, but didn’t.
He felt like maybe throwing on a movie but his eyes hurt.
He felt like playing some music, but his hands felt greasy.
So he laid down on the floor and looked up. The ceiling fan spun consistently. He found that if he followed it with his eyes, in a quick tight circle, it seemed like it would spin slower. His eyes grew wide. His arms began to move slowly, to grope at the air between him and the fan. His feet came up off the carpet, as his legs kicked upward like he was riding a really rusty bike.
His rocked gently, back and forth on the carpet, and everything fell into place. He was a baby sloth, and everything in the world moving around him was not a baby sloth. His eyes bulged, and his limbs moved slowly through space.
His wife came home later that night. She sat on the couch, watching him. She wondered why he’s got everything figured out, and she still has no idea what to do with her life.
She watched the dust bits drift in the lap light, and cried into her jacket.