twohundredandtwentyfive.

"not as brilliant as i'd hoped"

the combined works de moi
as reviewed by the 'new yorker' as if that were a real publication

NY: 'your work is trite and wrought with spelling errors'
ME: 'your publication is shite with un-funny as it were comics'
NY: 'sorry you feel that way, but sorry it also doesn't make us change our mind'
ME: 'is there anything i can do to make you...change?'
NY: 'do you have any weed?'
ME: 'no i quit. i had to go to rehab in the summer of 07.'
NY: 'harsh. well other than that i don't know what else there is...'
ME: 'blow job?'
NY: 'what?'
ME: 'i could give you a blow job...or something.'
NY: 'uh i'm not sure, man. i'm not you know gay.'
ME: 'yah me neither but i could suck on it a little while if it made you...change.'
NY: 'alright. maybe for a little.'

(an awkward exchange of zip zip and suck suck noises follow)

ME: 'sorry about that.'
NY: 'it was a little toothy.'
ME: 'well it was my first time doing it so i don't know. sorry.'
NY: 'you should use less tooth. let me show you.'

(another cavalcade if that were the word to use of zip zips and suck sucks)

ME: 'that was pretty good.'
NY: 'thanks.'
ME: 'so...are you going to publish me.'
NY: 'naw. but if you want some regular head i'm your man.'

(pause equating reflection contemplation masturbation)

ME: 'deal.'