Stream #10
16th - 22nd Mar 2019
- Dave Eggers
As I sd to my
friend, because I am
always talking,—John, I
sd, which was not his
name, the darkness sur-
rounds us, what
can we do against
it, or else, shall we &
why not, buy a goddamn big car,
drive, he sd, for
christ’s sake, look
out where yr going.
- Robert Creeley
* * *
Voila, a suitcase of light
bulbs and bright dust
Static
rubber and almost
a stonework map
we don’t fit into
loafing, easygoing
cheese congealed aside a cup of soup
sunken dumpling, slow to smile
downwind a kiss that whispers doom
and ice and
blood vehicles someone
made me happy once
I give up
glum U.S. ornaments
decorate our knuckles
tossing, turning, reheated turkey
stuck to a dried wet dream
I skimmed the fat until the Earth was flat
drilling for grenadine
Ducking grenades
going on a coffee date in a warzone
drawing a map for a blind man
walking home off the edge
of a cliff
Going through the Taco Bell drive-thru
just to hear a human voice
through the static
offering you gorditas and Baja Blast
Into infinity
away from
so much everything
into so much nothing
Static
Space Jam themed suicides clog the drains.
In life I was wayne knight
flattened by juiced monstars
sarcastically resurrected
and force fed canned laughter
while countless michael jordans
slam dunk three pointers
dog driving a car
pretty good at it
nice
shooting a machine gun full of tiny dvds of space jam
riddling the paper target with a hundred tiny dvd-shaped holes
turning the gun on yourself
tiny space jam dvd in your brain
wishing your brain was a dvd player
there's a blockbuster still open
at the edge of the world and
a loaded gun full of your childhood
the penguin and the pebble and
the butterfly effect,
wedding crashers
and the grudge 2
ernest goes to camp and
ernest goes to jail and
space jam
Just realized I have $66,666.66 in unpaid Blockbuster fines.
The pimple-faced greasy-haired grim reaper offers me a 20-year old
box of Bon Bons. Cool cool. 😎
“Had to do it to ya baby” grim r. says
Tru but check this out guy and I press eject
on my dvd brain.
All good again.
😎
Bumper sticker: My getaway driver is a pug
I put an emoji on my tongue disappear for 10 hours. Space jamming baby.
You can space jam baby sober in a quiet coffee shop with a good book too.
My other skeleton is made of cardbord toilet paper tubes and my skeleton daughter is an honor roll student.
Driving. Ambulance behind me. Commercial on the radio for a funeral home the Police on my Back followed by a song about suicide. Car sick. Sucks we gotta die. But whatever.
KSJB
(Keep Space Jamming Baby)
ADIDAS all day
long I dream about
SUICIDE.
Nah it’s ok but sometimes it does get to be that way ya know
Sweet dreams (of suicide) are made of deez
Ima golden eagle
on a chain wishin to be
off the chain
but can’t
(Because all-powerful falconer)
Oh well
(What If
I had
returned
the butterfly
effect
on time
?)
*cracks knuckles*
*smokes crack*
*puts on brass knuckles*
*cracks own jaw*
Static
roof rips off blockbuster
a Shaq Fu of stone looks down
into me I am an Atreyu of doubt
I am so sorry
I turn to stone anyway
enjoy staring at nonpareils
waiting for adventures
ten falcons fly overhead
my voice turns solid
Today @Brad_phillips tweeted “Gonna watch the butterfly effect today cause I hate myself”
and I thought of this
and all the dvds
buried
down in the dumps of the world
Barrack Obama lovingly lowering the elastic waist band of his presidential pajamas
Obama paces the White House
naked when he can't sleep
air con cranked
a low 63
Ashton Kutcher wakes up every
morning in a dorm room
and realizes he
has no arms
Michael Jordan is afraid
to play golf ever since
a cartoon rabbit
kidnapped him
almost asleep in the passenger
seat of my getaway car
I try to remember what
my dad looked like
when I was 13
back when blockbuster
was a thing
pretty cool that dogs can drive
pretty impressive
good boy 🐕
Woke up with burning eyes
and sick in my stomach
but need to go to work anyway
thought I’m a little teapot
and that seemed to help for a while
I jumped out of bed
and landed on all fours
I had become a dog
in my sleep
I was late for work
so I ran the whole way
when I tried to clock in
my coworkers laughed
and petted me
Every day the sun
shit posts
with light
it’s just one thing after another after another to infinity until the magnetic poles do backflips and our eyes burn out
My face in the mirror is a dumb meme
I brush my teeth as 12 cities
crumble
before I leave here
300 million people will be crushed
on a floodplain
like wine grapes
a funambulist falls
an ambulance crashes
the sun sets
on a perfect day
Barack Obama files for Norwegian citizenship and renounces his American citizenship
it's pretty cool
everyone loves it
he does the hang-loose hand sign
and gets into mountaineering
the dog fucks with the radio
puts on some doom metal
electric wizard encourages us to embrace death
to smoke weed
and come on
come on and slam
barack obama sits on top of a mountain
welcomes us to the jam
George W. Bush files for Norwegian citizenship and renounces his American citizenship
it's pretty cool
everyone loves it
he does the hang-loose hand sign
and gets into mountaineering
Obama and Bush unknowingly summit the same mountain on the same day in search of the last blockbuster
they enter the same blockbuster at the same time and reach for the same dvd of space jam
my brain takes a shit
slams a whole pizza
jerks it really good
and passes out on the floor
meanwhile, a small dog causes an 82 car pileup on the Illinois tollway
barack and george (first name basis) engage in hand to hand combat
it's pretty cool
it's like an action movie
fuck yeah
get'm, barack
oooh shit
nice
✨
(barack obama lovingly lowers the elastic waist band of his presidential pajamas and invites the reader to "come on an slam")
bjork wrote that good song about living on mountain
bjork wrote that song about space jam
bjork wrote that song about thriving best hermit-style (with a beard and a pipe)
bjork wrote that song about barack obama lovingly pummeling george bush 2 into the ground in a blockbuster video
"I know what you did," cried Obama. He tightened his grip around George's throat. "Jet fuel can't melt steel beams!"
the dog escaped the 82 car pile up just fine
good boy 🐕
george says he doesn't get it
says he doesn't spend much time on the internet
"Is that a meme thing?" he asks
barack says "yeah, but" and looks visibly frustrated
making a hobby out of letting down the people you care about
letting other hobbies die
🤷
being inconvenient to everyone
by mistake
remaining inconvenient to everyone
by design
depressed at work
wondering when the first presidential suicide will be
the first millennial president
listening to Pedro the Lion in the Oval Office
vaping on the roof
slits her wrists in the bathroom
secret service isn't paying attention
it's a big whatever
whatever
space jam dvd-sized hole in your heart
pushing the eject button over and over
nothing comes out
wondering when you'll die
not too worried about it
it'll happen
just give it time
*reassuring grandmother kiss*
it's like puberty or something
rotting corpse in a field
hit tv show on hulu called Suicide She Wrote
barack obama lovingly pulling down the elastic waist band of his presidential gym shorts
it's like that scene in space jam
with michael jordan's arm getting really long
getting kicked out of the blockbuster video
stealing all the milk duds on the way out
calling the school to tell them
"fuck it
can you just, like
hold onto my kids for a little while?
i got some shit to deal with"
then never dealing with any shit
except for all the shit you deal with on a daily basis
it's easy to forget
what with all the shit
george bush fucking offs himself with a shotgun in his garage
and jimmy fallon makes a dick cheney joke
feeling really shitty
and not doing anything about it
embracing the shittiness
embracing the shit
kissing it softly
tucking in the shit at night
telling the shit you're proud if it
telling the shit to have sweet dreams
thinking about how much you love the shit
while you lay in bed and hyperventilate
"i love the shit" you say
"i just love it so much"
barack hussein obama lovingly lowering the elastic waist band of his presidential gym shorts
the whole country of norway stares intently
it's very tense
it's very
loving
& tender
drinking a lot of coffee just to feel extra bad
actively bad
doing a lot of work in the feeling bad sector
getting a lot done
in terms of feeling bad
george bush fucking offing himself with a samurai sword in the guts
and jimmy fallon makes a joke about his dad puking on that japanese guy
barack hussein obama 2 fumblingly unbuttons the drop seat bottom of his ultra plush onesie and pinches a meaty loaf in the unisex bathroom of a hawaiian blockbuster as a man named America bangs on the door
george walker bush looks both ways and quickly shoves a copy of yoshi's story in a slot behind his right ear
george walker bush eats several 20th anniversary blu-rays of space jam and lays spotted eggs in an alleyway
drew barrymore wakes up on a boat and sees a vhs on the bedside table. It reads good morning lucy. She shoves the vhs in a slot behind her right ear and watches the opening credits of space jam in awe
space jam is about a young teacher (jimmy fallon) at Sea Life Park on the island of Oahu, Hawaii. Elsewhere in outer space, the intergalactic amusement park Moron Mountain is in decline. However, when jimmy fallon goes back to the café the following day, drew barrymore rejects him, but she later changes her mind and agrees to go out with him. As such, she wakes up every morning thinking it is Sunday, October 13, of last year.
While golfing with Bill Murray, Larry Bird and Stan, jimmy fallon is sucked down a hole by Michael Jordan's lasso and into Sea Life Park on the island of Oahu, Hawaii. Despite drew barrymore's warning, jimmy fallon invites michael jordan to have breakfast with him. Overcoming his initial hesitance, jimmy fallon becomes attracted to michael jordan because of his ability to show passionate commitment to something.
Eventually, however, drew barrymore decides to erase jimmy fallon completely from her life after learning of his decision not to take a year-long sailing trip to miss a game against the Yankees in order to escort drew barrymore to her friend's birthday party, something he has been planning for the past 10 years. Jimmy fallon reluctantly helps drew barrymore destroy her journal entries of their relationship.
The film ends with Jordan's 1995 return to the Chicago Bulls to resume his basketball career.
it's pretty great
Hoobastank runs a press release and announce that they are actually a movie
not a band
"thank you for your support" they say
you smash your face against the wall every day for the rest of your life
"it was so fucking obvious" you think
"i should have known"
barack hussein obama lovingly lowering the elastic waist band of his presidential gym shorts to reveal another barack hussein obama lovingly lowering the elastic waist band of his presidential gym shorts
drew barrymore moves to norway and rents a copy of space jam from the last blockbuster video and reads the back of the box:
space syltetøy handler om en ung lærer (jimmy fallon) på Sea Life Park på øya Oahu, Hawaii. Andre steder i verdensrommet er den intergalaktiske fornøyelsesparken Moron Mountain i tilbakegang. Men når jimmy fallon går tilbake til kaféen den neste dagen, drar barrymore avslag på ham, men hun endrer seg og tenker på å gå ut med ham. Som sådan våkner hun hver morgen og tenker det er søndag 13. oktober i fjor.
Mens golf med Bill Murray, Larry Bird og Stan, suges jimmy fallon ned et hull ved Michael Jordanas lasso og inn i Sea Life Park på øya Oahu, Hawaii. Til tross for at Barrymore varslet, inviterte Jimmy Fallon Michael Jordan til å spise frokost med ham. Overvinne sin første tøven, blir Jimmy Fallon tiltrukket av Michael Jordan på grunn av sin evne til å vise lidenskapelig forpliktelse til noe.
Til slutt bestemte drry barrymore seg imidlertid å slette jimmy fallon helt fra sitt liv etter å ha lært av sin beslutning om ikke å ta en år lang seiltur for å savne et spill mot Yankees for å eskorte drar barrymore til vennens bursdagsfest, noe han har planlagt de siste 10 årene. Jimmy Fallon hjelper motvillig til at Barrymore ødelegger hennes journaloppføringer av deres forhold.
Filmen avsluttes med Jordanas 1995-retur til Chicago Bulls for å gjenoppta sin basketball karriere.
she says "jesus christ"
she says "i should have known"
BARACK MOTHERFUCKING HUSSEIN OBAMA LOVINGLY LOWERS THE ELASTIC WAIST BAND OF HIS MOTHERFUCKING PRESIDENTIAL GYM SHORTS AND IT IS SO FUCKING SEXUAL
OH MY GOD
YES
Michael Jordan surfs a wave of hi-fructose corn syrup inside the cage that God’s built before he closed the last Blockbuster and peaced out.
Drinking juicy juice from Jimmy Fallon’s skull while sitting at his desk on the set of his show. Relentlessly pressing the APPLAUSE button until the audience dies from lack of oxygen. Saying it was my way, the highway or Norway to the void. While sipping on dat juice. Dat juiciest of juices.
George W. Bush orders 80 mozzarella sticks knowing there’s no way to pay for them. By the time the bill comes he’s completed his metamorphosis into a night heron. He lifts his spindly legs out of the TGI Friday’s and goofily ambles into the mall parking lot.
Eating 80 mozz sticks and feeling so bad/gross it feels great/gross. Watching Space Jam 47 times in a row. All part of “the plan” tho.
Spending life saving on kiwis and watching those juicy fruits slowly rot. Juiceless life on the kitchen counter.
Thinking about one’s own “shelf life.”
Death 0% juice.
Saying the word “lasso” in a funny voice until it morphs into the word “asshole.” Throwing an asshole around a star. Pulling it down for a forlorn lover. A beautiful star. Covered in shit. Looking into an invisible camera and saying “Am I right?”
APPLAUSE
APPLAUSE
Listening to a police scanner all day. Killing yourself just to get “on the air.” Juicy. Skiing down a mountain of dvds as you bleed.
Move to a country where they dump you in a grave as soon as you go bad. Move to a country where they print a "best if used by:" date on your forehead. Move to a country where nothing fucking matters.
[Note from Giac: We actually got Dave Eggers on the stream this week! He emailed me something cryptic about Electric Wizard (they're an English group! Never heard of them!) and I'm hoping everyone here enjoys his contributions!]
bush turns blue in obama's hands. small dog crashes a humvee into the last blockbuster. thousands of boxes of buncha crunch burst open. small dog leaps through shattered windshield and sniffs the buncha crunch. obama unhands bush and grabs small dog by the scruff of its neck. bad dog. buncha crunch will kill you. small dog smiles at obama. obama pets small dog. bush regains consciousness and pets small dog.
the last blockbuster collapses around them, causing a massive avalanche that causes a massive earthquake that causes a massive tsunami that drowns the whole world.
this is the story of a girl.
Atop a ghostly mountain, the last samurai works at the last blockbuster. ($7.65/hr) The secret of life is hidden in a bonus feature on the special edition blu ray of Space Jam. The samurai solemnly guards the blu ray and subsists soley on cookie dough balls, raisinettes and sprite. Tom Cruise is.......THE LAST SAMURAI.
The orange sea bubbles and over the horizon looms a mega-giant Barack Obama and his elastic waistband is the horizon. And he’s slowly pulling it down.
(R&B slow jam groove as the sea boils)
Inside an empty room nondescript government building in Alaska a fax machine spits out lines of code.
A nondescript gov. employee enters the room and picks up the sheet of paper and leaves the room.
He enters the code into a computer. Waits.
The code is the screenplay of Space Jam.
He picks up the phone:
“Yes sir.....yes sir. It is happening.”
the fax machine prints another page
"Oh my god" says the gov employee
this is what is printed:
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[it's ASCII art of Dave Eggers]
this tanka currently has 3 angry old white dudes arguing over whether it is a tanka or not.
(it is)
tanka for the nemophilia
spring defies winter
ibaraki's acid bruise
piercing litmus noise
detune freezing radio
submission to fleeting hope
a bag of wine on the coffee table
a stack of porn in the can
headless pennies fly through dishwater skies
and stick to a mellified man
deleting myself into space
jamming a gun with an echo
a falcon off the chain
that has forgotten
how
to hunt and wants the chain
the Atlanta Hawks
vs
the Chicago Bulls
Michael Jordon and Dominique Wilkins
dunking on an endless loop
my hands
the shape of France
or the idea
I mean
I am staggering
broken
hearted
genius with the face of a bible
falling
down the stairs
Oh
well
Hi everyone, Dave Eggers here in the Neutral Spaces chatroom. Thanks for letting me join the Stream this week! Very cool project. It reminds me of something we'd do at one of our many 826 Valencia locations across these United States (826 Valencia is a Non-Profit writing club for students age 6 to 18). I took a brief look through what you guys have been writing and it seems pretty cool and post-modern so far, which I'm a big fan of (if you like post-modern literature, I would recommend to you my 2002 novel You Shall Know Our Velocity!) and look forward to contributing to it. Anyway, while I'm here, I was thinking I could answer any questions you all, my fellow writers, might have (yes, I said fellow writers because no matter how many or how few books you sell, if you write, you're a writer, at least in my book, ha ha ha). Also, if you have any specific questions about my latest book, The Parade (out now on Penguin Random House), I'd love to talk about it. It's been a project very near and dear to my heart, as you might all appreciate. - D. E.
Oops! Looks like this is the wrong page. Hey, Giacomo, could you be a dear and remove the above post? I meant to put that in the chatroom. Thanks. -D. E.
Guys, DO NOT listen to Dave Eggers. I'm the real David Eggers. My favorite cheese is nacho. That's something only the real David Eggers would know. Ask Vince Vaughn (Wedding Crashers), we went to high school together. Vince Vaughn knows me, the real David Eggers, better than I, the real David Eggers, know myself, the real David Eggers.
Please DO NOT listen to that impostor Dave Eggers. And remember to buy the real David Eggers' new book, The Parade, out now on Penguin Random House. Thanks.
Please stop. It's embarrassing to watch you impersonate me, Dave Eggers. We all know someone like me, a humble genius, would never ask people to buy my book.
For deep down, I know that you've all bought it already.
Let's end this nonsense here, or else I will use my FBI connections to find you. When I find you I will cut off your face and wear it over my own and introduce myself in cafes as someone who impersonates Dave Eggers, the writer known best for his work of staggering genius.
Hey everyone, is this actually the chat? -D. E.
Guys, why isn't my name appearing at the top like in the chat? -D. E.
That's David Eggers to you, small fry. Have you ever crashed a wedding with Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson? I've seen a million faces and I've rocked them all. You'll never meet another David Eggers like me. I'm the real David Eggers. I'll break your fucking neck and make it look like an accident. And then I'll turn myself into the police and you know what? They'll drop the charges because my new book, The Parade, out now on Penguin Random House, is saving lives across the world. Don't fuck with me.
Hey Guys, bibles here. This is the place we're chatting in now? Cool. I just wanted to say that today Musette went outside with me, and she had the dog and the baby, and blah, blah, blah, but anyways, my new book Parade hits theaters sometime next year. It's going to star Collin Farrel and Collin Firth, and I think that it's got the potential to bring Blockbuster Video back to the states. Let me know your thoughts. Ok? Thanks.
- D. E.
I kind of like this little site you've got here. I've been thinking about going indie for my next David Eggers book, "How Much Wood Could a Woodchuck Chuck if a Woodchuck Could Transcend Mortality?" I just want to stay out of the spotlight for a while. How much would you pay me to publish my novel in the Neutral Spaces stream? Someone tell Giac to add me on Snapchat. Tell him I'm available to talk numbers aboard my private steampunk flying machine sometime this evening. Thanks.
Hey Dave, this is Leonora from Wylie. If you're publishing any Literary Fiction, Short or Otherwise (cf section 5.6.2 of your contract?) on this website, I think we're going to have a problem. So please stop, and please get in touch ASAP. I tried e-mailing you but it says your inbox is full again. Thanks.
Leonora this is totally unprofessional. I told you after that terrible foot massage you gave me last week that you were on your final warning. I'm going to self represent through this site from now on. Giacomo, I will be filling in the google form shortly.
I thought I told you to leave me alone. Haven't I made you and your goons enough money, Leonora? The Parade has sold more copies than the fucking Bible already. I'm flying solo from now on. I'm halfway across the Atlantic, on my way to Giacomo's place. Why don't you make yourself useful and tell everyone I fucking quit? Thanks.
Leonora, I know you are reading this. STOP CALLING ME. Aside from anything, you know I can't take calls at 35,000ft the plane would crash and all my staff would die (I still only travel with one life jacket)
Hey Dave, as your agent, I'm very happy that your book is selling so well. But unfortunately you've signed a contract. It has many subsections. It has non-compete clauses. It has deep discussion on what happens if you break your end of the deal. And, importantly, it has your signature on it. My hands are tied. Please call me when you get a chance.
Hey, Leonora, this is Hari Kunzru, your other high-visibility client who writes best selling literary fiction. I see you've found your phone. So weird how you keep losing it or whatever whenever I want to get in touch about my next project. Glad to see you're still riding Dave's jock, though. Super cool. Let me know when a good time to swing by the office would be. Or answer my calls. Whatever. It's chill. I'm chill.
My signature is worth more than your fucking life. I made you. Where were you before you met the real David Eggers? I remember. You were shining shoes and eating shit. It's my life. It's now or never. I ain't gonna live forever. Fuck you.
Hey Giac, just crash landed off the coast of Reykavik. Meet me halfway? I'm going to need a ride. Add me on Snap, bud.
You have a private steampunk flying machine, right? I don't do regular planes. Just add me on Snap anytime, my guy. Actually, if you could add me as soon as possible, that would be great. Add me like right now. Thanks, man. Stoked to meet you.
Dave slowly drifts off. His mind finds an arizona landscape. Nice. He thinks about the president's waistband. oooh. very. nice.
'i couldn't get it hard if i wanted to'
he inserts a finger into the presidential anus
'holly phoenix suns. go deeper, dave.'
the orange pharaoh's cheeks slowly turn red with excitement. 'i'll make you chief of staff. dave.'
As Dave is fishing around he feels that hard nugget. The story that he was keeping later
it was with this he is a young man again deep throating his way through philosophy school in arizona.
Taking a deep breath dave pushes in a second finger and delicately teases out the long silk scarf attached the nugget. It's dirty but he can still read his younger self's work
oh dear this is delightful. he thinks to himself, what's norwegian for mouthful? scarf in hand he notices a poem:
look at me dear in this lovely room
my cock is the shape of a fricking mushroom
-the president release a huge load of hot lovely spermy wormy sperm into dave's mouth-
dave swallows and feels the presidential semen slide lovingly down his esophagus. he thinks to himself - wow i'm pregnant with words and now i'm pregnant for reals. the rest of his life is like that movie with arnold schawnegger. where danny devitos makes him pregnant. nice
Dave, what the fuck are you trying to accomplish here?
dave, like all of us, dreams of raising his children in the wilds of arizona
with charles barkley as the patriarch of some new tribe
that reads rimbaud and eats cheese crackers
nice
Dave Eggers rubs his hands together
"Time to finally tie all these loose ends together. This stream is my life's work, all on the heels of The Parade (out now on Penguin Random House). I'm a writer. I can do this."
He gets to work, palm pilot in hand:
1. The dog got away fine. Good boy. Fuck Illinois.
2. Leonora burns my contract. The entire city of NYC burns down. Fuck contracts. Hail Satan. Nice.
3. Barack and George (first name basis) watch Space Jam together. They make out. It's hot (hot like Arizona? maybe workshop this one, good lead here)
4. The government employee gets promoted. He did a good job. Good boy.
'have you noticed how attractive coyotes are'
a voice says out of nowhere
is this a holy voice. like saul heard
'go fuck a coyote, dave'
dave doesn't think god would say something like that
he looks at his palm pilot
he sighs
he pulls his pecker out and waves it at a cactus
"This is some real David Foster Wallace shit" he says. "Am I truly a character in a story, like that chick in The Broom of the System? That's so, like," Dave says. He sighs. "That's so post modern."
he puts his pecker away
the voice now BOOMS.
'GO FUCK A COYOTE DAVE'
'god, why should i fuck a coyote?'
dave seems sad and he contemplates pulling his pecker out again
"i love you, little buddy" he whispers
"I LOVE YOU TOO" the voice booms
'NOW GO FUCK A COYOTE'
dave starts to sob
'i don't like coyotes' he spits out between sobs
'i just want to be a good boy. and drink juice. not that kinda juice.'
the scene fades to black
a beer comercial
and then a slow fade in reveals
dave
fucking
a
coyote
(it's real gross and wet and everyone hates it)
Dave is about to detonate. The coyote howls. But it's not a coyote's voice. It's a man's. Dave notices a zipper on the back of its neck. Careful not slip out, he bends forward and tugs the zipper. The coyote's head falls off, revealing the back of a beautiful head of curly brown locks. The head turns. It's Dave Eggers.
"It's me!"
"It's you."
"I'm such a big fan," moans Dave.
"Feels like you're my biggest fan. It's like there's a parade inside me."
Bottom Dave winks at Top Dave.
Applause deafens the Daves as they detonate.
sharing a cigarette
dave notices another zipper. Dave unzips. revealing a rather sensuous coyote from a disney movie about coyotes.
"Why don't I slip into something more comfortable?" says Dave
He unzips his Dave Eggers skin suit. It's David Foster Wallace.
"Now that's pomo," says the coyote approvingly.
"Yeah, I guess," says David Foster Wallace
still sweating and very much in love they play a game of basketball
which is very erotic and lots of naughty touching
it's so good
so so so good
sinking balls into holes
'hey, coyote have you ever been to norway'
'yes, once, with jim morrison'
YES harder harder slam dunk your broom of the system in my foxhole just like mike, baby, just like mike, bow wow wow
said jim morrison
fill my crystal ship, daddy
thus spoke zarathustra
zara-thrust-ya texas radio and the big beat in my whiskey bar
dave eggers stares at his laptop
"what the fuck is wrong with me," he says
he logons on to tumblr and types - c
o
y
o
t
e
into the search engine
Dave looks over his shoulder and listens, making sure his wife and kids are still asleep. Then he presses backspace and types again:
"wile e coyote daddy dom little girl anal gape"
he shoves a hand down his pants as the page loads
not knowing that behind him a disembodied presidential waistband has appeared
the disembodied presidential waistband licks its chops
dave eggers squeezes his meat
but the page won't load
dave eggers hears a noise behind him and jumps out of his chair
he looks around the room
and sees nothing but a presidential waistband heaped on the floor
"I don't remember buying these," he thinks
to his horror, the presidential waistband crawls up his legs
he tries to fight off the presidential waistband, but it fuses with all the skin on his body. dave crashes to the floor
"Dave Eggers," says a man. "My favorite author."
dave looks up and sees barack hussein obama standing naked in the doorway. Obama smiles.
"Why don't we get you out of those clothes?"
Obama brandishes a boxcutter and begins peeling off dave eggers's presidential waistband skin
lovingly