Fancy Boooooooooi came to town and demanded nachos so we compromised. He still seemed sad, but I made him eat it anyway.

My food blistered. I bit into moons. A particle drifted off Jupiter and climbed into the mozzarella. Today I woke up and climbed out of bed and slept the afternoon on the floor. I could live in a bathtub if you mail me boxes of cheerios. The sun would not find the bathtub. People would send me butter in glued envelopes. I am going to eat parmesan until my face crumbles and my armpits turn to dust. Turn me into a particle and mail me to Neptune.

Someone asked if I was fond of my present head shape. I shook my head. Hair fell off it. Each year between six and nineteen million people knowingly eat an ounce of someone else’s hair. I was born in an age of pepperoni toupee. I’ve eaten the shape off someone’s head before.

I visited another planet last night. I ate a flower. It sprouted into a sock. I did not swallow the sock. I kept the sock. Held it very close to my chest as I slept. A person whispered thoughts of ham. They were not my ham. It is not fair to speak of the ham and not the mother. Evelyn Hampton gave birth in a room with other people. She said, “My boyfriend and I once bought half a cow and ate it for six months and sold the rest.” In the corner there was a cough. A shape of a coyote died under this sickness. In another corner the band SSAATTUURRNN opened for a performance of Gangster’s Paradise which opened for a five minute set of Indian classical music which opened for a pot of cabbage which opened for no assumptions for a non elbow which opened for a monologue of that movie with Michael Keaton. This morning I woke up on earth and cooked a pizza.

This box is filled with a vegan cupcake that tastes like pizza dough covered in olives, peppers, and cheese. The cheese is either made from synthetic or organic materials. I am not sure the difference. Also, I accidentally put a lot of honey on the dough before I learned that vegans sometimes don’t eat honey. I am sorry vegan house I am visiting. I have ruined your beliefs. It was a mistake inviting me. I will ruin your party.

Andre mailed me a slice of corn pizza from Colombia.

A pizza grows in my oven. It dies in my internals. A system of events created olives and onions and cheese in my refrigerator. The day will come when the refrigerator will be replaced. When your day comes into the light I will give you a son. When your son breathes I will give him the brains. Hello John. A postal sheet stuffs a mailbox. John got no mail. Goodnight John. I have eaten forty-six pounds of dough in the last two weeks.

I made a pizza at 8am this morning. Then I wrapped it in my grandmother’s tinfoil. She brought me cookies this weekend. The tinfoil was a leftover from my consumption. After I wrapped the pizza I went to the gym to get toasty with Andre. I am not sure if Andre is dead still. We toasted our chests and triceps. They feel crispy right now. I believe Andre spent his evening painting some wood. Today, Andre held a paintbrush. When we left the gym we ate the pizza out of the leftover tinfoil. I did not take a photograph because I am an old man and my brain is slow after I toast myself.

I read an internet. It was written by Ben Marcus. It was about Deborah Eisenberg.

The world is blurry and wrapped in tinfoil. I eat some of it. A small majority of it sticks to foil and I decide to eat the metal until my teeth hurt and my teeth hurt after only a little bit so I take a nap and when I wake up my teeth don’t hurt anymore.

I made a post about a full pizza in a box but then it got lost on the internet and I ate most of the box and then tried the find the internet but I only had three slices left.

An interesting happened today. I was at the supermarket.

I’m eating pizza and reading this pretty sweet poetry journal called ‘Globe’. There is some mind-blowing thought chaos going on. I want to say more but I don’t know how to use words anymore. Pick up your copy of this at any supermarket in the poetry section.

I made a pizza at 8:30am. I put egg, pepperoni, honey, and cheese on it. I did not take a picture. I wrapped it in tinfoil and went to the gym. At the gym I toasted my back and quads and threw a medicine ball around a basketball court. When I left the gym I opened the tinfoil and ate the pizza with my dead friend Andre from Colombia. If you don’t remember, I mentioned somewhere on the internet that Andrew died. I guess he is still dead. A few minutes passed. We saw Steve. Two hours passed. I asked Andre if he wanted a hardboiled egg. He said he did. I gave him a hardboiled egg. He cracked it on a brick.

Today’s station was rectangle. I hear a cat meow. A bottle fell. I put the bottle on the sauce. It melted. We eat plastic or maybe glass but it is okay because of the rectangles. Breathe on the glass in the sauce and it will be invisible. We feel safe. I am going to put everything I eat in my stomach and hold onto it for a little while.