LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE FELT TIPS I LIKE TO WRITE WITH. AREN’T I HUNTER S. NOW?

I like to scream alphabetically like Tyler, the Creator. Obviously, it makes me feel loud, especially when I’m alone in my apartment a lot these days. AREN’T I COOL FOR LIKING HIP-HOP AND GONZO JOURNALISM?

Actually, I hope so, because everyone likes to think the interests that form the core infrastructure and ornamental in-progress scaffolding of their personality and appearance and nature are cool.

LOOK AT ME NOW I BLOG ON MEDIUM. IT LOGS ME IN WITH MY TWITTER. I HAVE FOLLOWERS.

Do I have enough caps left? How much of the strawberry-sized Internet is important enough to invest some self-worth in?

What if I don’t finish a book (let alone an even readable one [or a successful one] sheesh) before they’re all Kindle-ing? Or relentless.com Amazon (seriously try it) ruins the industry forever? Shout out to my Prime account.

“Have a bonfire with old Harry Potter books.”