crispin best was so quirky. such a quirky, lovable english gent. no one expected him to off himself at the age of 35. no one except maybe his wife of two years, adele, had any clue that crispin was spiraling out of control.
crispin’s first novel, the first butt is the deepest, was released in the year 2017 to much critical acclaim. even brett easton ellis liked it and he usually hates everything.
before his book was released, mostly alt lit people were on crispin’s dick. after the release of his book, however, the whole world seemed to be on crispin’s dick.
‘i’m definitely on crispin’s dick’ oprah tweeted on july 19th, 2017. oprah tweeted this while actually being on crispin’s dick much to the chagrin of stedman. adele didn’t care about this at the time because her and crispin had an open relationship and she was fooling around with britney spears. britney spears’ conservatorship ended in 2016, so her and adele were free to do whatever freaky things adele and britney spears can do together.
so yea, crispin’s book was released and the whole world was on his dick. he began doing multiple drugs which was normal because by 2017 half of the world will be addicted to either marijuana or crack. the real shocking thing was that crispin’s twitter followers remained the same even after he was showered with praise, accolades, fun drugs, and millions of dollars.
‘what the fuck is going on with my twitter’ crispin says to adele
‘honey, what do you mean?’ adele says
‘my followers are still the same as they were before i had all these dick riders’ crispin says
‘it’s not that bad babe. you just won a pulitzer prize for the first butt is the deepest, you should be extremely proud of your accomplishments’ adele says
‘don’t give me that pulitzer prize bullshit. i want millions of retweets and favorites. you got 2 million retweets for tweeting ‘dinner with my girls’ crispin says
‘yea, i was super proud of that one’ adele says
‘god, i’m going to the pub. and please tell britney to do the fucking dishes. she’s such a bloody slob’ crispin says
crispin goes to a pub and gets so wasted that his tweets aren’t even quirky. he actually loses 50 followers which means his followers are below what they were prior to when he was famous. crispin begins crying and the paparazzi catch him in action. ‘fucking slags’ crispin says as he gives them the middle finger, hops in his flying car and drives drunk to his chateau aptly named ‘chateau crispin’. he stumbles through the door, passes adele and britney dong something mildly sexual, and goes straight to his room.
crispin logs onto his macbook hologram and discovers that he lost even more followers due to word getting out that he drove his flying car home drunk. he grabs his .44 and is about to put the trigger to his temple but britney spears barges into his room and chops his head off with a machete. she does this in one clean chop.
adele and britney had been plotting to kill crispin for awhile and somehow made his death look like a suicide since he was already clutching a .44.
after his death, crispin’s followers grew by about 70 million because shit like this always happens when celebs have sensational deaths. he tried to tweet his gratitude from the after life but there’s no wifi there.
the year is 2023. diana salier stopped writing years ago and is living off of her letters from robots residual checks. after living in berlin, paris, new york, johannesburg, and tokyo, diana decided to move back to san francisco. she always had a warm spot in her heart for san francisco and now that she was filthy rich from selling books, she didn’t have to worry about rent increases like she did in 2014.
today diana is walking across the golden gate bridge with jonathan franzen. in the year 2023, jonathan franzen’s career is non existent due to the world finally realizing that he doesn’t get it. broke and friendless, diana let him rent out one of the apartments she owns in the bay area. only if he promised to keep his rants about kraus to a minimum that is.
on their walk, diana and jonathan talk about the state of american literature in a post alt lit world, hipsters invading antarctica, and beyonce’s 8th secret album that dropped that day.
jonathan thought that beyonce’s third secret album was her best one because it was her most kraus-esque. diana said she was indifferent to beyone’s secret albums and reprimanded jonathan for bringing up kraus again.
diana: one more word about kraus and i’m raising your rent
jonathan: sorry. i’ll try to keep my trap shut. it’s just hard now that white males don’t sell the most novels anymore
diana: cry me a fucking river bro
diana and jonathan continue walking over the bridge when they run into j.k. rowling. j.k. left england in shame after letters from robots out sold all of the harry potter books combined. she moved to san francisco soon after and walked over the golden gate bridge everyday in hopes that she’d one day run into diana and give her a piece of her mind.
diana: what’s up j.k. rowling
jonathan: hi j.k. read anything by kraus lately?
diana and jk: stfu franzen
jonathan: ok. sorry
jk: diana, you look so lovely. i see you finally were able to afford a new wardrobe now that your book sales are up
diana: haha. i’ve always dressed well. me selling more books than you was just an added bonus
in that moment, j.k. grabbed diana by the hair and began pushing her towards the edge of the golden gate bridge. diana was unable to get loose from j.k.’s grasp due to j.k. also secretly weight training for this specific moment.
j.k. somehow managed to lift diana above her head, spin her around, and throw her off of the golden gate bridge. jonathan franzen immediately jumped in as well because he couldn’t imagine living in a world without being able to complain to someone about the state of modern literature and kraus. in her death, diana became an even more famous writer and her book sales went through the roof. j.k. rowling was sentenced to life in prison without parole. the world remained indifferent to jonathan franzen. the golden gate bridge was renamed the salier bridge. buy a vintage copy of letters from robotshere: http://www.ebay.com/itm/NEW-Letters-from-Robots-by-Diana-Salier-Paperback-Book-English-Free-Shipping-/360913307954
1. wake up
2. brush teeth
3. take shower
4. get dressed
5. eat breakfast
6. write a post for his tumblr
7. drive to work
8. teach class at the university of texas
9. eat lunch
10. teach another class at the university of texas
11. leave campus
12. drive to the house of his mistress
13. have sex with his mistress
14. leave the house of his mistress
15. drive back to campus
16. teach another class
17. go to his office
18. grade papers
19. leave campus
20. drive home
21. help daughter with homework
22. fight with wife
23. tell wife he doesn’t have a mistress
24. eat dinner with wife and daughter
25. avoid wife’s judgmental gaze
26. laughs with daughter at wife’s expense
27. does the dishes
28. drives to local bar
29. hangs out with friends
30. tells friends he’s going to write a new book
31. tells friends he’s going to file for divorce
32. friends tell him they’re glad he’s going to write a new book
33. friends tell him that his last book was fucking awesome
34. friend’s congratulate him on pending divorce
35. friend’s tell him they don’t like his wife at all
36. get’s drink at the bar
37. tells bartender about divorce
38. bartender is happy because she thinks his wife is a bitch
39. drinks with his friends for a bit
40. sobers up
41. drives home
42. reads note on door from wife that says: i hate your guts
43. crumples note and throws it in garbage
44. eats a pot brownie
45. opens laptop
46. chats with an internet friend
47. tells internet friend that he’s divorcing his wife
48. internet friend says that that’s a good thing
49. internet friend says wife is not a good person
50. internet friend says wife was standoffish during awp dallas
51. stops chatting with internet friend
52. begins work on his novel
53. remembers how his first novel won a beachie award for best novel
54. goes upstairs to his daughters room
55. peaks through the door and sees that she’s asleep
56. kisses her on the forehead and shuts off her bedside lamp
57. walks by his room and notices his soon to be ex wife is asleep but doesn’t kiss her forehead because she’s a light sleeper and she also hates forehead kisses with a passion
58. realizes how happy he’ll be once he’s divorced
59. texts his weed dealer
60. eats some weed ice cream
61. reads text from weed dealer that tells him that he has to come to him
62. feels inspired and writes more of his novel
63. stretches for a couple of minutes
64. changes into something more comfortable
65. realizes that he wants to feel something so profound and beautiful that the whole universe would bloom like a flower in his mind
66. eats more ice cream
67. hops in his car and drives to dealer’s house
68. gets hit by a truck on his way to dealer’s house
these are sixty-eight things that occurred before chris dankland’s death at the age of 37. that december, he won a beachie award for most alt lit death.
when tara found out she had an incurable disease at age 30 something
she was freaked out
tara did not want to die
tara had a lot more she wanted to accomplish before she bit the dust
oh well though
death is death
when it happens there’s nothing you can do about it
that’s just the way the cookie crumbles
when tara was diagnosed
nobody could believe it
her career was going well
she was making a lot of money doing what she loved
and her significant other was really hot
tara had this incurable disease and only had a month or two to live
in that period she
wrote a touching essay about why it sucked to be dying for no reason
she visited 30 countries
she tried food she never tried before
she lived more
she loved more
she had lots of sex
she snapped some of the most beautiful pictures she’d ever taken
she became ok with the fact that her life was cut short
almost as short as this description of her untimely death
by 27, luna miguel was one of the most decorated poets in all of spain
her poetry had been translated into 12 different languages
she had been photographed by everyone from karl lagerfeld to stephen meisel
her ted talks had millions of views on youtube
her life was amazing and it’s a shame that it ended so tragically
luna was last seen on a yacht in sant feliu de guixols
penguin books was throwing a soiree in honor of the release of her new collection of poetry
those who were there say luna seemed distant and not as engaging and personable as she usually is
‘she just seemed really into her thoughts’ a party goer told police
others say luna looked happy and was ecstatic that her new collection was being released
‘she was all smiles and was in good spirits until she disappeared’ said another partygoer
by 12:30 am, the yacht came back to shore and everyone started getting off of it
john makinson hopped in his aston martin and waited for luna to get in
she never showed up
police were called to the area and the search for luna began
they searched the yacht, the surrounding waters, and town
no one could find her after weeks and weeks of searching
there’s a theory that luna faked her own death
or maybe even committed suicide
’27 seemed like the perfect age for her to go’ someone said
‘she’ll be young forever now’
i am alt lit review of oscar schwartz’s death:
seems like oscar schwartz died
seems like he died a couple of hours ago
seems like no one knows how he died
i just reviewed oscar’s book last week
for those of you who don’t know
it received a 200.0
that’s 100 points higher than a perfect score
it’s the perfect book
for those of you who didn’t read the review here it is:
seems bad that oscar died before he could blow up
dazed digital was going to do a profile on him too
what does oscar’s death mean for the future of alt lit?
feel like oscar somehow ‘became’ the most important alt lit
figure of them all
heard he died in melbourne os
final alt lit gossip post
if you guys don’t know by now, frank hinton is no longer alive. details about her death can’t be disclosed atm because, as you do know, she was anonymous and took her anonymity very seriously. frank hinton was a big part of this community and she will be greatly missed. one thing is for sure though, she died and now she will be anonymous forever. doesn’t that make you mad? doesn’t it piss you off to know that you will never know who frank hinton is? frank hinton might’ve been a dude this whole time and no one will ever know for sure. i’m not even sure if frank was a human being. she might’ve been some sort of extraterrestrial male/female hybrid who wanted to bring alt lit to the masses. can’t even deal with this news right now. the only reason i know frank hinton died is because i got an email that said ‘frank hinton died.’ maybe the pen name frank hinton is dead and not the person who created the persona of frank hinton. who fucking knows. i’m just sad that i never got to meet her. i’m going to miss her posts. i’m going to miss her tweets. i’m going to miss her amazing writing. r.i.p frank hinton. you will forever be missed and we love you.
shortly after his hit novel, walls, was released, andrew worthington went crazy and joined a terrorist organization. this particular terrorist organization had their headquarters in a place that wasn’t new york, which means andrew left his life in new york to become a full time terrorist. maggie lee did not go with andrew because she didn’t think terrorism was chill.
andrew’s novel, walls, made it’s way to oprah’s book club in november 2014. this was unexpected because it was released on a small press and small press books are hard to get the attention of oprah. james franco immediately bought the rights to andrew’s novel and wanted to produce, star in, and direct a film about it. andrew was skeptical at first but agreed to james franco’s pleas because people seem to have a hard time saying no to james franco.
so andrew was rich, had a hot girlfriend (maggie lee), and his book was going to be turned into a film. he should’ve been on cloud nine but he just couldn’t help feeling like he wanted more. he was tired of the ny literary scene. tired of going to readings. tired of everyone blowing smoke up his ass for writing such a wonderful piece of literature.
this is around the time andrew started watching terrorism videos on youtube. at first he thought it was unchill but then he thought it was very chill. maggie tried to convince andrew that it wasn’t chill but he wouldn’t believe her. he hopped on a plane the next day and never turned back. everyone in ny couldn’t believe how unchill andrew simply worthington turned out to be.
andrew arrived in the country where the terrorist group was and quickly rose in the ranks. the other members of the terrorist group enjoyed his sermons, his deep intellect, and his obscure punk music collection. after years of brainstorming terrorist ideas, andrew and his terrorist friends hatched out a plan to assassinate pope francis. one of the terrorist members thought this idea was unchill and andrew immediately cut his head off.
andrew and his terrorism crew arrived in rome 3 days after his 30th birthday. they hatched out a plan to disguise themselves as breakdancers sent to entertain the pope similar to how these dancers (http://youtu.be/BFYgN5FvzFA) entertained this guy that may or may not have been a pope. andrew would then break dance up to the pope and break his neck when he did a wind mill. it took andrew 2 years to learn how to break dance and he became extremely good. he even entered the world breaking championships and came in third place behind boogaloo shrimp.
by the time andrew got close to the pope, a sniper shot him in the neck before he got to snap the pope’s neck in the name of terrorism. the video of the botched assassination had more views on youtube than gangum style. maggie lee mentioned this tidbit during her speech at his funeral. she also read that chapter in walls where the main character goes to applebees. andrew’s funeral was chill.
chelsea martin’s body was found in a river on january 15, 2019. she quit writing a few years before, married a rich husband, and didn’t give a fuck about what anyone thought about her life choices. chelsea didn’t really like her husband but he was rich and that was an ok reason to be married to him. he wanted her to continue writing and make cute little chapbooks and do readings. chelsea was having none of that shit though. she just wanted to spend her pushover husband’s millions, tweet funny tweets and count her blessings in her beautiful mansion. still, this woman of leisure ended up just as dead as the rest of them. after a 15 day search, chelsea’s body was recovered and the surrounding community was not really that shocked because at least 3 bodies were recovered from rivers monthly. once examined by the medical examiners, both noticed that chelsea’s facial expression seemed more apathetic than other people who were recovered from rivers.
examiner #1: she looks really unamused
examiner #2: yea, death might’ve been good for her. when it came to life, she seemed completely over it
keegan and his band aptly named ‘keegan’ were the biggest band in the whole world
they sold 14 million records
they played stadiums
keegan crawford was the most popular guy in the band
he was the most popular vegan in the world
he brought death metal back to the masses
he convinced most people that veganism is good for your mind, body, and spirit
he dated scarlett johansson and convinced her to become a vegan
he also convinced her to listen only to death metal
this gave scarlett johansson a new fan base of death metal, vegan enthusiasts
how we miss thee
you were everything to us
you and your band
you and your successful vegan food trucks and vegan supermarkets
and vegan line of soaps
you gave us a reason to not be afraid to listen to death metal
your cutty spot interview was a classic
it’s now in the smithsonian due to its level of classicity
is that even a word?
we will miss thee
your all black everything attire
the way you screamed your pain away on stage
the way you remained humble even after winning the nobel peace prize
for being authentically metal
we love you keegan
ozzy osbourne loves you
stealing things is his favorite piece of literature
according to sharon osbourne
why did you have to leave us?
on the eve of your 38th birthday no less
‘keegan’ will never be the same without you
scarlett johansson is distraught
your fans are mourning you like crazy
but hey man
you did your job
you’re on the other side now
death metal is the biggest its ever been
people equate being a vegan with being swagged out
yes my man
you did your job
l. m. marciano:
laura wanted to do something very special for her reading at unnamable books. usually she just read some poetry or did the regular stuff people did at readings, but this time she wanted to push the limits of what one can do when they read in front of people. laura had just released her new book of poetry the day of her reading. prior to the reading, laura had an interview with npr about her book and where she saw contemporary poetry going. laura’s poetry book got rave reviews and she wanted this reading to culminate in the ultimate rave review.
here she was, about to read from her poetry book that was already a top seller on amazon and had an amazing score on good reads. she walked past her friends, members of her family, and other poets who were jealous of laura’s quick rise to literary fame.
after she read the third poem from her self titled book of poetry, laura picked up what looked like a glass of water and took a large sip. she began choking immediately as the sulphuric acid heated up her insides and tore through her intestines. the audience gasped and people rushed to her aide but there was nothing that could be done.
performance art can be deadly sometimes.
listen up kids cause here’s a tale
about a writer who once refused to fail
his first name was michael
and his last
but caution children because this
story does not end well
for even though michael had riches
he still got caught up in the hollywood glitz and glamour
and ultimately fell
mr. heald was an american icon
a legend in the game
his writing inspired new generations of writers
to upgrade their literature
mr. heald inspired writers to not do more of the same
goodbye to nervous apprehension
put him on the map
and made those who weren’t aware of his genius take note
the lit world immediately came to the conclusion
that m.h. was better than most
please listen up cause you may learn a thing or two
michael may have once been
a young, promising upstart
but after all the fame
he became a self-obsessed
self destructive dude
he wrote a shit ton and all of it was great
but he believed the positive things the world was saying
and let his ego get in his own way
those closest to him couldn’t believe how quickly he
he shut himself off from the outside world
and stopped publishing books on perfect day
in the pacific northwest he did not stay
he moved to the hollywood hills
and started writing screenplays
soon he got into the hollywood lifestyle
lots of partying and coke
soon the writer who was once the
best of his generation
ended up down and out
and flat broke
he hopped into his luxury vehicle one day
and was excessively speeding
he always did stuff like this
he thought nothing of it
until he fucked up
and drove himself off of a cliff
he just got caught up that was all
the true him was on the inside
the real guy produced the classic
“this is part of something bigger
if you really want to write
beware of the fortune and the fame
it is very fleeting
don’t focus on the negative aspects of
michael heald’s life
it’s his profound literature you should
jordan castro moved to india after he grew tired of writing successful poetry and doing poetry related shit. at this point he was clean and sober and didn’t want to be influenced by all the coked out and alcoholic poets who provided him with a plethora of coke, alcohol, and lots of other shit that inebriates creative types.
going to india cleared jordan’s mind and helped him focus on his body and spirit. most of his day was spent meditating and ignoring messages from fan girls who wanted to fuck him. in india, jordan was not interested in fucking girls who only loved him for his poetry. he wanted a girl to love him for his true self.
india was good to jordan and jordan was good to india. he lived in indian cities and indian villages and everyone loved him so it’s a shame that he was murdered and robbed of his cash on his way home from a meditation symposium. he was 27 years of age.
if anybody knows where ana c’s suicide note is then it would be be great if you could return it. ana c. was important to us all and the fact that someone would steal it is super fucked up. yea, its kind of strange that she wrote a letter and didn’t post it somewhere online but the fact remains that the note is missing and needs to be returned so it can be immortalized and studied in universities across the world. i read it once and it was the best suicide note that i ever layed my eyes upon. she talked about new wave vomit and mike bushnell and boo the dog and basic bitches and taco bell and her parents and teaching and tijauna and basic bitches in tijauna and san diego and being shy and catholic school and chapbooks and bronies and all the other fun and quirky stuff ana carrete talked and wrote about. so please, i beg of you. please return the suicide note of the poet laureate of 2019. she was all but 34 years old. she was ana c. she was so cute. she was a a baby babe.
it’s 13 years later and steve roggenbuck is no longer a vegan.
pretty hard to believe
in fact, steve is addicted to meat and consumes it thrice daily
sure he’s the most successful self help guru alive
and he’s sold millions of books
and he made those mt. olive kids into superstars
and he still has most of the fans that he had
during the peak of alt lit
but his arteries are clogged
his blood pressure is high
and he’s on the verge of death because he can’t stop
eating all this goddamn meat
right now you are peaking into the future
this is a sneak peak at steve roggenbuck’s death
you are about to be the complete opposite of boosted
steve is at boost mansion
he is wearing skinny jeans and a green hoodie
his hair style is nothing like justin beiber’s because
steve gave up on him sometime around 2014
you are peaking into the future
steve roggenbuck is about to die and there’s nothing
that can stop it
steve’s face is still quite youthful
he looks about 26
he still jumps around
and gives inspiring speeches
and says fricked up stuff about your dad
the only difference is
he’s now worth $200 million dollars
and he has a hollywood tan
steve is eating lunch right now
he’s eating twelve hot dogs
and 5 loaves of meat
steve has an amazing trainer who keeps him looking
as svelte as he was in his alt lit days
what a shame this is
no one around him knows he has hypertension
and an enlarged liver
steve is great at lying because
he’s so nice
it’s easy to fall under the spell of a nice guy
especially one with a great tan
so now steve is about to die
here we go in 5, 4, 3, 2,….
steve’s heart is beating erratically
he clutches his chest
he screams for his butler (an ex member of boost house
who’s still vegan)
he finds the time to record a video of himself running
through boost mansion
screaming at his fans to never give up on their dreams
he also finds the time to tweet one last thing to his
500 million twitter followers
that’s how steve passed away
november 11, 2027 became known as roggenbuck day
steve was survived by his girlfriend betty
and his favorite laptop
his final tweet was
sarah’s first novel is finally released today and everyone around her is excited. she has a profile in time magazine. her internet presence is stronger than ever. she’s the it girl of the moment and everyone knows it.
she’s on the red carpet of her book release at some schmaltzy spot in brooklyn. the paparazzi yell and scream her name. it’s complete chaos. sarah is looking hot in her party dress and everyone comments on how she’s the baddest in the game.
while inside the party, sarah dances the night away and celebrates with all her friends who stuck with her since day one. she starts getting emotional once she realizes that all her dreams are finally coming true.
‘what a magical night’ she whispers to her publisher.
adam robinson tells the dj to stop the music so he can give a speech about someone who means so much to him.
sarah stops breathing before adam finishes his speech. he runs off the stage and begins administering cpr while an ambulance is called.
the doctors did everything they could but sarah couldn’t be resuscitated
there are theories about how she died but no one knows for sure. it was all very tragic and random especially since she was not yet 29
fact: her book had the longest stay atop the new york best sellers list of any women ever
there will never be another sarah jean alexander
edna parker is the craziest richard chiem fan there is. she’s on her way to his book signing to show him just how crazy she can be
richard chiem book signing:
valerie: hi rich, it’s an honor to meet you. i love your work
richard: thanks i appreciate your support
pedro: hey man. i’ve been reading your shit since 2011. you fucking rule
richard: wow. thanks for sticking around for so long
alex: this book is amazing
richard: that means alot to me man
shelby: i love you richard!
richard: haha i love you too
ricky: you are one of the greatest writers of your generation. congratulations to you and all your future success
richard: thanks for the kind words. it’s because of people like you who keep me going
erika: when are you writing your next book? i love your stuff mr. chiem
richard: i’m currently working on a couple of essays. feeling very inspired at the moment
erika: well that may be the best news i heard all month. thank you for signing my book and being awesome. you rock
richard: no problem. have a great day
tessa: you can do no wrong in my eyes. thanks for staying independent and not selling your soul to penguin
richard: haha thanks. staying independent was the best decision i ever made
sean: will you sign my face?
nate: i can’t believe the times didn’t like your novel
richard: fuck the times
nate: your the chillest writer i’ve ever met
richard: you’re the most awesome fan i’ve ever met
aubrey: can i get a picture with you richard. my entire family loves each and every one of your novels
richard: it would be my pleasure
edna: (brandishes gun. shoots richard in his chest)
richard: (clutches his chest in disbelief. stares at edna’s dead, unremorseful eyes. stops breathing. dies at age 35)
megan’s last blog
starting today, october 15, 2020, i will no longer be alive. right now in my life there is no one i talk to frequently enough that they would be upset by me exiting this shitty planet forever. the only person ‘keeping tabs’ on my life is me. as time has been passing i have been feeling an equally out-of-control sensation of my life not belonging to me or something, like it’s just this thing that’s happening, that i don’t seem to be participating in much, and so am sort of failing at it. i witness myself willfully allowing opportunities to fade away from me because i don’t follow through with the tasks necessary to make them happen, because for whatever reason, it is hard for me to make myself do things that i know will make me happy sometimes. i have no control over getting older so i want to put that power back into my hands. also i feel like my memory is deteriorating. i used to document my daily activities. i feel like that helped me remember things. i even liked doing that. lately i haven’t been feeling like the things i’m doing are worth remembering. but i feel like that could just be a mind trick and if i just start writing more again, i can convince myself those things are worth remembering and everything is basically the same as it was however many years ago it was when i felt more satisfied or hopeful or whatever it is i don’t feel now. **THIS IS NOT GOING TO BE INTERESTING** **I AM NOT GOING TO TRY TO MAKE THIS SOUND INTERESTING OR TRY TO MAKE YOU LIKE ME OR THINK ABOUT YOU IF YOU ARE READING THIS OR ENJOYING READING THIS, IT’S JUST GOING TO BE WHAT IT IS, IT’S NOT A FUNCTIONAL THING THAT WILL HOPEFULLY HELP ME FEEL MORE LIKE IMPROVING MYSELF. THERE WILL BE NO IMPROVING OF SELF BECAUSE I’M OFFING MYSELF. I WON’T ENJOY DOING IT IN THE SLIGHTEST EITHER. DEATH IS NOT SOME FUN SORT OF ENTERTAINMENT YOU FUCKS** recently this post became too big to edit as one long document. so post death, all new updates will appear on this page. the most recent ones will be at the bottom. every four days my ghost will archive the text on this page and continue to update here. no current plans to stop doing this. i ate a bunch of drugs so i could care less if any of what i’m say ing is understandable to you. thank you for reading
she meets tully in his apartment
tully doesn’t know this girl personally but he thought her photos on tinder were hot
as soon as she enters, her and tully begin making out
tully asks her if she brought the handcuffs
she says of course
tully is like you’re so hot
she’s all like duh
tully and her begin having sex next to an issue of pop serial
she congratulates tully on how successful pop serial has become in such a short time
tully says thank you and starts unbuttoning her blouse
she begins moaning
tully and her have sex
tully gives her a back massage
she begins moaning again
they have sex again
she walks naked to tully’s pent house balcony
tully follows her
they both do lots of drugs on tully’s balcony
she says things like your apartment is so fucking huge
tully compliments her sex game
she says things like you’re a great editor
tully begins kissing her
she says things like damn how can you afford a place this nice by just owning a magazine
tully says things like he also invests a lot in stocks and produces r&b on the side
she says things like let’s fuck again
tully says things like ok
tully follows her to his bed
they begin having sex
she begins moaning
she pulls out an ice pick and begins stabbing tully to death
tully thanks her while she stabs him wildly and blood stains his satin sheets
tully feels a sense of calm and euphoria
he’s happy that he’s dying young
age 22: works for nylon
age 23: quits working for nylon
age 24: publishes first novel
age 25: attempts suicide when her novel goes mostly unnoticed
age 26: decides to quit writing all together to focus on becoming an actress
age 27: wins role in indie film written and directed by alexander payne
age 28: wins a golden globe, screen actors guild award, critic’s choice award, and oscar for best supporting actress in a role for her work in the film
age 29: re-released her novel that no one bought when she was 24. it sold 1 million copies in 3 days
age 30: has an affair with ryan gosling
age 31: has ryan gosling’s baby
age 32: releases another successful novel as well as stars in kanye west’s first movie. the movie is a critical and box office failure but gabby still wins an oscar for best actress because at this point in her career she can do no wrong. lupita and meryl are pissed
33: releases a successful collection of ready to wear clothing
34: wins the cdfa award for fashion icon of the millennium beating out rihanna and blu ivy carter
35: becomes the first women to direct a movie on mars
36: her autobiography i’m just gabby is released and is loved by indie and mainstream literary enthusiasts
37: boards a plane to iceland for a talk on post feminism. dies when her private jet crashes into the atlantic ocean. both of her oscars are on the plane
sam pink went fucking crazy in 2017 and nobody could save him. this was around the time hundreds of chicagoans were dying daily, facebook’s stock plummeted, and lots of other weird shit happened that couldn’t’ve happened in 2014.
so wtf happened to sam pink and just why the fuck did he go crazy?
it kind of just happened one day and no one questioned it because in 2017 he seemed like the crazy type
not secretly crazy
fucking crazy crazy
it’s always the talented motherfuckers who go insane
sam pink was finally getting the notoriety he deserved
write ups in big name publications
thousands of books being sold
a documentary made about his cult status in the literature underground
money coming in from all directions
still he went crazy
and when true crazy happens
it just can’t be stopped
sam pink went on a shooting rampage that claimed the lives of 120 people
sam didn’t kill any kids because, according to his police confession, ‘kids are the only pure hearts left’
sam and his rifle took to the streets of new york about 30 minutes after a talk he gave at the new york public library. he killed 7 people on west 33rd street, 20 people on west 22nd street, hopped in a cab to williamsburg then killed 5 people on bedford ave, 45 people on n 6th st, then went to mccarren park and shot anyone who looked annoying to him
‘haha fuck williamsburg’ he was heard screaming according to eye witness lucas pinheiro who was also shot multiple times by sam
lucas died shortly after he gave his eye witness accounts
when the cops found sam, he was sipping a margarita at turkey’s nest watching the orioles defeat the mets
this is all pretty fucked huh?
everyone wanted to know why this happened
why would a promising up and coming writer sacrifice everything and go on a random killing spree?
why would he hang himself in his cell before his trial even began?
if you don’t know the answers to these questions then you never knew the real sam pink too well
what she wrote: 50 shades series
how she became famous: her books sold millions of copies and were turned into films
why she was insecure: because carolyn decarlo’s sex novels sold millions of copies and she didn’t have to sell her soul (i.e. she remained independent, no one thought her writing was cheesy)
how she died: sexual asphyxiation
what she wrote: erotic thrillers including her most famous addicted
how she became famous: wrote a sequel to addicted that sold millions of copies and was turned into a movie starring beyonce
why she was jealous of carolyn: because she was friends with beyonce and didn’t have to beg her to be in a movie
how she died: surfbort accident
what she wrote: 10 sexual ass books
how she became famous: all her books sold millions of copies each and none of them were turned into movies because she wanted to keep her integrity intact while remaining independent. her 7th book,sex on a stick won the national book prize for fiction. her 9th book, more sex, won another national book prize. her 2nd book, fucking 101, didn’t win any prizes but beyonce read it and wanted to be friends with carolyn immediately
why she didn’t pay attention to the haters: because she continued living in new zealand even after she accrued fame and its pretty hard to pay attention to haters when your surrounded by kiwis and beautiful landscapes
how she died: carolyn was at home chopping kale and rapping along to lil kim’s verse on ‘get money’. while chopping quickly, one of her friends began tapping on her kitchen window. carolyn looked up, smiled, and without looking sliced into her left wrist. her friend tried coming into the kitchen to help her, but caro was a celebrity and celebrities don’t allow regular folk to enter their kitchens so easily. caro’s friend watched as blood spewed all over the kitchen and dialed an ambulance as caro tried to stop the bleeding. she was not successful. carolyn decarlo died at 35 years old. she passed away as the most decorated sex writer of all time. as expected, beyonce sang a rousing acapella version of ‘halo’ at her funeral.
random facebook status updates:
damn, heiko julien died? wtf
what’s gonna happen to heiko’s unfinished ebook now that he’s dead
i wonder how heiko died
i heard heiko killed himself
i heard heiko got himself killed
i heard heiko killed someone then killed himself
i heard heiko killed someone while he was killing himself
damn, heiko was only 27 when he died
i wish heiko was 27 when he died. that would’ve been more epic
dying at 27 is so alt lit lol
now that heiko’s dead, everyone is pretending to like his stuff. i hate fake ppl yo
im gonna miss heiko so much. he was so prolific on the internet and stuff
in tears cause i just learned that heiko died. i can’t even with this news
i’m sad that heiko’s dead but i understand why he did it i guess
why heiko gotta die though?
lol heiko julien is dead. i’m happy about this because i’m one of his haters
heiko was super weird but he shouldn’tve died
heiko julien is now a dead ass celebrity
heiko’s writing is so much better to me now that he’s dead
damn heiko julien, i thought we’d meet and do at least one drug before you died
r.i.p heiko julien. idk who you were, but everyone on my feed is talking about you
heiko didn’t die. this is just what the illuminati wants you to believe. smh
watching heiko’s old videos and crying at my desk. gonna miss that guy
heiko’s gonna kill it in the afterlife
anyone who was aware of mira gonzalez knew that she was going to be a famous author. it was so obvious. she had the it factor and everyone around her knew it. everyone fucking knew that shit. 2015 was the year of mira gonzalez. only 23 and she was the writer of the moment. funny tweets. beautiful. self-deprecating. hilarious. genius. she had all the qualities of making it big. that’s why it sucks that brad listi accidentally killed her. it was so random and never should’ve happened. if you would like to know how it happened please continue reading. if you would not like to know how it happened then please stop reading now because what you are about to read is extremely graphic and disturbing.
ok so if you made it this far then you have chosen the latter. here is an explanation of how mr listi killed one of the best writers of her generation:
brad had mira over for dinner the day after her second book of poetry was released. everyone was raving about it and brad especially loved reading it and was happy that mira seemed to be at a good place in her life. after dinner, brad asked mira what they should do next
brad: what should we do next?
mira: let’s play russian roulette
brad usually agreed to everything mira said because he loved joining in on what the kids were doing. he also never knew if mira was being serious or fucking with him which was, unfortunately, bad for mira because this time she was wasn’t fucking with him at all. she and brad played their little game and brad ended up shooting mira in the head. it looked as if she died instantly and brad was completely freaked out so he began chopping her body into itty bitty pieces. mira was still kind of alive while brad was chopping her up into pieces but she didn’t make a sound because she wanted her death to be epic and she thought her screaming or saying ‘ouch’ would ruin her death narrative. plus she was only 23 when she died and that’s such a cool age to go. that’s four years before kurt cobains death, 13 years before marilyn monroe’s death, 27 years before michael jackson’s death and 62 years before shirley temple’s death. mira got so excited thinking these thoughts that she sort of laughed but brad didn’t hear her because that’s when he began sawing off her legs. while brad sawed off her legs, mira thought about how 23 would be the new cool age to die and 27 would now be the uncool age to die. brad was thinking none of these things because he’s the one who killed mira and chopped her up in a fit of shock and confusion. brad did not want to go to jail because that would mean he wouldn’t see his family but more importantly, he wouldn’t be able to do his podcast anymore. in the not so distant future, brad’s podcast (other people) will become the most famous podcast in the united states so you could see why brad wouldn’t want to give up his livelihood to be somebody’s prison bitch.
blood was all over brad’s living room when someone who’s related to brad walked in and screamed in the most ear splitting way possible. unfortunately brad had to kill this person as well. as soon as the person who’s related to him screamed, brad thought of them testifying against him in court. and testifying in court meant no more podcast so they had to fucking go. brad shot them in the head and continued getting his chop on with @miragonz’s body. mira was barely alive when brad killed the person he was related to. she was kind of annoyed that she was not the only one getting killed on that fateful day but came to grips with it as soon as she realized that she was the more famous out of the two getting killed. the media loved talking about celebrity deaths more than basic bitch deaths so mira faded into black knowing her legacy was intact. brad then chopped mira’s head off and began crushing her severed head with his left foot. he also ate a little bit of mira’s tongue just to see what she tasted like. haha what a sick fuck.
brad was captured by police 10 days later while he was recording his podcast near the mexican border. his last interview was with himself.
lora norton, mira’s mom, was wearing a dalai lama t shirt as she shot brad listi multiple times as he entered the courtroom for the trial of her daughter’s death. she was not charged.
mira gonzalez (poet, internet fixture) died at the age of 23. her body was found buried 20 miles from mr. listi’s mcmansion. her edited tweets will be on display at musée du louvre for the next couple of decades.
jereme was sitting in his barber’s chair getting a shave when his barber slit his throat.
‘that’s what you get for asking me to shave your epic beard as well as for no longer frequenting htmlgiant motherfucker’ the barber/independant literature enthusiast whispered in jereme’s ear as he bled to death.
case number: 020930197
date: 13 august 2021
reporting officer: arthur james
prepared by: william prodigal
incident type: botched robbery
address of occurrence: 1800 w olympic blvd, los angeles,ca 90006
witnesses: scott hill: store owner. male, 57, african american
martin: employee. male, 21, caucasian
erica hernandez: customer. female, 77, latin american
evidence: fingerprints (taken from door, counter, alexander’s neck),
on august 17, 2021, at approximately 17:38, two unidentified males entered a 7-eleven convenience store and stole $700 from the register at gunpoint. the store’s security camera recorded the incident as one man pointed a handgun at store owner scott hill while the other man gestured threateningly while demanding that alexander give him the money in his wallet. ‘two guys came in with masks and a gun,’ hill said in his witness statement, “and one started yelling at us to give him the money.’ hill was running the store with the help of martin, his employee. hill described the suspects as middle-aged, white dudes, both wearing leather jackets, jeans, and ski masks.The only customer in the store was erica hernandez, who heard the robbery taking place but did not see it as she was in the store restroom at the time. after obtaining the money from the register, the two suspects began demanding that alexander give them all his money, his diamond watch, and the keys to his maserati that was parked directly in front of 7-11. the parking lot had been painted earlier that afternoon, and alexander’s new whip looked cool against the drying paint. alex refused to give up his shit and that’s when the two masked men began pistol whipping him. alexander, who took up jiu jjtsu as a hobby after his third successful novel was released, did not go down without a fight. he managed to get the gun of one of the masked assailants and shot them 4 times in the face, killing them instantly. officer james arrived on the scene at around 18:15, responding to hill’s 911 call. after reviewing the security footage, officer james noticed that the armed suspect was leaning over the counter and trying to ask alexander for his autograph while he was getting pistol whipped. typical. fingerprints were captured from the counter and sent to the forensics lab for analysis. alexander did the best he could but he ended up taking three bullets to the gut. he was rushed to mount sinai hospital where he laid on his death bed for 7 days. his final manuscript, which was in his maserati, mysteriously disappeared at the time of the robbery.
11 days after lucy and kanye’s wedding:
‘i love you’ says kanye
‘i love you too’ says lucy
‘we’ve finally joined forces’ says kanye
‘yes, we have. our wedding was so lovely’ says lucy
‘it was better than me and kim’s. it got way more likes on instagram’ says kanye
‘haha great’ says lucy
‘kim was wack anyway. she was inauthentically shabby. you’re authentically shabby babe’ says kanye
‘yes she was quite unstylish. it’s a shame really’ says lucy
‘it really is’ says kanye
‘what do we do now that we’re married?’ says lucy
‘let’s go shopping. phoebe philo’s spring collection is super shabby’ says kanye
‘i’m tired of shopping. all we’ve done is shop since we got married. plus i’m tired of everyone coming up to us asking for autographs. i don’t have time for these bitches’ says lucy
‘haha, you’re so funny babe’ says kanye
‘i love it when you call me babe. me and my ex used to say that two each other’ says lucy
‘which ex?’ says kanye
‘chris’ says lucy
‘i didn’t know you dated anyone named chris’ kanye says
‘yea, we broke up right before i met you’ says lucy
‘oh’ a visibly angry kanye says
‘babe, don’t get angry’ says lucy
‘babe, don’t call me babe. i had no idea you were dating anyone before me. now i find out it was chris? you must be talking about the avant garde artist correct?’ says kanye
‘yes. but i know you think he’s more avant garde than you. that’s why i kept it a secret. i didn’t want you to get upset yeezus’ says lucy
‘stop calling me by my favorite pet names! i can’t believe you dated chris. he’s like basquiat, helmet newton and me combined. he’s so fucking avant garde that you marrying me is a downgrade. kanye west can’t be associated with the word downgrade’ kanye says
‘just calm down. i love you. i haven’t been in love with chris for years. let’s just forget this happened and go do some shopping. i want to buy you something really cool and shabby’ says lucy
‘chris looks way better in shabby gear than me’ kanye says while grabbing a knife
‘babe, stop. you’re over reacting. put the knife down and let’s talk about this’ lucy says
‘stop calling me babe!’ kanye says while stabbing lucy in the chest repeatedly
lucy tried running away from kanye but he followed her around their london mansion continuously stabbing her. she screamed. she pleaded. she said she loved him over and over again but kanye would not let up. anytime lucy opened her mouth kanye would get more angry and stab her again. he just couldn’t shake the fact that lucy had been with someone more avant garde than him. and if you know kanye, he takes his art very seriously.
cut to two days later and kanye somehow convinced authorities that lucy killed herself. at her funeral in yorkshire, chris, who was still having an intense love affair with lucy up until her death, gave the most heart-warming, avant garde eulogy that has ever been spoken aloud. kanye, who sat in the front row with lucy’s family, began plotting ways to murder chris without getting caught.
guillaume killed himself at 30 something years of age
guillaume fell into a deep depression
he was a 30 something
he was deeply depressed
guillaume wanted out of this life
even though he was one of the few people
who made millions just from selling books
it was a very tough road for guillaume
prior to him hanging himself that is
his classic book new tab was released years ago
and did ok but it didn’t make guillaume any millions
he was soon living in squalor
and became addicted to crank
even though he was at a very low point in his life
guillaume still looked great because
artists tend to always look somewhat hot
no matter how poor or drug addicted they are
he lived like this for about 4.5 years
during this period
tumblr starting becoming cool again
and everyone started to discuss
how amazing new tab was
where was guillaume they said?
why did he disappear they said?
i saw him on the streets of montreal
he looked homeless and hot they said
guillaume did not know any of this was
occurring because he was too fucked up to
know that he was the most famous writer
one day (while he was on a drug binge)
guillaume came across himself on tumblr
guillaume bought most of his drugs online
he still found solace in the internet even though
he used it to mostly get high
guillaume saw all the stuff people were saying about him
it made him feel good
it made him feel less alone
a couple of years later guillaume was back to feeling down
he made all of this money
had all this fame
but for some reason
still felt like shit
he didn’t want to do drugs again even though
everyone thought he was handsome while he was on them
he wanted to just die this time
guillaume hatched out a plan to hang himself
he asked his lover to buy him all the tools he needed
to make this possible and she did
she was a very impressionable lover
guillaume’s lover found guillaume hanging from
the ceiling of his bedroom
how sad this is
guillaume shouldn’t have went out like this
his lover shouldn’tve bought these killing tools
30 something years of age
he was incredibly depressed
he left no suicide note
in 6 ways, tws gives up the ghost
adina howard and timothy willis sanders’ fling lasted about 6 months. adina liked timothy because he was smart, thoughtful, and gentle. timothy liked adina because she was a freak in the morning as well as in the evening. on july 11, 2018, while adina was taking timothy around the hood like a gangsta lean, timothy had a heart attack and died. adina was exponentially less freaky after his passing.
timothy gave a talk at sxsw in march of 2015. that just so happened to be the day a mentally ill man opened fire and killed everyone on the panel as well as those who were in the audience. well actually there was one survivor. she was pissed timothy never signed her book.
moving to spain was the worst decision that t.w.s ever made. sure he was having lots of sex, selling a shitload of books, and survived his most recent scandal (a secret love affair with michelle obama), but moving to spain was something he should’ve never done. on april 1, 2016, while he was eating a decadent croissant and sipping orange juice, he stopped breathing and just sort of died. most people believe that spain had something to do with this.
why the hell did timothy willis sanders become a drug kingpin in texas you ask? well the answer is simple: he wanted to start a small press and needed fast money. timothy had connects all over texas. from port arthur to austin, everybody feared and respected the man who pushed weight as well as quirky chapbooks. this was around the time when the majority of the population stopped watching breaking bad due to timothy making heisenberg look like an amateur. on december 7th, 2019 while tim was editing his ebook about cocaine, his maid slit his throat and stole $100,000 from his safe. the world couldn’t believe mr. sanders went out like omar.
we are in the not so distant future. timothy’s train derailed and then he died. the pretty woman, who timothy just had sex with in the train’s bathroom, survived. she told reporters that timothy’s love making skills, as well as matt meets vik, were on point.
the world will end in two years and t.w.s will be one of the billions of earthlings who perish. tim won’t really give a shit because everyone he knows and doesn’t know will be dying with him
broder (just because)
‘i look really cool’ melissa broder says as she stares at her corpse
melissa died a couple of minutes ago and now she’s staring at her dead body. describing melissa’s death would be fun but it was super violent and grotesque so let’s just focus on how awesome her corpse looks
‘damn, how hot do i look right now?’ ghost melissa broder says
melissa’s hot, naked body is laying on the side of an abandoned road in a place that looks eerie. no one knows that melissa has died which is weird because..idk..it just is
‘i wish i could tweet about my sweet ass death’ melissa broder says
damn, that would be sweet. imagine if you could read the tweets of your favorite dead tweeter. melissa’s after life tweets would be epic as fuck
‘i can’t believe this is how i went out. what the hell to i do now?’ ghost melissa thinks aloud
when you die, you immediately become a ghost. after you become a ghost, the notorious b.i.g. meets you at your funeral and let’s you know who killed him and tupac. after you digest this mind blowing information, biggie smalls asks you if you would like to go to heaven or hell
‘what’s the difference between heaven and hell?’ melissa broder says to biggie
‘hell is more fun’ biggie says ‘everybody’s goth and the weed is better’
melissa immediately hops on a freight train to hell and that’s how this story ends.
his face paint is on. his hair is wild and whimsical and unruly like his reading style. he’s reading some of the best poetry he’s ever written. the crowd goes wild. mike is in his element and when he’s in his element you can’t tell him nothing. martin wall has some gifts that he wants you to become privy too. he doesn’t do this shit for his health. he’s here to enlighten you. give the brethren and sistren some knowledge on this thing here called poetics. yea, martin mike bushnell wall is down for the almighty cause. now he’s standing on a chair and getting all up in your face. right in your grill. his voice is louder than it was previously. his face paint is starting to drip because he’s overheating due to him giving his all. the crowd is enjoying this. they’ve never seen poetry done this way. they realize that when it comes to a live performance, mr. bushnell is the best in the game. remember when ohso was released? of course you do. mike worked on it for years and now it’s that new classic. it brought poetry back. returned to the masses. salisbury bushnell was on the cover of time magazine. he was their person of the year. he is the undisputed poetry king. these other people write novels but not salisbury. oh no. not he. you think he got to the top and is reading at carnegie by abandoning his poetic craft? novelist please. yea, there’s a bunch of famous motherfuckers in the audience. this is probably mike’s biggest reading. he is the only headliner. his face paint does not outshine his poetry. it only adds to the intensity of his genius. goddman. bill clinton is in the audience. he’s really into what his eyes are seeing. mike doesn’t see bill at all. he’s too busy being a fucking boss up there reciting his heart out. well damn, what’s happening now? mike is starting to slur his words. ‘haha’ someone from the cast of eerie indiana says thinking this is part of mike’s performance. this is not part of mike’s performance at all. he keeps repeating the same sentence over and over again. he can’t get the words to come out of his mouth properly. mike falls to the ground and the crowd begins to cheer. michael jordan can’t wait to hang out with mike after he gets off the ground so he can pick his brain. mike leaves the ground but it’s with the aide of paramedics. he had a stroke. sometimes when you give your all in a performance, it just might kill you.
some of you may or may not know that janey fucked (or got fucked by) a bunch of people and had tons of fun while doing so. unfortunately, little does janey know that right now someone he fucked (or got fucked by) is on their way to kill him.
janey fucked (or got fucked by) the wrong person and now she’s about to get confronted by a fucked in the head killer.
janey is writing what was supposed be the novel that made her famous. this is happening right now. if this novel was ever released, then janey would have been one of the most famous writers in the world. she would of made millions and would also have gone down in history as one of the greatest innovators that ever lived. but none of this will come to pass because it’s summer 2014 and janey smith is about to be a dead ass writer.
this person that janey fucked (or got fucked by) is a serial killer. how could janey think she could fuck all those people without one of them catching feelings or wanting to strangle her to death????
like, come on janey. you can’t fuck (or get fucked by) that many people without there being consequences.
this serial killer writer wants to murder janey because that’s just what serial killers do. there’s no real reason that they want to kill janey besides feeling the rush of watching the life get sucked out of a person’s eyes while they die. they also want to do sexual things to janey’s dead body afterwords.
right now, in san francisco, janey is putting his classic novel together while the serial killer walks into his home clutching that thing javier bardem used to kill people with in no country for old men. janey has no idea that someone wants him dead. he thinks he’s just going to write more of his novel, edit a post for htmlgiant, masturbate, then go out for drinks with his amigos. he doesn’t even make it to the masturbation stage, when the person he sexed (or got sexed by) enters his boudoir.
they put the no country for old men thingy behind janey’s head. janey freezes and stops writing one of the best sentences that any writer has ever written.
janey: why are you doing this?
person janey fucked (or got fucked by): because i’m a fucking serial killer. i get off doing shit like this
janey: how did you find out my address? it’s not even listed
person janey fucked (or got fucked by): you screamed it out when we fucked
janey: why did i do that?
person janey fucked (or got fucked by): idk man. maybe you shouldn’tve done that
janey: so this is how it ends for me. this is how i’m going to meet my demise
person janey fucked (or got fucked by): yup
janey: someone who i had intercourse with is going to kill me with some ridiculous looking device
person janey fucked (or got fucked by): yea. if you put it that way, i guess you’re correct
janey: sex with you wasn’t that great btw
person janey fucked (or got fucked by): huh
janey: yea, you were screaming way too much and you were really sweaty and you drooled a lot. i actually hated it
as soon as janey says this, the serial killer weirdo puts the freaky machine thingy to their head, pulls the trigger and instantly dies.
janey realizes that this is the way that she’s supposed to go and does the same thing that the person she fucked (or got fucked by) just did.
good luck trying to find a moral to this story.
a year from now: beach sloth is living in alaska and working an anonymous job. he still updates his blog frequently and is nice to everyone he speaks with on the internet. when he’s not working his anonymous job or giving an alt lit person props for something alt lit related, beach sloth heads his local alaskan curling team. most alaskans are curlers because, like, what else is there to do in alaska?
two years from now: beach sloth is living in south africa doing missionary work. he still updates his blog, but not as frequently. theo thimo wonders why beach sloth isn’t boosting as much as he used to. beach sloth is getting more irl and his internet stans just don’t know how to deal. beach sloth finds his mission work rewarding and doesn’t give a fuck about updating his blog 24/7 anymore. ‘where the hell is beach sloth’ writes theo thimo on some popular social media site from 2 years from now. it gets 20,000 faves.
six years from now: beach sloth has completely unplugged from the internet and is broke and destitute. he lives somewhere hella mysterious and has forgotten that he once reigned supreme as the anonymous king of obscure literature and music reviews. beach sloth, like a lot of people, fell on tough times once the world went into a depression. he lost his mansion, his money, and his hot wife who just so happened to be anonymous as well. a typical day for beach sloth includes: staring into space, thinking of new ways to make money, crying over the loss of his wife and three children and, worst of all, not going on the internet.
eight years from now: beach sloth dies of a broken heart. his body isn’t recovered for 2 weeks because no one was aware he was still alive
ten years from now: beach sloth is more famous then ever even though he’s dead. it’s a shame he wasn’t appreciated like this when he was alive
man #1: i’m starving
man #2: me too. no time to eat though
man #1: you should’ve stopped at mcdonalds before we got here. we passed a bunch of them
man #2: i already told you that we don’t have time. we have a mission to accomplish
man #1: ugh i’m so hungry. i hate doing missions on an empty stomach
man #2: do you ever shut the fuck up?
man #1: when i’m hungry, no
sometime after the release of black cloud, juliet escoria retired. her book sold lots of copies, she got famous, and she took her money and ran. she moved to a peaceful town and only wrote an essay here and there, her most famous essay being ‘dumb bitch.’ most days juliet didn’t even bother to write. most days she’d just go on a hike or watch a movie or do nothing at all. the juliet escoria of the future is a lot different from the juliet escoria of 2014.
man #1: jesus christ. when are we going to do this? i need to eat before i pass out. i hate missing meals
man #2: all you do is complain. how are we partners even? how did i get to this point?
man #1: do you think red lobster is still open?
one of julia’s favorite snacks: doritos. she ate doritos a lot after she retired but she never lost her figure because of her flawless genes. she’d go for a swim in her pool, towel herself off, then eat a bag of doritos. her blood pressure and cholesterol were on point as well which is rare. doctors were perplexed but julia wasn’t because she was used to stuff always turning out well for her.
man #1: do you believe in god?
man #2: only if you stop talking about food
julia’s favorite place to spend time was in her kitchen. she had these really comfortable chairs and she’d sit indian style on one of them and read a good book and that’s exactly what she was doing when man #1 and #2 broke into her home.
man #1: i really don’t want to kill this girl. she seems nice enough. can’t we just get some donuts or some other delicious pastries?
(man #2 pistol whips man #1)
man #2: we’re fucking doing this, so cut the bullshit. we’re getting $10,000 to off this bitch so if you back down, you’re getting one in the head
man #1: god, ok. but were getting some chinese food after we get rid of the body
man #1 and man #2 broke into juliet esoria’s home in hopes of murdering her. someone wanted her dead and put up lots of money to make it happen. they tied her up, yelled expletives at her and shot her multiple times. well actually man #2 shot her multiple times while man #1 ate julia’s doritos.
man #1: damn, did we really have to do that? she never did nothing to nobody and look at how she ended up
man #2: don’t let looks fool you bro. she was one of the biggest mob bosses in the world. her last name is escoria which is an obvious mob affiliation last name. she murdered and put hits on the best of them including my last partner. she pushed more weight than frank lucas and noriega combined. how else do you think the girl afforded such a luxurious lifestyle?
man #1: selling books?
man #2: (slowly bites into a big mac) you have a lot to learn about this game kid
noah hopes that everything goes well for him but things aren’t looking too hot.
not looking too hot for him at all
he’s connected to a whole bunch of machines and doctors and nurses are taking a bunch of tests and his vitals are all types of fucked up and the guy can barely breath. he’s one in 10,000 americans who are infected with the ebola virus and this outbreak is spreading quickly
that one doctor with ebola was transferred to that one hospital in atlanta that one summer and that never should’ve happened because the disease escaped the hospital and somehow found it’s way to the last great american novelist: noah cicero
noah does not want to die. nor do any of the people who read his stuff want him to die. nor do the doctors and nurses who are treating him want him to die
out of all the people that are infected with ebola, noah is the most famous and revered so his health status is obviously getting the most press
they’re live updates on twitter about how noah is doing
the pope writes a prayer specifically for noah and posts it on the vatican’s tumblr page
there are thousands of candle light vigils held in south korea and youngstown as well
still, three years after the summer that ebola found it’s way over to the land of the free and home of the brave, noah cicero dies with grace and dignity
ebola kills about 5,000 more people in the coming months but their death are insignificant
look at him. lying on the concrete. skull smashed in. blood all over his face. a good portion of his teeth missing. his body mangled. look at him. look at this guy. 33 years old. dead as dead can be. clothes tattered. eyes lifeless. people pointing. people taking photos. people instagraming. lol, yea right. like instagram will still be a thing more than 10 years from now. wtf man. why’d you have to go out like this, huh? you were still young. you had your whole life ahead of you. so what if you became an addict and squandered all your money in your late 20’s. in your 30’s shit was on the up and up. you finally started writing again, and guess what? people still gave a damn. you were once an ironic boy genius but now you were a grown man. a grown man with some stories to tell. a grown man now dead for a stupid reason. you should’ve wore a helmet. why you chose to not wear a helmet on the day you died is a mystery to most. the helmet could’ve saved your life. could’ve bought you a little more time. after you revamped your press, and started publishing other people again, everyone started looking at you in a different way. you weren’t the guy who spent book advances on your growing heroin habit. nope. you turned over a new leaf. remember that time you overdosed in a bathroom somewhere in wburg? remember that time you overdosed somewhere else in some other ny borough? well, guess these questions shouldn’t be asked to you now cause your dead. that truck hit you head on and you died immediately. it’s hard to even recognize you after the hell that truck put you through. spencer, you shouldn’t be dead right now. you had so much more to give. so many more books to write. so many more authors to publish. goddamn, it’s always the good ones that go before their time.
she did not scream
she did not flail
she did not attempt to do anything
she just accepted her fate
this was the moment when she
was supposed to die
she could feel it in her bones
she knew her time had come
it felt right enough
what a great life she led
so many books published
so many people she inspired
her life was marvelous
her tweets didn’t get to the root of who
she really was
those were just a put on
who she really was inside was much more
ms. tiven gave it her all in this life
so what if she had 5 bentleys?
she worked hard to buy those
it’s not like she didn’t share the wealth
with her family and friends
her motto was
‘no fucks given’
she understands that she did her best
and that’s all that she could do
she lived hard
she laughed harder
she moved so much
and moved others
this was her way of paying her debts
back to society
she felt her chest tightening up
the air leaving her lungs
she hoped something happened
something cool and exciting
like she would be reincarnated
as her favorite animal
she hoped her internet identity would remain intact
look at this dumb motherfucker lying on the duces wild bathroom floor. stupid dumb motherfucker. you thought you could talk shit about scott and get away with it? you thought just because you had a gang of all your brain dead friends with you that scott wouldn’t take you to task? what is it with these tough guys who think they’re about that life? cannot believe this pinhead, douchebag thought he had a fighting chance. haha look at you now idiot. dead in a goddamn bathroom because you fucked with the wrong one.
on top of the bar is the pin head’s dead girlfriend. she tried to stab scott in the head with her pitiful pocket knife. stupid girl. scott has eyes in the back of his head. he knew what you were gonna do before you even came up with the stupid idea to even do it. all those bullets in your head. bullets gone wild in your cranium. you could’ve fucking been somebody if you didn’t date that dead imbecile guy in the bathroom.
this 79 year old man’s head is almost decapitated because he thought that he could go toe to toe with mister mcclanahan. god, dying in this manner is not a good look at all. you made it this far and you couldn’t even die with dignity. that shit is sad bro. weren’t you in the klan back in ’66? well nevermind then, you’re probably just better off dead.
next to klansman is klansman’s dimwit son and next to his dimwit son is his crazy, overbearing dimwit boyfriend. all stupid dead dimwits who were a waste of space. good riddance i say.
aw fuck, the camera is zooming in on scott mcclanahan’s bullet riddled body. he’s dead and took out a good amount of folks before he made it to the big 4-0. but what did the fine cops of beckley think would happen when their biggest celebrity came home to visit and the beckley citizen’s didn’t welcome him back with open arms? all he wanted was a goddamn beer. all he wanted was a piece of the wv normality he was missing now that he was dubbed ‘mr. hollywood.’ all those people in those bars fucking with him and heckling him and telling him he wasn’t shit just cause he made millions by being a beast with the pen. when that first idiot pointed a gun at scott, he had to defend himself. mr. holler books was not going out like a sucker at all.
he killed every imbecile in that bar and had a grin on his face when he strangled that last cretin to death with his bare hands.
‘come out of the bar scott’ yelled the police
‘come out with your hands up’ yelled the police
‘scott, please don’t do anything stupid’ yelled the police
scott picked up the gun of some dude he killed and walked slowly towards s. fayette st. he decided that if he wasn’t gonna write another book of fiction before he died, he’d kill a pig or two.
the crime rate in wellington rose substantially after the earthquake the city experienced in 2026. it’s infrastructure was damaged so badly and so many people died, that most of the city’s residents gave up and just moved away. jackson didn’t want to leave at all. this was his home and there was no other place he’d rather live than in that specific part of the world.
after jackson’s wife died unexpectedly a couple of years earlier, he fell into a deep depression and started drinking heavily. he’d start the day off with whiskey, devour a pack of bud light for lunch, then go to a local bar and guzzle whatever alcoholic beverage that was in his eyeline. when his wife passed, jackson’s favorite thing to do was numb his pain whichever way he could.
prior to his downward spiral, jackson made a living as a teacher and as an author. he published 2 novels and three books of poetry and they enjoyed moderate success. he was happy that he could make a living doing what he loved and that he didn’t have to be super famous to do it.
jackson stopped writing and teaching completely after his wife passed. all he did was drink and stare into empty space. it’s the only way he knew how to cope with the cards that had been dealt to him.
first he lost custody of his child, isabella, then he lost his home, then he lost his publishing deal. the earthquake occurred soon after all of this and jackson, who was once touted as the man who put nz literature on the map, began begging for change on cuba street.
sometimes people would notice who he was and they’d give him some money or buy him a beer or two. other times people would shake their heads and wonder why he couldn’t pick himself up by the boot straps and start writing again.
on the day jackson died, he indeed started writing again. he began staying with a friend who convinced him to ween himself off of alcohol and finally get his life together.
jackson was writing a story about his love of literature, wellington and his late wife when he died. his friend found him the next day with his head on top of his vintage typewriter and a bottle of jack daniels clutched in his right hand.
tao lin’s gonna overdose and die in his 30s. seems obvious.
cameron pierce died and came back as a giant lobster. everybody was expecting this because, lol, what else would cameron pierce come back as after he died?cameron died because one of his haters poisoned a jelly donut he was eating. cameron’s haters knew he ate jelly donuts every morning before he worked on his elegant prose and his biggest hater, solange knowles, took this not so secret info and injected some cheap poison into portland’s best writer’s jelly donut. solange just so happened to be in portland that day doing something extremely non beyonce-esque so no one suspected her. also just so you know: solange attacked jay z in that elevator because jay z told solange that cameron’s fiction was beautiful.
gdi, cameron didn’t even know he was dying while he was eating his donut. the jelly donuts he ate were so delicious that he couldn’t even detect the poisonous solange poison that was in the decadent ass donut he devoured.
when cameron died no one in the world was pissed or sad all. cameron, who’s will was posted on his blog’s homepage, explicitly stated that if he just so happened to die because either beyonce or solange or somebody else associated with beyonce or solange (i.e. jay z, matthew knowles, tina knowles, blu ivy carter, gwenyth paltrow etc.) poisoned him and he died because of it then the world should not mourn him. instead, cameron wanted a giant dance party thrown in his honor. so instead of crying or being angry that their beloved writer of bizzaro perished by donut, the world threw a giant dance party for cameron. everybody broke out their freshest gear and twerked their hearts out for big baby cameron pierce. all of cameron’s favorite songs were played which pissed of solange because she hated cameron’s taste in music.
so yea, 3 days later cameron rose again as a giant lobster. everybody thought he was super chill and loved how intimidating he was now. unfortunately cameron couldn’t write anymore because he now had super freaky lobster claws. solange was super pumped about this. the end
christoper higgs died after he read this sentence.
michael j seidlinger
michael’s birthday party was a real success. he couldn’t believe everybody showed up to celebrate his 40th year of birth. usually when michael invited people to things, not everyone would show up, which kinda sucked in michael’s eyes but this time, everyone did. mind you, everyone who showed up to michael’s 40th birthday party didn’t go to at least 5 of the events that he posted on facebook but he was willing to forgive them since this time they all showed up to give him love and support. after about 7 hours of dancing, popping champagne, and doing impromptu poetry readings, everyone was ready to hear michael give his birthday speech. ‘speech’ someone said.’speech’ another person yelled. ‘speech!’ another drunk idiot screamed. michael made his way to the center of the party and grabbed the microphone to make his speech. then, almost immediately, he got incredibly angry. here he was, at his own birthday party giving a speech in front of a group of people who didn’t have the common decency to rsvp to one of his past events. why did he even invite these people to his party anyway? most of them just showed up because he was now a successful writer and was throwing a huge bash at his multi million dollar place of living. ‘speech!’ the entire party appeared to be yelling now. michael put his finger to his lips to shush the crowd and gave them what they wanted. ‘thank you all for coming’ he said even though he was far from thankful. ‘i can’t believe you all showed up to celebrate this day with me. i’ve been running my press for awhile now, as you all know, and i’ve had the pleasure of getting to know you guys on personal and professional levels. all of you are truly remarkable individuals’ michael said while appearing to choke back tears. ‘if it wasn’t for you guys there’d be no me. so from the bottom of my heart, i want to say that i love each and every one of you and you mean the world to me.’ the entire party applauded michael after he was finished and he received multiple high fives and ‘i love you bro’ statements. after this, michael left the party for about two hours and guests began wondering where he was. soon, he returned, grabbed the mic and told the party that he had to make another special speech. ‘hey guys’ michael began saying ‘i just wanted to let you know that even though you mean the world to me, and i love you all, i’m going to have to kill each and every one of you before the cake is served.’ michael then took a machine gun out of his bag and began spraying bullets into the crowd. the first to get kilt was tara wray. ‘you didn’t come to one of my roof top readings’ michael said while shooting her in her tummy. ‘fuck you spencer. you never liked my status that one time’ michael said while shooting spencer madsen. ‘die slow’ michael said to jereme dean while shooting him in the head. ‘long kiss goodnight motherfucker’ michael whispered into jordan castro’s ear after he killed him. ‘i should’ve done this when you didn’t come to my book launch. it was a very successful book launch!’ michael screamed at ana carrete while shooting her in the face. ‘youth knows no pain’ he said while murdering gabby bess. heiko julien tried running for the exit, but michael shot him in the back before he made it too far. alexander j allison flew in from england just to come to michael’s birthday celebration and got shot in the dome as a result. ‘don’t do this’ luna miguel said while dying. keegan crawford walked out of the bathroom and was immediately shot. the same thing happened to stephen tully dierks who was exiting a different bathroom. lucy k shaw knew she couldn’t escape this situation so she took one last sip of her energy drink before michael took her life. after lucy, michael killed richard chiem (died while not attempting to tweet) then he killed mira gonzalez (died while thinking about her unpublished tweet drafts). ‘fuck you’ michael heald screamed after michael seidlinger shot him in the leg. michael seidlinger didn’t like being cursed at so he kept shooting michael heald until he was unable to use profanity. oh crispin, why did you think you could say something quirky to michael without ending up dead. oh michael, why did you kill steve roggenbuck before he released another volume of the yolo pages. oh chelsea martin and guillaume morissette, why did you still have those apathetic looks on your faces even while bullets were piercing through your bodily organs. beach sloth just so happened to reveal his identity that day so it was easy for michael to spot and kill him. ‘i can’t believe you just fucking killed beach sloth. beach sloth was the nicest guy ever’ scott mcclanahan screamed while wearing and dying in his beach sloth t shirt. diana salier never sent michael a galley of wikipedia says it will pass. she died as a result. after giving diana what she deserved, michael shot sam pink for personal reasons. after shooting sam pink for a personal reason he shot andrew worthington because he was in vogue and michael always wanted to be in vogue. if you’re keeping score, so far about 26 writers have died at the hands of mr. seidlinger. all of this occurred inside michael’s home. the people who were gathered outside had no idea what was going on inside because they snuck off to have a secret party by michael’s pool. when michael got outside to see if there were any more people to off and spotted that ungrateful crowd of writers enjoying his backyard area without him, he pushed a drunk laura marie marciano into his pool (she drowned), then he shot willis plummer in the chest. next up was carolyn decarlo. michael killed her for a really petty reason. michael didn’t kill timothy willis for a petty reason though. michael killed timothy for a very unpetty reason. juliet escoria was hiding behind a bush when michael shot her. andrew worthington was attempting to hide behind tao lin when michael shot andrew multiple times. michael then shot tao in both of his legs then kicked him in his pool. janey smith pleaded for her life before taking 7 to the gut. michael shot noah cicero then threw him in the pool so tao and laura could have some company. if you’ve lost count, a bunch of writers are dead. they’re all fucking dead. ‘please don’t kill me michael. i think everything you do is fantastic’ said jackson nieuwland. ‘you haven’t said anything i did was fantastic in years’ michael screamed at jax while gunning him down. mike bushnell ran towards mike seidlinger in his face paint while holding a knife and yelling something incoherent. ‘what is mike saying?’ chris dankland said while rolling a fat one. ‘shut the fuck up and die’ michael said while unleashing his bullets on both mike and chris. oscar schwartz tried his best to run away but michael threw a knife that landed straight on his carotid artery. ‘where the hell are sarah, lucy, and megan’ an annoyed michael said. ‘they’re in your guest house doing karaoke’ a dying willis plummer whispered. 20 minutes later, michael’s guest house was on fire and sarah jean alexander, lucy tiven, and megan boyle never made it out of there alive. they died singing a rousing edition of ‘survivor’ by destiny’s child. so there you have it. a list of all the people that michael j. seidlinger killed on his 40th at his birthday party. michael felt pretty accomplished after he did it and couldn’t wait to self publish a short story about it on his popular press. unfortunately someone began stabbing him repeatedly before he could start brainstorming ideas. this person who was stabbing him went by the name of jimmy chen. michael tried his hardest to shoot jimmy or strangle jimmy or somehow kill him first but jimmy wasn’t on his kill list so it was impossible. jimmy kept stabbing michael until he lay motionless on the ground with his blood stained prescription glasses still on his face. ‘did you figure out who frank hinton was before you killed her’ jimmy said as he placed his hand on a dying michael’s shoulder. ‘no’ michael replied as he died about 5 minutes shy of his 40th birthday.