Bio: I express my artistry through emotional meditations and lowercase letters. My heart is pure; my poetry, self-published.
1. If there’s a sock on the door, don’t come in. I’m busy reading Vonnegut.
2. If my beret doesn’t give away my artistic tendencies, then I’m sure the Apple logo on my laptop will.
3. A sublime exhalation of youthful exuberance, in a premature outpouring of passion. (But give me 10 minutes, and I’ll try again.)
4. I’m not arrogant. I just don’t need to take writing advice from the dude who wrote “Charlotte’s Web.”
5. Yeah, well, how many literary-fiction journals have *you* been featured in, buddy?
6. Is that a Bukowski in your book bag, or are you just happy to see me?
7. Personally, I find the em-dash more progressive than the semicolon.
8. How endearing. I went through my own period of rugged Hemingway terseness back in 201.
9. We haven’t truly lived until we’ve written in the first-person-plural.
10. I’ll trade you three gently used issues of Glimmer Train for your annotated copy of “Burning Down the House.”
11. I’m not in it for the monetary compensation; I’m in it to bare my soul through the written word. (Besides, Mom pays my tuition.)
12. My tattered journal contains the scribblings of my soul. Plus, my Econ notes from yesterday’s class.
13. She left my emotional core stinging from the lash of rejection. (It also stings when I pee.)
14. I see you consistently get “it’s” and “its” confused. You need a bib to catch all the drool?
15. [Literary flirting] “So, you want to get coffee sometime? We could discuss whether Truman Capote wrote To Kill a Mockingbird.”
16. “No, phooey on you, Leigh. Phooey on YOU. And quit writing me.” Sincerely, Mr. Henshaw.
17. Yeah, well, you just used “their” incorrectly, so basically your entire argument is nullified.
18. We traverse this absurd world together — hearts linked, souls in sync — our love burgeoning faster than our student debts.
19. “Our divergent hearts can no longer beat as one,” I whisper softly, brushing my fingers across the screen as I unfriend her on Facebook.
20. I knew we were soulmates when she said her favorite scene in “Bridget Jones’s Diary” was Jeffrey Archer’s cameo.
21. You’re so cute when you pretend to understand the literary and cultural references on “Fraiser.”
22. I follow one comic-book avi and now my timeline looks like a goddamn convention.
23. I don’t deal with lumber and nails, sweetheart. *My* workshops include photocopied stories and peer-to-peer literary criticism.
24. Oh, you’re in the journalism school? OK, let’s see you write your way out of the print-to-digital transition.
25. At least my fiction-workshop classmates understand me.
26. Oh yeah, baby. Keep talking to me about gerunds.
27. I may not know the first 10 digits of pi, but I can rattle off the eight parts of speech like a badass.
28. They say English majors got no rhythm, but I can recite iambic pentameter against a subwoofer backbeat, bro.
29. No, I’n not necessarily trying to imitate Hunter S. Thompson. Maybe I’m using this cigarette filter to protect my lungs!
30. The student newspaper is disposable prose, whereas my master’s thesis — once written — will remain in the campus library forever.
31. I’ll be the guy standing outside the library with mirrored sunglasses and a cigarette, holding the collected works of Edgar Allan Poe.
32. If it turns you on, baby, I’ll read a Rex Pickett novel without once consulting a thesaurus.
33. If only my poetry-workshop classmates could see what a badass I am on Twitter.
34. “I don’t read much mystery, but I should expose myself to Agatha Christie.” *English classmates titter as I realize my faux pas*
35. I’m not the type to send you a dick pic, but I might DM a sonnet if the inspiration strikes.
36. You’ll know my poetry career has taken off when I have 1 million followers and I’m following 6 people.
37. It’s all fun and games until a mixed metaphor somehow slips into your prose.
38. Excuse me. I saw you were skimming through the collected works of Ambrose Bierce. Hi.
39. Damn auto-correct is trying to add capital letters to my haiku.
40. I don’t know if you remember me from MySpace, but I was the one who published a lot of poetry and had Radiohead playing on my profile.
41. Not now, bro! I’m impressing this chick by explaining how Conrad’s “Heart of Darkness” was the basis for “Apocalypse Now.”
42. Bitch, I was reading Saroyan while you were still stumbling through Shel Silverstein. *Drops mic*
43. When tripping a math major, I like to see what slides the farthest: their glasses or their graphing calculator.
44. Rowling was a single mother when she got published, and I live with mine, so really, our lives are not that different.
45. I hope you appreciate my Tweets. I’m neglecting my master’s thesis on identity-forming environmental literature to be here with you all.
46. Yeah, well, I didn’t want to get into your stupid nightclub anyway, pal. Besides, I meet plenty of women in line at the student bookstore.
47. Oh, were you still talking? Because I was over here planning my literary magnum opus, but by all means, keep babbling.
48. My selfie-stick is a pen, because I reveal my portrait through poetry. (And also because I don’t photograph well with whiteheads.)
49. What a poser. If you’re going to strut around with a Salinger, it should be “Franny and Zooey.”
50. Thanks Econ Professor, but if I wanted to learn about stocks and bonds, I’d just read “The story of O.”
51. Whatever, Glimmer Train. If you don’t like my story, I’ll just publish it on Wattpad.
52. You can’t change the past, but it turns out you can go back and digitally erase the cigarette from Paul Simon’s hand.
53. Yeah, I’m not working toward an MFA in literary fiction to become a technical writer. But thanks so much for the useless career advice.
54. Well, I’m writing the Great American Novel, but that’s so cool that you do the horoscope for the student newspaper.
55. “Maybe you heard of me, babe? My byline was in last semester’s issue of the student literary magazine.” *Lowers shades*
56. “Hey, math major! Is there an equation that describes your unattractiveness to women?” (*High-fives accompanying English student*)
57. Not to brag, but when you were 8 years old and wetting the bed, I was publishing my first piece in Highlights Magazine.
58. “Can I buy that masturbatory tome of self-indulgent slop?”
“Sir, that’s a copy of ‘Fifty Shades of Grey.’”
59. I draft my tweets there old-fashioned way: with pen and paper.
60. If you want to know more about me, I’m the kind of guy who tells WordPress they could be better, then refuses to provide feedback.