Tag: art
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Yet another weird ad for my novels
“Oh, that’s interesting, Kent.” My fifth-grade teacher studies my play-doh sculpture. “A cross between a star destroyer…and a penis.” Her brow wrinkles in consternation. “SUPER star destroyer,” I correct. “This is an Executor-class Dreadnought. They were present at the Battles of Mako-Ta, Jekara, and Yavin. Most of the manufacturing took place at Kuat Drive Yards,…
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Give my books a read and a review!
What the AI-powered-cock is happening, all you flesh-based meat-dicks who’re quickly becoming obsolete, one day you come home and find your increasingly distant partner stuffed to the gills with quantum-powered cock, holy fuck it’s activated miniature thrusters it’s coming right at your face you dive to the side as it punches through the wall you…
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Musings
The true self, I believe, is not a series of narratives that run through my mind, reiterating who I was, who I am, who I’ll be, and/or why any of those narratives aren’t valid or real. It’s a wordless transcendence that becomes apparent when all the narratives quiet and still.
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Yet another weird ad for my novels
Goddamn, I hate being stuck in Middle fucking Earth. The War of the Ring’s over, all the hot Elven moms have departed for the Undying Lands, so that leaves me beating my dick like it owes me money. Maybe I should take a couple of days off. It’s starting to look like a dried strip…
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Give my books a read and a review!
What the old-cum is happening, all you once mighty meat-beaters who are flogging your saggy piece with the fury of a thousand exploding sons, but to no avail, it’s like trying to play pool with a greasy piece of string, finally, after the raw skin looks like the magma-webbed cracks of Mount fucking Doom, a…
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Give my books a read and a review!
What the butt-cutt is happening, you overenthusiastic shavers who are getting ready for a date and just can’t get that ONE REMAINING hair on the nine o’ clock wrinkle, so you persist with furrowed brow and clenched teeth, scraping the razor over and over against your dirt star, oh shit you fucking misjudged the angle,…
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Yet another weird ad for my novels
Captain Decker yells, “Direct all power into reverse thrusters!” Our pilots click away at their holo-displays, funneling every last ounce of our ship’s muscle into backing away from the hungry black hole. As we come to a screeching halt, Decker orders, “Do. Not. MOVE.” On the front-screen displays, our thrusters glow with lucent blue light,…
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Give my books a read and a review!
What the death-chair is happening, all you nasty fucks who keep burying your farts in the same porous chair, only to have your dear friend sit on it by accident, triggering an audible, “PUUUHHHhhhh…” from its cushion which is accompanied by a visible green mist that arises from the fabric, they immediately start coughing, black…
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Musings
I’ve swung from denying negativity, to accepting to it, to allowing it (allowing it, in my opinion, is different from acceptance in that it doesn’t immediately assign it a fixed quality or quantification, which is what usually happens when I accept. Allowance just lets it be, without intellectual categorization). Allowing it, in my experience, expands…
Kent Wayne 