Rabbits is a 2002 series of short avant-garde, horror-comedy video films written and directed by David Lynch. It depicts three humanoid rabbits played by Scott Coffey, Laura Elena Harring and Naomi Watts in a room. Their disjointed conversations are interrupted by a laugh track. Rabbits is presented with the tagline “In a nameless city deluged by a continuous rain… three rabbits live with a fearful mystery”.


A man who carries a cat by the tail learns something he can learn in no other way.

— Mark Twain


I’m not really getting at anything, not really. I’m just wondering, when you take a sip of thousand dollar wine, does any part of you really believe that it’s worth it?

Because while I’m sure you poured it into a decanter and let it breathe for exactly the amount of time the sommelier instructed, and while you took a big whiff before you tilted that glass back, tried to imagine all of those vanilla and oak and other subtle, almost hidden aromas, I guarantee you that when that first drop hit your tongue, there had to have been a little part of you that was disappointed, that refused to stay silent, that piped up in the back of your head, that’s it? It’s good, but really? That’s it? But I just paid a thousand dollars.

It’s just a glass of wine. It’s just a watch. You’re just some dude with way too much money to even begin to know what to do with any of it.



USS’s newest video is an incredibly accurate depiction of addiction.


This week in tech that makes me uncomfortable, the ‘telepresence robot.’

Apparently people who telecommute have been feeling a little left out, so now you can let everyone in the office know you’re still around by putting your face on an iPad, on a Segway.



With all this talk of consistency, you think I’d at least update my website regularly.

Anyways, I was on ThoughtCatalog recently.

You should read it.


Circumstances change incredibly quickly while your attention is divided, I’ve realized.

2014 has been a mixed bag of successes and yet-to-be-conquered obstacles. On one hand, my work on any novel-length fiction has pretty much come to a standstill. If anyone has a cure for writer’s block, I’ll literally pay you anything for the information at this point. On the positive side, two of my works are now available on ThoughtCatalog, which you can find here and here.

In completely unrelated news, I’m soon to be relocating to Toronto.

In other completely unrelated news, I don’t have any other unrelated news.


That’s the problem with tomorrow.

It has a habit of turning into today.


There is no gamble more dangerous than planning to have the money, freedom, and time to do what you truly want to later in life.

You don’t have the money yet, so you need to work. As you want to get to your dreams more quickly in this scenario, you take the sure thing. The free ride. You don’t love the job, but the money is right. Better than the just-scraping-by scenario you’d be in if you’d tried desperately for the job you really wanted.

It didn’t pay well, right? You made the right decision.

Didn’t you?

The days blur together as your meager nest-egg slowly begins to gain size. If life is only in the moment in which you experience it, the majority of your life is then spent waiting. Counting down to five o’clock. Counting down to Friday. Counting down until summer. Counting down until you don’t have to do this anymore and can sleep in and can actually look forward to Monday and this doesn’t have to be a struggle.

But what then?



“The 3 types of terror: The Gross-out: the sight of a severed head tumbling down a flight of stairs, it’s when the lights go out and something green and slimy splatters against your arm. The Horror: the unnatural, spiders the size of bears, the dead waking up and walking around, it’s when the lights go out and something with claws grabs you by the arm. And the last and worse one: Terror, when you come home and notice everything you own had been taken away and replaced by an exact substitute. It’s when the lights go out and you feel something behind you, you hear it, you feel its breath against your ear, but when you turn around, there’s nothing there…”

— Stephen King