People often ask me how I can write so much. One reason is I don't seek trivia. The conversation conducted between most people does not exist with me. My mother or girlfriend will ask: what did you eat yesterday, where did he go to school, why does she count her money twice, why does Charles have that neck brace photo on his email icon, why doesn't she apply for a job here, why is that sign there, who buys this stuff, why does your roommate let his girlfriend walk all over him...

I answer none of these questions.

I am the worst girlfriend in the world.

I'm also a shit friend. I can't remember, did not bother to notice your car, its color, its brand, its year. I lived with Ajay for three years before she asked me what color her walls were painted and I had no idea as she covered my eyes. The color was not important, at all. I hammered Mrs. Bedwrecker into the mattress for three years before she finally covered my eyes and asked me what colors hers were—I guessed. I knew she was a brunette so guessed brown and it was so. What was important was how she liked her breasts handled, which possession hurt, and knowing, without asking, when she wanted to be hurt.

You get the idea. Most of what goes into a mind finds no purchase in mine, leaving my tiny ape's brain spacious enough for many a musing.

My other technique is to use brief outlines, a title and subtitle, as memory cues to brief interviews and conversations and sights. These below were written on my drink receipt at work last night and this morning, title and then subtitle. that is all, no outline, no draft, just writing cues. These come with an expiration date, a month, six weeks at the most, before the words begin to sink into the lizard brain.

'Crack!'

Big Rob and Billy Flipstein

Crossing the Line

Tribal Ethics Among Urban Palefaces

Cruising for You

A Paradigm Shift in the Hunt for Whitey

'Officer Dickhead'

Columbine Joe on 'That Cop'

The Anubis Project

A New Player in the Paleface Sweepstakes

'What Were They Like?'

Urban Skinheads 'Back in the Day'

'Are You a Writing Machine?'

'Or Do You Hold Beliefs, and If So, What Are They?' A Man Question From Malcolm.