My great dream in life is to marry a rich woman who despises me, and who invests vast sums of money into my vanity film projects which end up being critical and commercial failures

Here is what I would do with money: the same thing I already do, which is to walk around and make friends— only with a broader range!!

(I would also buy nicer pillows because my pillows suck and I think they’re what’s causing my spine to hurt.)

I needed a little skeleton buddy so I went out and bought one.

There’s no tax in Oregon. I approached the register with exact change and handed it to the guy behind the counter.

He said, “Need a receipt?”

I said, “No, I just need this skeleton.”

He said, “Aw man, ya can’t even take the survey at the bottom for me?”

Walking backwards out of the store and still holding the skeleton up by its little spine, I said, “No, I just need this skeleton.”

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A girl took me into her dorm and there were lots of great signs everywhere

An hour after I have woken up from the dream I can still see in my mind’s eye—whatever that may be; the third or ajna eye?—the garden hose which my wife in her blue jeans is dragging across the cement driveway. Little details, no plot. I wish I owned the mansion next to our house. I do? In real life, I wouldn’t own a mansion on a bet. These are rich people; I detest them. Who am I? How many people am I? Where am I? This plastic little apartment in southern California is not my home, but now I am awake, I guess, and here I live, with my TV (hello, Dick Clark), and my stereo (hello, Olivia Newton-John) and my books (hello nine million stuffy titles). In comparison to my life in the inter-connected dreams, this life is lonely and phony and worthless; unfit for an intelligent and educated person. Where are the roses? Where is the lake? Where is the slim, smiling, attractive woman coiling and tugging the green garden hose? The person that I am now, compared with the person in the dream, has been baffled and defeated and only supposes he enjoys a full life. In the dreams, I see what a full life really consists of, and it is not what I really have.

‘VALIS’ rules

Man, you know what’s a sad truth is that this is definitely the best time to be a human on earth, and for one very big reason: modern medcine. Can you imagine getting surgery in the 17th century? Fuck that noise, dude.

Thank God for penicillin, and so on.

Though yeah, everything else except for like electric guitars sucks big time.

can you believe what that celebrity said about that thing

what were they thinking

i hope they apologize soon