Author: Shawn Berman

Shawn is 20 years old and lives in New York. He runs the literary magazine, The Purple Pig You can follow him on Twitter @RamonBermanez and @PurplePigLit.


Eat Peanut Butter Drunk and Go to Sleep Before the Peanut Butter Eats You

If I could do it all over again I’d probably be a kangaroo or something like that. I guess I would be a kangaroo in the middle of Texas or some shitty desert place and I would smuggle drugs across the border because no one would ever suspect a kangaroo to be a drug smuggler.

People would just say ‘aww look, it’s a kangaroo.’

Fuck you, I’m a badass hash-slinging kangaroo and I’ll shoot you.

Wear a mouth guard because palm trees get angry when they drink.

The more I think about it the more I think that embryos are secretly mustache follicles sent from outer space by undercover aliens and that they are waiting to take over the entire human population.

The world needs more brunettes.

And blondes.

And fuck it; the world needs more redheads, too.

And boobs because boobs.

You are only a little bit happier than the saddest person in the world but even the happiest person in the world doesn’t know how to fly/even the happiest person in the world is annoying and you just want to tell them to shut the fuck up.

I spend most of my days avoiding human interactions because that’s too much work.

And part of me is a boat.

And the other part of me is a shark poking a hole in the boat waiting for me to drown.

If zoning out was an Olympic sport.

When you burp I will say thank you and you will like it.

And when you are on your period I will say good morning and not talk to you for a week or two and probably steal a turtle shell and hide in it because I am a little bitch when it comes to blood.

Sincerely, me. Can’t wait to have weird doggy style sex soon.

I Beat Teenage Pregnancy And So Can You I Think

I am only responsible for actions that are not my own.

And when I ask you out on a date what I really mean is ‘will you please come over to my apartment so you can do my laundry?’

But nothing usually works and everything catches on pretty fast.

Like hey, I meant to come see you but like my appendix burst.

You should have seen it, man. Fucking thing exploded all over the place!

Confused the tiny food particles for fireworks so I grabbed a tall glass of lemonade and sat back to watch the show.

I thought, ‘wow, this is really great. It’s too bad my abdomen has a giant hole in it and I’m bleeding on the white sofa I found in the dumpster.’

I want a t-shirt with a really big chest pocket and I will walk up to everyone and say something like, ‘would you like to take a nap in my big chest pocket,’ or ‘does my big chest pocket make you jealous? Go ahead, put your hand in it.’

I guess it’s only a matter of time before I sell my toaster oven so I can pay my rent.

And I guess it’s only a matter of time before my depression kicks me in my nuts and laughs itself into an asthma attack.

My tongue is sandpaper.

You are sandpaper.

The world is sandpaper.

Damn, your ass is wonderful. How much for one butt touch?

My thoughts come from a pinball machine that I got at some random garage sale and every time I play I let the ball fall through the middle because I think that makes me a good person because I didn’t hit it.

Make sense and buy drugs.

Amen.

Meth is a Gateway Drug to More Fun

I have this thought where we take a bunch of drugs that nobody has ever heard of.

Nothing happens for a while but then the drugs start to kick in and a hyper realistic superimposed face of Bill Murray is plastered on everyone that we make eye contact with.

Or is it Eddie Murphy? I get them confused.

Suddenly turned on by the thought of people verbally abusing me and saying things like, ‘wow, you’re such a loser and everything that you do is shitty.’

And everything usually ends with people laughing at me for no reason.

But I have many reoccurring dreams that don’t make sense.

Like the one where I’m a dolphin and I’m swimming then all of a sudden I turn into a rhino and some hunter de-horns me and turns my horn into a bunch of dildos.

One day I just want to sit under a waterfall in a tuxedo (or something fancy like that) and I will be getting soaked and like a family of four will be on vacation and they will see me sitting under the waterfall with my tuxedo and one of the kids will say, ‘hey, mister, are you all right?’ and I will get up like nothing happened and fly away on my hover board.

George, George, George of the jungle, watch out for that tree. And those STDs.

Press all the buttons on the elevator.

Make sure there is a huge group in it before you do it.

‘What floor are you going on’ you will say. And before the people can finish you will say something like, ‘I thought it would be nice to see all the floors so I pressed all the buttons because it’s such a nice day.’

True life: I haven’t changed my ringtone in two years.

Re: Pillow humping fetish romantic dinner date?

‘Wow, that was good, man. Can I have your autograph on my wife’s neck?’ said no one ever.

There is a Little Tiny Alien in My Pocket (TOTALLY SERIOUS)

The creases in your face are lovely and they make me want to go swimming.

The creases in your face are lovely and they make me want to go swimming with you and drown.

What are life jackets for?

I could be your life jacket if you blew me up.

Stop staring at my pants.

Is that the only thing you think about?

And if you scrunch your forehead up any more I’ll be able to see our future.

It’s not bright but hey, at least you’ll make me dinner for breakfast.

And hey, even if I were a dust particle you would open the window up wide to let me outside and I would evaporate into thin air.

So kind.

But even kinder when you punch me in the stomach and tell me, ‘wow, look at the rainbow over the hill. We should get married there or at least have a picnic.’

And you should at least dig a hole in the ground until your arms get really tired and fall off and I will pin them to my own body that way I can give you twice as many hugs at once.

I am the best.

I am the best because I can throw a motherfucking good ass temper tantrum in the middle of the store when I’m 1 item over the self-checkout express limit.

I can make anyone feel awkward.

Can make you feel awkward by just existing.

Am existing.

Am not.

Am coming in peace everywhere.

Fuck that shit.

I’ll eat raw chicken in front of you and then tell you that you’re ‘gonna have an allergic reaction to your hot tub and then when the paramedics come to help you they’ll just drink all your beer and then they’ll fuck your wife.’

But I only have a tiny urge to grow chin hair so I can braid it.

But I have a bigger urge to cut the bottom out of solo cups and to use them as glasses for the rest of my life or a week or an hour or some shit like that.

And like I told you, everyone is a jerk in this world until you pluck his/her nose hairs out.

And everything is some shit like that.

Especially you because when you snore I get so hard.