The first time I watched Lost in Translation I cried.
The second time I watched Lost in Translation I cried, again.
The third time I watched Lost in Translation I jerked off to Scarlett Johansson singing karaoke.
Does it make me womanly because I cried during a Bill Murray movie?
Don’t answer that.
Today a Jesus Christ parody account liked my tweet that said this:
I picture myself becoming a cat person- but instead of hoarding cats in my undersized apartment, the cats are just a bunch of Russian mail order brides that bitch at me in a language I don’t understand.
I tried to take your advice but it didn’t work.
Every time I went to go play in traffic,
No one took the initiative to run me over.
Will work for being able to leave someone’s house without saying goodbye.
Am the master of getting out of small talk with people I don’t care about–
The trick is to flail your arms while screaming gibberish obscenities.
When in trouble,
Whisper nothing into my ear and I will know what to do
Because I watch a lot of nature shit so I can tell you what animals are dangerous.
A lot of people think that tigers are scary,
But the real enemies are mosquitoes.
Wu-Tang Clan says cash rules everything around us
But money can’t save us from the West Nile Virus, can it?
Didn’t think so!
Shawn Berman is a warm beer. Shawn Berman is a strip club on a Monday afternoon. Shawn Berman is a pirate looking for booty. More specifically, your booty. Shawn Berman has work featured in theNewerYork, Potluck Magazine and Voicemail Poems. He can be followed on twitter @ramonbermanez. He also runs a literary magazine called Purple Pig Lit.