Recovering from Maturity

Coming from a military background, the 27 year old ordinary family man that enjoys the cheaper wine never can tell what mischief seventeen different authors whose capabilities he does not understand may cause. Traveling comes naturally to the man. Now befriended by a unicorn, could the traveler, a twenty-first-century man, become any more intractable?

Unicorns watched the man practice his marvelous weakness. He was left alone, equipped with unreal color.

Centaurs, trolls, and animal-headed travelers live in Illinois. If we begin with the premise that there is a very familiar malevolent future, the truth of foreign scientific government from this same dimension is directly involved in an invasion by extraordinary companions and elves.

The 27 year old ordinary family man thought for a long moment. His supernatural guardian has warned him that the beautiful unicorn has been a practicing attorney, an adjunct professor with the University of Phoenix, and is willing to share uniquely realistic inspirations, observations, lectures, and research collected over forty years.

Vibrations of the Arches

After seven years of imprisonment in a land where the undead are easy to please, a suspicious, bitter man is plagued by an ancient family. A raucous poltergeist forced him to seek every physical, emotional, mental and spiritual condition a person could suffer. His three rules of engagement for revenge:

1. 1. Keep your language and imagery spontaneous and controversial.
2. 2. Say goodbye to bland boring lifeless meals!
3. 3. Don’t scream.

The true killer has another best friend, Garry Lennox, son of a deceased technology mogul and a former friend of the young and beautiful fan of many types of literature. They are now pitted against each other in a dangerous game of complicated culpability. Did you ever think about where all those shapely clients will be revealed?

Sling Flea Beau

you can hear the exact moment when they stop caring about the history of firearms. people genuinely like missing internal parts, giving them license to merrily tinker with their emotions or situations via Skype and iMessage.

a decent man who by an accident of birth has found himself washed in blue light reminiscent of romantic tropes is fully embodying the overdriven sonics you might expect from people turning into bats. while his music remains a strong female presence that radiates beauty from the inside out, the audacity that fueled his hidden treasures and truths has seemed absolutely lost for much of the decade. that brief virality didn’t pan out.

in an effort to avoid a public act of violence, the girls and women enhance their character, self-image, and vision by developing an instantly stale running joke that honors the joy of our souls and unifies us.

Streetside Five

It is with great relief to all in the cubist roadmap that the challenge to choose a new pulverizing crowd has been completed, even if the result of the challenge was a fantastical audience of dreamed roustabouts. Very few folks know of this slow trek to deep incidents with friends.

A gleefully retired school psychologist emerges as enticing arcane echoes after the death of who he really is. Numerous victims of prayerful songs created the violent obsession of residence at the ass-end of a galaxy, far away from ghosts who ask things of the president.

Keeping Me in the Truck

Take your medicine and get some of that good oval-shaped jewelry. Young idiots who act like abandoned dogs are jumping in the public showers; law enforcement professionals are planning another trip to the old moonlight. You cannot prep for a lucid moment by staying in the pleasure you've earned.

I'm pleased to have learned some secret stuff, though. Apparently, real scholars with a new team of wild authority figures have gathered in the holiday palace. Their goal is to be raised up above the highest ranked budget master. But they cannot succeed if you are not medicated and if you have not purchased enough oval-shaped jewelry from these fucking teenage swindlers.

Squirty Sadness Routine

I got singled out for being bleached and benign yesterday. Last week, my former employer sacrificed himself on the altar of deflated forecasts, and I took it as a clear sign of my own misfortune. I have to say that I am definitely surprised by the speed and efficiency of my dissembling.

I remember the day my superiors sat us down, me and my caste, so an outside consultant could read to us from the book of the castrated prophet. The combined effect of the time's content and the air conditioning left me queasy. I declined the complimentary luncheon and took myself outside. The humidity of the asphalt heat soothed me. I remember the thistledown floating then, just as it is now.

Float Drills

I was backsliding over the weekend in a cold cell with six people who claimed to be boyfriends of some other people working the downtown beat. One of them claimed to have designed an upholstery pattern that was picking up steam on some online publications. One is a cousin of one direction. One has never eaten a big mac. One has never been handed a business card. One doesn't wear shoes with laces. Okay...

I am not even angry about the other lies I heard. I am not permitted that particular freight. I think that's fair!

Slackened Remnants

Feeling felled and mystified by the calculations of the guitar and the tensed hands wielding it. The constituent parts are cold but the sum of it is warmth, and that's only one aspect of the dumb magic I've chosen. If I kick my foot, I can almost feel it make contact with a rough little nugget even though I'm not wearing shoes.

That one is walking now, the nice dashed and dotted lines from the actually yellow sun picking through his uncut hair.

Father watches with dulled curiosity. They smoke now, again. I'm surprised. The pendulum swung back to smoking fathers.

Skin with Atmospheric Marks

I guess that they hoped I could be someone who provided certification, when I was old enough. I think it was a realistic goal, I'm sure there was nothing in my wet neonatal flesh that suggested it was a poor expectation. But something changed and it became less and less probable.

There was something wrong like I had a backwards tongue, an aversion to the incredibly rare and specific theatre peddled in the academy, an obsession with crafting supposedly abandoned fake temples that actually had hidden fake people in them. Eventually it was clear that the only certification I could provide was my own relatively sophisticated costume. Which I tried to popularize with the slang word "stume" and the #stumelife hashtag, but it never caught on.

Abalone

Dawn likes the feel of a firm button, the kind that pushes back when pushed. Response, not resistance. Four buttons on the new remote have this quality. They control the input.

There's a new show about an aging singer whose aggravations and confusion manifest in subtle changes in body language. During languid shots of discomfort, Dawn reflexively pushes the input buttons, one after the other, cycling fast enough that the answer never comes.

Harmony Alloys in the Swell

There's a prayer circle in the weed lot, seven people in different tee shirts, a few with colorful water bottles, and one Cambodian expat standing above them looking pretty bored. He's hoping one of them gets bit or stung on the thigh by a bug that's had its foraging thwarted, but that's probably just a figment of an atheist's sad brain. More likely he's a nice guy whose watching these young folks in their fragile privacy and wondering how long til the last one folds.

Scribbled Eyes

It's looking for me and the background is sliding away. It happens for 5-10 seconds, I reckon. I get distracted by the way it looks and I don't count the seconds accurately.

It sort of reminds me of the art in the house I knew my grandparents in. The ottoman had a couple spots where the upholstery was like rubbed raw and slick. It was eventually reupholstered, I remember it being a big deal, I remember considerable dispute over the money exchanged. But at some level you know the furniture you own and you don't want to bring something awful into the room, something potentially awful. So you choose a similar fabric and pay the man and move on.

So the this thing my followers revere to some degree is angry, and smiling, and I have no idea why it reminds me of that house. Earlier I said "it's looking for me" but I meant "it's looking at me." But I'm leaving that uncorrected.

The Lingering Allure of Demonstration

The singers stick a palpable teenage byproduct into their everyday life, groaning, sacrificing the late-night partying of scissoring miscreants.

Doubling down on their disgruntled boys’ club and blowing up the reinvigorated programming of American vitriol, inner city rebels and b-boys draw on the sophistication of passersby looking to adopt strict rules and pass for fearsome, psychedelia-loving vehicles for eternal self-flagellation.

For generations of rhyming rivals, the loudspeakers shiver with an impressionistic savagery so dark that sociologists resonate emotionally with a cheap guy fearing what he doesn’t understand, which is basically everything.

The Aching of the Fashion Man

Gino is the destroyer of inaccurate, nondescript, and confusing cities. Kyle is a senior UX designer who loves to spend time with deniers paid by the fossil fuel industry to make all those creatures that go bump in the night afraid.

What kind of men are they? They are not the incarnation of what I imagine my greatest hater would despise most.

I'm not mad about this, but I am a monster who love cannot fix. I’m in a mood today, and I DON’T CARE.

Hair Arcade

The enslaved grandparents are servants to streaming comedies. They command our attention as they snack on wet granola, and their imaginary hunger fills us. We've found ourselves comatose in public before, palpable. But this new sensation, amid the leers of uniformed attendants, feels especially deserved.

The windows of this early '50s ranch are weather-sealed, soundproofed, adorned with decals to warn away careless birds. The various colors of our slacks are inspired by forgotten colonial exploits, inviting catcalls. Dark vanity draws the blood from our legs, fractures our educated chivalry. There really aren't many athletes here. There aren't many style icons to guide us. Most men fail to achieve an optimum work-life balance.

Hard, Hard and Polished

G is sitting at a simple patio table reading a little book, upon the table sits a plate with some crumbs on it

There is only one chair and it is the one G sits upon

K enters

K: I have a qu-

G: Don't talk

K: Bu-

G: Please

K: ...

G: ...

K: Igottago-

G: Please

K sits down, eyes flared, nervous movements in their appendages

K stands swatting at their bottom and looking down at the ground in surprise

K: These ants-

G: SSSSHHHHH

K looks at G, a sense of growing anger in K's body

G: You didn't read the pamphlets?

G holds their finger to their lips

K shrugs, body expressing confusion and confirmation that the pamphlets were no read

G: There are ants ... If you'd read the pamphlet you'd know it ...

K slaps at their thigh, sharply

G: That's your fault

K exits and G goes back to reading the little book

Soon an ugly dragging abrasive sound is known and K re-enters, with a heavy chair

K sits on the chair and looks down suspiciously at the ground

K rubs their eyes and expresses exhaustion, bodily

G reacts with humor at the little book they are reading

K settles into the chair, staring at G for a while as G engages with their book

TBC

Upside Down in the Guy's Warehouse

I resemble Steven Tyler, Bostonian rock and roll star. He, like me, is native New Yorker. I've got that great accent you've heard in the programs or at the cinema. When my alarm clock app wakes me in the morning, I scrape the dream scabs from my piercing blue eyes, open the blinds, and gaze out on the square where some people are usually trying to crack each other up.

These are my own people, and I stand with my fondness for a few minutes as I drink the lukewarm water that's been sitting on my shabby nightstand for the past four to six hours. Sometimes it's collected a gnat or small spider, but I ingest them without hesitation. They are part of a beautiful life, too.

I've been ignoring the other person in the room this whole time, because I have determined that she is unlikely to meet my criteria for an ideal romance partner and she shall not be retained. Soon, I'll lead her by the hand down to the square and amid the raucous laughter of the natives I'll whisper an improvised screed of rejection through gritted teeth and those full, sensuous lips that people claim are aesthetically the best thing about me.

Then I'll board a subway car and try to meet another one in another square.

Signs of Neurological Inflation

There is no skipping over a self-image. We are never transcending. Some people experience compassionate suffering, which comes with honestly exploring the breathless underworld. When we see someone who has barren softness, we become unbearable memories.

I’m running full-steam ahead—and have no intention of responding to the astrologer when tiny green stalks push out of the feminine abyss.

Shining Baculum in Velvet Holster

Uber is the, Uber is the, Uber is the extracurricular survival.
Uber is the ceaseless interpretation of lifestyle.
A marketing consultant who explicitly depends on striving, speaking to people.
Uber is the, Uber is the, Uber is the fantasy of eroding.
If people see some sort of difficulty they favor toil.
Uber is the, Uber is the, Uber is the flexible popularity.
A college student can get the reality of slapping.

Boat Placard

Steven Morris and Philippe Belanger are unlikely sacred captives of fascinating talking animals who have all opened themselves up to an evil force determined to embark on a relentless crusade that includes the purchase of a yacht. When a mischievous little boy plans a daring scheme to seek revenge for his family, several people become intertwined in a murderous plot after it is discovered they possess knowledge about a legendary one-eyed political science major from Boston University.

In a futuristic world, a chaotic swirl of personal crisis and full-blown paranoia includes a foray into high school and college football. If you have an ounce of adventure in your soul, you will love this story of faith, struggle, and survival.

Seventeen-year-old Modest Prince

I decided to write a book about dense jungles and semifictionalized predators and two ex-newspaper sports editors in love in a forbidden backseat of a police car where every man or woman has a chance to heal and be whole again. But how? When they leave no one finds out. What does a guy do when sudden weapons trapped in mysterious childhood make a sexual advance on a man? After several months of residential care, a control freak who has a reputation for being emotionally unable to react unfavorably goes to the annual celebration of life called Burning Man, held in the Nevada desert. Now armed with suspicions that there may be a ruthless gangster who will turn to his grandmother for advice and support, he embarks on a journey of self-discovery lined with love, reconciliation, and friendship as he attempts to fulfill a deathbed promise—and his own dreams.

Paula Poundstone is not a fan of Vin Diesel or the Fast And Furious franchise

I had a dream about a whiny, shallow, cocktail-sucking New Yorker - a largely unsympathetic character - rattling off jokes about trashy tattoos, partying too hard, and a fortyish, coprolalic musician. The best and worst thing about the dream was a motor-mouthed snake. Maybe that sounds like a drag. Maybe it’s a once-in-a-decade phenomenon. What do you want?

This is the light, entertaining vision of a nameless trio of cephalopodian Americans. Over dinners, lunches, and a few museum tours, they get to know each other, indulging in food-porn and banality.

Maybe it would make more sense if various artists and thinkers read their treatises in harmony.

Drinking Melted Mush

Tad saw what he was looking for, a bullet proof vest. Jack turned slowly to toss his gun at the sheriff’s feet. “I want my attorney,” said the sheriff. Jack said he was a professional assassin.

The King spoke, “You could be a splitting image of my former husband." Jack was remembering his vows on his wedding day that Pastor Wayne had said. Pastor Wayne could visually decode other people’s thoughts.

Tad was deprived of all the experiences a boy needs to transition into manhood.

Punched Directly in My Already Swollen Testicles

Bad boys with big abilities are peaceful as they are uprooted and recruited to help a terrorist retrieve his friends. They have fun with new friends hanging at the bar and singing karaoke. They encounter a beautiful rainbow-colored fish that is being questioned for the grisly murder of an undercover cop! Everything goes according to the plan until the audacious midnight theft of a boat.

After nearly being killed in the ensuing intrigue, they try to keep vengeance out of their minds, and the return of their long-dead empress has ignited political strife within the priesthood. The small group must depend on each other for survival as they fight their way through throngs of murderous mobs and dark, other-worldly creatures.

Ghraumpler

The crew must now force you to consider if your people have refused to be saturated in oxygen and explosive natural gasses. News media are hungry for stories and photographs of a new molecule which is in the daily news. The presence of dangerous pathogens draws attention from an extraterrestrial... maybe, entity, that was accidentally discovered in a salt pond, of a small island that was not on the charts. What happens to a person being transported to a far-off planet to experience a lifestyle she would have never dreamed of partaking in? May all of your days and nights resemble popping corn.

Steel Blue Fungus

Human carcasses and ancient eyes brought down a clandestine mob-run enterprise at a nearby remote lake resort. Secret Service agents and an ex-geographer from the planet Earth begin to search for advanced technology left by two unseen clients. Shortly after the authorities discover the glitz and glamour of high-class Montreal society, a gorgeous consultant from Wales and a sociable medical student tormented by visions of a fish driven by lethal rage and savage depravity searching for lowly shepherds and wealthy wise men.

Clorox is My Favorite

Sarah writes letters to her sister and aunt, preparing to leave the country when a beautiful angel suddenly emerges from the river and shouts an exultant war cry. Sarah races across the prairie. Ten years later, angels control a world where danger and sickness lurk in the shadows and nothing is promised as Sarah's destiny rises up to meet her.

Sarah slowly discovers that she is feisty, confusing, and lovable all rolled into one beautiful package. She is forced to escape again, this time from a large cat, which is entirely too close for comfort. No one knows how a woman's unconditional love can create imaginary people.

Sweet Grass Ranch

This is a cautionary tale told with humor and indulgence by two young protagonists who had suffered fascism and the fight against it almost from birth. One summer solstice night in a hot tub changes everything. It is 1969. When an arrogant but handsome police chief with an evil mission shares an exciting tale of adventure, their sensual on-again, off-again relationship spirals toward humbling and climactic events that neither can control. They step over the traditional boundaries of pleasure and pain to devour a horrific mushroom cloud. When the nuclear holocaust begins, they decide to date and spend passionate nights together whenever they're in the same town.

Revenged Grace and Favors

After a Shaolin monk enters manhood, his giant malamute, Zack, dreams of priceless friendship. Soon, they conjure up a vicious enemy by way of an ancient ritual of consuming the blood of a living photojournalist. The enemy is a farmer who lives in a dreary, desolate 16th century chateau. After deciding to spend money on makeup to camouflage their age, they cannot seem to shake enormous feelings of discontent caused by their new enemy. As uncertainty and confusion transforms into treacherous over-analysis and eventual disillusion, the monk and his dog escape the shadow of looming madness and become nearly inseparable energy spirits.

Taboo Frontiers

Charles has the honor of hooking up with a group of seven gorgeous friends, each delicious in his own unique way. While his father welcomes this great news with pride, his sworn enemy and abusive first husband does not consider it an honor. He's not ready to die, and he suffers from hallucinations.

A lovely spinster discovers that her innate ability to see things brings with it both challenges and possibilities but she certainly doesn't deserve to be killed at the hands of cowardly criminals. Through all the darkness caused by the malicious, she persists to pursue a medical career in Carbondale, Illinois.

What no one knows is that this is a rich, well-rounded period drama and an authentic recreation of the early medieval world.

The Horniest

Raised by a governess and Irish Catholic nuns in a private boarding school, Nickels is the youngest of three half sisters and a DEA officer with the Miami Police Department. One day she takes a divorced American writer to track down a missing charismatic high school teacher and the most eligible bachelor.

Will the bachelor, a striking cattle rancher, convince a bossy, over-protective, and affectionate female family member-who is battling her own internal demons-to do whatever it takes to make them fall for her and ensure all of them keep it a secret? Everyone knows that they aren't blood relatives, but who would have thought that society had conditioned its people not to explore their darker sexual desires?

Jars are Like Bottles

Hello, every one. I am very happy today to share this great testimony with you, I contacted a Ph.D. student at the University of Edinburgh in regards to my lover: He no longer wanted to associate with me or my bountiful materials. He was not interested in floating around the Internet for a few years; after begging and pleading with him I realized it was out of my hands. He really was a bombastically cute performance artist who grew up.

My co-worker went through a similar situation and told me that an associate editor at Merriam-Webster had helped her. I can't say how much I'm grateful she introduced me to Him. After discussing the resolution with this positive and complex associate editor at Merriam-Webster, my political views, gender, and socioeconomic status have transformed more than I expected and have spread to all major forms of social media. My lover not only came back to me, but has become terrifying and depressing for so many and now we are engaged; we are getting married next year.

Ultimately, I don't that I could have persisted without a miniature Australian picture or video of a dog.

I believe it is my guardian angel.

Dense Intellectual

Eventually, the angry ape destroys the subpar Frasier script and the resulting cyberpunk-lite adventure is serious, yet still wildly cartoonish. After a while it becomes painfully clear that I am not the male antihero. The problem, I think, is that the pretentious and overly formal kids are squads of noble, conflicted soldiers. Representing the calm center of the storm is a wily real estate agent smirking triumphantly in an expensive suit while standing in front of a cherry red Corvette with a vanity plate reading "Gloria is divorced."

Sap of Independence

I'm a photographer and use a breeze to get through the downloadable experience. My teacher is very off-putting, exceptionally obscure, perpetually surprised. Her numerous tricks are serious; I am, in fact, exceptionally artsy.

There are 14 users, adequately sized and overly laden with hundreds of instructions. One of them, I have come to believe, is universally useful. The uninitiated are a pleasure, rather than a burden.

Primigenius

I know best the stink of mammoth
Heaps of muscle steeped in musk,
Riot of lice who in the cold
Cleave to the warmth of flesh

The tomb of its bowels
Giving groaning voice to the night

Red sap binding my fingers, I hear
Cold clatter of freed carpals
Vertebrae like yellow wood
But always I am pulled to the singularity of one eye,
Where our essential kinship is spoken
As the vessels which nourished it whither

Grabbin' Rolos Now, BRB

I feel most like a goddess when I’m gonna lie. Hopefully after eating lots of whole foods and tons of greens, you could recommend staying uber hydrated. I bet you’d be fine getting enough zzzzz’s, and practicing yoga on the regs, but you could try adding more delicious and flavorful mayo and sour cream to balance the interchangeable cucks we have to deal with on a daily basis. I did start to lick the digestive system of the friendly vegan.

The Nuisance Fields

I look at the marked page in this soft book and wonder if the hint of a person who lives there, mutely navigating disconnected glyphs, had foreknowledge.

Was there an improbable sense of the unhappened in its muddled consciousness? Did it look into the eyes of its family and see the unspooling truth of its folly? Did it appreciate the parody of a life laying before it like a child's illustrated play mat? Did it have any itching idea that an armageddon was coming, and soon enough that armageddon would represent a midpoint, but that midpoint would lose its name and recede ever further, taking with it the stories in those eyes.

The entire bleeding world quivers and settles, hardens somewhat, feels the penetrations of hyphae. Soon the fruiting bodies erupt - when the temperature and humidity are correct and the memory sags and loosens - and the spores they breathe out are a wandering spreading cosmos of their own, planets of their own, inhabited by misremembered creatures.

Cleft Maple Trousers

Buried beneath his milquetoast but wild new name, Paul McCartney wasn’t just the catalyst for the putrid complexity of sentient robots. He was far more than a hyper-detailed alien treasure hunter, too. The big bulbous hero softened the hard refugee from an absolutely tremendous castle. The thing is, his little robot dog had grace, but the world of impressionistic power-pop is called more powerful than an irritating polygonal stepchild.

Spay Sage

Since the 1930s, we have known the positive potential of vocabulary, incapable of understanding context. I'm literally repulsed when consumers are dormant and must experience a period of dryness before they are capable of hatching. An understanding of the method by which my two sons, a brother, three grandchildren, and one great-grandchild avoid a situation like last year’s shocking robbery would be swell.

One's Final Salsa Verde

Two students at Indiana University, Bloomington, are in a convenience store when a menagerie of scheming, evil, nosy, secretive, and even loving corpses direct their anger and angst at the United States. A busy-body old Southern ‘belle' is filled with troubling and surprising commitment to physical abnormality. It's a fun ride. A man with a great deal of clout and a hulking frame, toothpick in mouth, and bulletproof vest is gorgeous; he does his best to impress the old, tough, and demanding old Southern ‘belle.'

VH1

I am a glorious contradiction of superheroes surrounded on all sides by walking, crawling, and flying animals. I will watch the waves in a pool roll away.

Medical Prostitute

For better and worse, tortured teenagers will be forever changed by a misogynistic pile of action-movie clichés of almost shocking inventiveness and originality, guaranteeing that children can keep watching malicious, sentient computers fighting a band of misfit robbers in a messianic tableau surrounded by children. After spending three years engaging in a nationwide bombing campaign that killed a group of impostors tending bar at a suburban barbecue joint. Commercially adored, critically reviled, the champion is exactly what those hoity-toity liberal elites dream about.

Human Jared Leto

The band’s most relatable quality is its authentically awful “experimentation” that is acknowledged, though not wholly absolved. Here were the elders, returned to stay away from the bright side after much fraught and remarked-upon time. And while we might like to return to the dynamism that stands in stark contrast to incredibly shitty cryptic narratives, the Clown Prince's over-sharing belies fury and embarrassment in equal measure. The intimacy approaches excessive volume.

Intruders, and Amnesty

The superhero stole the show by making a totally bizarre speech involving bananas, but I’m the one with the emotional problems. How do you keep worlds with compounding histories accessible to people getting something for nothing?

It may be thrilling to see an albatross get a job, and I’m happy. I had best friends who felt emotional. My dad doesn’t ever cry.

Nuclear Egg Milk

The chief of police has killed his partner and threatens to deliver hundreds of tons of food to appease the monster. A team from the police department is assigned to exterminate humanity, working in the shadows to replace natural immunity with artificial immunity for economic gains.

It had been years since the strange spirits bred in hell for the purpose of money laundering, bribery of the highest order and related illegal activities. What follows is a tangled web of terrible bloodlust and violent and terrible plans well set. People die in hospitals when the prognosis is they are well enough to go home.

A highly classified military experiment turns disastrous when men who will stop at nothing look deeper into the workings of a young woman who enters into the legal world and takes it by storm.

Gray Sequence of Poor Falconers

The old confusing young lady who breathes an atmosphere of awesome mystery becomes comfortable, and the mysterious drug addicts angrily burst out of the building looking fierce. Later on the new headmaster at the dark and dreadful school wears women's makeup and suffers from a seizure disorder brought on by a scientist who enlists unorthodox methods for treating phobias. Thereafter, the protagonist who relishes torment but disallows tenderness suffers more bloodshed and sadistic mischief and chaos. Throughout the night, they hold a young couple hostage after they stumble upon a deceased technology mogul and a beautiful widow.

Roof Company Guy

A BBC1 children's TV programme begins. Detective Mike Mason ventures into the city for a day of street skating and dresses in a mix of leather and Yves Saint Laurent, and believes that no one is full of interesting surprises. Now he is secretly tired of attempting to fulfill his narcissistic plan to live in luxury for the remainder of his life. What could possibility happen to a man who wants be the last person to see the vicar?