Things I Want To Do Before I Die That I Already Know I Won’t
Perform as G.G. Allin in a G.G. Allin cover band where instead of getting naked I put on more and more clothes and instead of shitting myself I eat nachos.
Dissect a wolf who died of natural causes in the middle school class room where I took Sex Ed, placing each of the wolf’s organs in a separate sealed display container, mislabeling the organs.
Walk into a room shaped exactly the size as I am.
Film a shot-for-shot remake of Scarface starring Tom Cruise as the Al Pacino character and a significantly elderly Al Pacino as the Michelle Pfeiffer character and with every word in the dialogue replaced with “mane.”
Go to Arby’s and order six of everything on the menu and take one bite of each item as they bring it out to me and then throw the rest on the floor for however long that takes and then at the end clean it all up by myself and then come back the next day and apply for a job and get the job.
Go to a park in perfect weather and spend an entire day laying on a blanket without the desire for food and not thinking anything except kind things about the other people and animals around me in the park.
Hear Project Pat tell me he likes my haircut.
Become really incredible at chess.
Popularize the acronym GGTTBAIMN (Gotta go to the bathroom and I mean Now) by becoming the first person to do that through the soles of my feet.
Ask my dad once more how he’s doing and receive a coherent, informative answer.
Cybersex Facebook-chat with Tom from Myspace.
Found “The Internet 2,” where you can’t type anything or post any pictures or go to any websites but just have this little hole in your bedroom where you can grunt or throw up everybody else can all hear it and smell it in their homes alone together along with all the sounds and nast all the other people are feeding into at once while on a small panel installed beside where the sun is a single square of color reflects the general emotional online-2 tone so that everybody else not online-2 at the present moment can also see it and understand it as the color and never not know.
Eat all the cookies currently existing or to be existing later thereby gaining so much weight the air is entirely made of human fat, but still be able to just hang out and do whatever in the meantime like go for a nice walk in the breeze.
Redesign the Cheerios box with a picture of Stephen Colbert being beheaded in front of his children.
Acquire & maintain in my apartment 86,400 working clocks of various design which as a group are set to every possible second in the day.
Watch a horde of Dachshunds swim out of the ocean all together at the same time then up a hill toward a small black cube with a mouth hole in it into which the dogs one by one disappear.
Sweat spaghetti.
Get so many piercings I don’t have any skin left and just walk around jangling in the daylight handing out coupons for free piercings to little boys and girls at the mall.
Get paid to lay around fantasizing about ridiculous garbage without having to write it down or tell anybody or remember that I thought it.
Open an email that has a live baby inside it and begin to worship the baby but then one day accidentally leave it outside too long in the sun.
Be thrown with great force through a sky-wide scrim of horses.
Shave Robert Smith’s head with a butter knife.
Take a photograph of the sun that becomes the most famous photo of the sun ever taken.
Go as a Mexican restaurant for Halloween, constructing a costume so intricate and believable that people actually try to come up and open my doors and go inside me.
Befriend an elderly Mexican woman who will come to my house in the late evenings and cook whatever comes to mind using fresh calorie-free ingredients that have appeared in the refrigerator overnight and feed me with an electronic device that requires no hand or attention on my part while I lay on the floor and look at the wall or listen to music if I feel like hearing music, who will let me pay her by reading whatever book I happen to be reading aloud but will still leave somehow with her pockets full of enough money each night to live happily and support her family, and when I’m not hungry or not home she’ll know not to come without requiring contact.
Walk into a room full of everything I’ve ever eaten again reconstituted into how it was before I ate it.
Shoot a clean free throw reliably.
Find a shell on the beach that has a mouth that speaks Italian and when people ask me questions I can just hold up the shell. 
