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Ryan Robert Mullen

He was a complete and brilliant idiot. When she came home with the messed up hair, all unmade just how he liked her (he loved her) he didn't want to be. He didn't want to be there. He didn't want to be there scrunched over his computer like something kept in the closet that cares not for human touch and feel and faith and forever but only for strange intellectual planets fuzzy at the edge of his telescope mind. He did not want to be the square ol' husband, the beef and Idaho potatoes with Heinz ketchup - he wanted to be the fifty-seven flavors. He wanted to be found naked on the floor with a beautiful, barely legal nymphomaniac who wouldn't even stop when his wife opened the door and cried, "HOW COULD YOU! HOW COULD YOU! HOW COULD!" Vases crashing against the wall. How he wanted to hurt her, how he loved her so. How could she do this to him? He was a complete and brilliant idiot and such is the price of the last woman who looked like Audrey Hepburn - you had to share.


Ryan Robert Mullen. Born in 1981. Lives in Wisconsin. Dork. Reads. Writes. Enjoys women. Enjoys the sun. Has been loaded with the following programs: H. Miller, Burgess, Bukowski, Burroughs, Salinger, Steinbeck, W.T. Vollman, W.C. Williams, Bradbury, Gandhi, Ferlinghetti, G. Buddha, D. Thomas, Orwell, Hess, G. Stein, G. Marquez, T. Robbins, T. Capote, Brautigan, A. Nin, Vonnegut, J. Campbell, A. Huxley. "Yes, this is actually what I'm doing with my life."

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