A great, sad boy once sang: "I'm so happy 'cause today I found my friends. They're in my head." I related to this great, sad boy, so I looked for friends in my head too.

I found them pretty easily, pinched their feet between my fingers, pulled them out my ear, and tipped them over like salt-shakers. Stories fell onto my writing desk and built into a mountain. They ranged from strange, to sad, to stupid. They became my Cheeky, Bloody Articles.

Two years later, I rifled through the B-Sides, gathering up stories that hadn't made the cut the first time 'round because they needed a trim and tidy. I looked them in the eye and said, "I know you're not the greatest, but it's your time to shine." Then I looked at my far smaller mountain of newly written stories, so youthful and naive in their school uniforms, so much left to learn. I put them on the page with all the B-Sides, and I thought: "Okay, you know, this might be something." That something is So Clever You're Thick.

In my newest collection of short stories, you will follow clichés down a rabbit hole: depressed clowns, virgin cheerleaders, masturbating teenage boys, and manic pixie dream girls. Hear them speak and watch them swallow. They have so much they're dying to show you.

"There exists a rare breed of storyteller who seamlessly intertwines the macabre with the comedic and crafts stories that both chill the spine and tickle the funny bone." — World's Best Magazine