Palm reader came into my house

I was all, excuse me?

She was like, are you busblog?

how do you know my name?

It’s written all over your face.

But it says Post Malone!

Where do you write?

I said what?

She said where do you write, this apartment is so tiny. I see no desk. I see a bed, piles of garbage, a kitchen table — do you write at the kitchen table?


Then where? The coffee table? Do you bend over that sad little coffee table?


So where?

The bed.

She didn’t believe me.

I said read my palm. She said what did you do today. I said i read the newspaper the other day and the writer asked homeless people what they wanted and they said they wanted warm clothes and coats and blankets. So today i had my favorite winter coat. I think my mom bought it for me like 10 years ago at Coats Unlimited. Fuzzy Things N Stuff.

What was it called? Something so weird.

Burlington Coat Factory?


You think that’s weird? She asked, looking through my junk drawers,

This guy was setting up his sleeping spot. It was 630pm. I knew the coat was in the trunk because i had worn it somewhere and i marveled at how great a coat it was. But i thought i wear this 2x a year. he will wear it every day.

he was so happy to have it.

i asked his name, he said, William.