The fleeting nature of Space Squid’s content keeps things moving, and they’re only as good as what’s on the menu for the day.

“Gotta barricade the windows to keep that prick Mike’s devils out before they eat my eyes, anyway how’s the kids?”

Existence itself is weird. To be alive at all is statistically a slim chance.

It’s hard to not want to be creative when you’re noticing things.

Lemme see your weird little baby. 

Good weird is good-natured and makes you think by playfully thumbing its nose at what’s normal.

Every word must be vital to the story. If a piece makes sense without that word, phrase, sentence, paragraph, or page, cut it. 

It’s not about you, it’s about the work. And that work is the act of letting go. You have to make bad art before you make good art.

Anything featuring slutty bank presidents, nuns bent on revenge, or ex-President Chester A. Arthur.

Thoughtful thinking types have always been dismayed by how thoughtless t-rexes stomp all over everything good.

...in weirdness, the creator could identify as the dining room table a family is gathered around or the turkey they're eating.

The missing car keys don't always show their faces, but if one stops searching, it appears.

Anytime we put the soul first, it’s weird in a good way.

I need inspiration to write well, but it’s up to me to create the conditions and environment to be inspired.

Look at that weird woman in the ballerina costume carving life-size elves while a parrot sits on her shoulder.

Weirdness is a central organizing feature to my existence; it shapes what I read, watch, look at, listen to, think about, and talk about...

How someone could be so desperate for their loved one to come back to them that they would take them in any shape...