As you can see I microwaved some peas and carrots and then I finished Brandon Gorrell's little book of poetry called, During my nervous breakdown i want a biographer present.  The cover made me want to punch someone in the face, not in a violent way, but in the same way old batman used to punch people in the 60's or 70's.  In a way I guess this  could be considered a compliment, but I'm not sure I want it to be.  To be honest, I think I'm comparing the cover to the production value of a television show from the seventies where grown men ran around in tights and these tights were awkward as shit usually a few notches less than skin tight.  To be honest though, the cover is kind of distracting.  It is a bit weak.  The actual feel of the book reminds me of mad libs.  But I think this was his goal or point.  I get the feeling Brandon Gorrell wants everyone to hate him.  Many times when I read this I thought, "What the fuck is this shit," and then other times I thought, "Oh cool,"  because his book talks about aliens.  Gorrell deserves some credit for the title which is probably the best part of the book. If my child was Brandon Gorrell I might be a little worried, but otherwise, no worries, his world is his world.  It's kind of too bad this book couldn't be judged as its own thing, but I feel you can't look at it without talking about Tao Lin which is kind of too bad, but it is what it is.