Google: Damon Beres

Sometimes people arrive here from Google, which is concerning because, well, Googling my name happens to produce things like this, and I’d really rather everyone just see the good stuff, like a 600 word treatise against delicious cafeteria cookies or a number of short, cosmically significant spurts about how much I love my girlfriend (who has, for those keeping score at home, lost a point or two for disparaging my recent eBay acquisition of a Xorn action figure).

So rather than lying awake at night wondering what people will stumble upon in their desperate thirst for more Damon Beres, I decided to cull some of the choicest results and put them here. Because egg on the face is better when it’s on your terms, right? Like, over easy instead of scrambled?

I don’t know.


The aforementioned “preggo waffles” Urban Dictionary definition. Because sometimes, when you’re a high school junior malcontent who isn’t quite getting enough exposure on Xanga, these things need to happen.

(And no, you will not find my Xanga, ever.)

Douchey Blogger profile with lame high school interests. I really just couldn’t get enough No Doubt and Guitar Vader. This Blogger profile will lead you to a handful of my creative writing endeavors from high school, some of which are kind of awesome, actually.

My reviews on Paperback Reader, where I was “hired” as a writer. And by reviews, I mean review. It was a B+.

Evidence that I once entered an online competition to win a comic book. No, I didn’t win.

Evidence, if you’ll look in the comments section, that I used to be one of those Japan nerds in high school. (Also evidence that I used to be really unfunny, which has yet to change.)

Evidence that I’m a cat lady.

A number of angry New Yorkers absolutely carving into my ass on Curbed after my Gramercy Green story got a modicum of coverage in The New York Times last fall. “Oooh, if you read the NYT article and look at the photo of the kid, he looks like Mr. Hipster, Jr. The expression on his face is worth more than his condorm,” and “That kid looks like a total douche bag and his comments to the NYT indicate that, at least with respect to this tool, you can judge a book by its cover” being the harshest comments, I think. (I kind of like “Mr. Hipster, Jr,” though.)

Someone praising (?) me for an involved blog comment about Batwoman and Aquaman. I’m… totally into comic books, guys.

Proof that I’m published in a book that you can buy at Barnes and Noble.

– Yet another collection of my high school creative writing. A promising start to my featured piece: “The hospital smelled like someone pissed on Grandma.” 

Me commenting to Tina Fey that she is “The new Jesus.”

– Perhaps most frightful of all, a short film I made in high school. It’s complete nonsense and I cannot bring myself to watch it again, no sir.

And it kind of keeps going, but you get the gist. Probably, when I am trying to actually make something of myself, I will have to legally change my name, but it’s worth it for preggo waffles. By the time our children reach 20, I wonder how much they’ll have all over the internet, jeez Louise.

So. Anything juicy when you Google your name?


New fiction coming soon on this blog. Not my Deviant Art. Yeesh.


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