Why The Hell Do I Even Bother?

you know
there's a lot of stupid laws in this country
like
in california
where i live
you can't buy booze between the hours of two in the morning and six
for the life of me i can't imagine why
like
if you show up at one thirty
you can buy a fucking truckload of booze
but
at two
your ass is grass

(as the kids say these days)

but that's the law, daddy
live with the motherfucker
and
yeah
it sucks like a hoover
but
they can't ever change it
cuz
there'd be dipshits
yelling
'it's after two and i bought booze!
yeeeee haw!'
and
then
there'd be a car wreck
or
a murder
or
fucking
whatever

you can't even smoke in bars anymore

what the fuck is that shit?

why can't we have a law where
there are these signs
one has a lit cigarette on it
and
another has a cigarette
with one of those
big red circle crosses on it?

and the owner of the bar gets to choose?

that way
you'd know which bar to go to
you could go where you want to go

some bars would have smoking
some wouldn't

everything would be cool

but

that would never happen

wanna know why?

because then we'd be free

that's why

i hate this stupid fucking world

logic should always win

but

that will never happen either

welcome to the world these days!

stupid people win

and

it's all about bending over

grease up, gang

and smile at the watchmen

it's only gonna get worse...

Kicked In The Butt By City Hall

when i was about 18 i actually called the city. i wanted to know how i could get help with my fucked up mind. after about nine hours and about fifty four forwards to other people it turned out that, since i'd never kill anybody or blow up a bank or anything that i was pretty much on my own.

they could help me if i was dangerous but, if i was just a pain in the ass i was fucked.

story of my goddamn life, gang...

The "P" Word

hebbs
(a net friend)
has a prob with the word

'pussy'

(being a rather proper noun)

(if you ask me)

now
it doesn't bother me
as a word
i actually think it's pretty pretty
and
i didn't bring this up
i read it about two weeks ago
and
i've been thinking about it

(um...
not THAT much!
calm
the
fuck
down!)

and

well

how about "toaster"?

it's warm
and it makes loafs rise

and

um?
visually?
sideways?

you know

i'm just putting it out there...

Pants

wait a minute here!

we've now got cars that can park themselves?

where the hell are my vr pants and marilyn monroe chip?

Humor 101

there really is this new trend
this thing where we live in such a pc ridden
bullshit
pussy ass country
that being weird is passing for funny
shit like family guy
and borat
and tom greene

i just saw the first 5 minutes of jackass 2
and
it's a freak show
there is no comedy structure

bulls running around smashing shit up and some schmuck's dick in a sock taking on a snake?
that's NOT FUNNY
it's pee pee ca-ca wee wee schoolyard crap

try some marx brothers
get into w.c. fields
snort some bill hicks
check out firesign
eat a plate of zappa

that's fucking anarchy, gang

Thing

you know that thing?

where you need something
or
maybe you just want it real bad
and fool yourself into needing it
but you can't say what it is
(and you're not just being coy)
because if you say it
it will happen because you mentioned it
and that's not the same as it
actually happening?

i feel that way everyday...

Saturday Afternoon

so

this friend of my grandmother has lost her mind. she was a sharp old broad, very funny, very cool with her herd of pets. so cool that she took my cat to the cat killer place when the cat was falling apart because i'm just way too much of a wimp to do that kind of thing myself. and she caught this flu or something that knocked her old lady ass into bed and, after the flu went away so did her mind and she's now in an old folks home where she gets lost on the way from her room to the dining room and she doesn't have her animals anymore and her daughter got her a stuffed dog and she petted it and thought that it was a real dog and asked her daughter if the dog might bite. and she used to be so together and now she's all in pieces.

i heard about this
and i snapped a bit

and i drank a lot
and slept a lot
and i woke up
and drank a lot
and slept a lot
because i'm an old fuck
and i'm afraid for my mind

and now it's saturday

how have you guys been?

Them Wacky Gays

i really
kinda
side with them gay folk
i won't top
or bottom
or nothing
but i do tend to side with them
they're really just people trying to be who they are
just trying to survive
and not cry too much

i have got to respect that
honesty being best and all
life being live

besides

if we wipe them out
who'd be next?

people who just aren't happy?
people who don't give a shit about big useless cars?
people who like to suck down some booze and a bowl of smoke and watch 'the outer limits'?
people who laugh at how stupid we are?

you know

'those weirdos'?

you know

me?

or

you know

you?

Oh!

you're aware that i don't know fuck all about what i'm talking about

right?

they're all just theories

i'm only a genius/moron

i'm just a putz with a keyboard

and

you are the only you

run with that motherfuckers...

psssssst...

(i want you guys to stop thinking about the carrot
you should be thinking about who's holding the string)

Fuck!

fuck videos
fuck mtv
fuck vh1
fuck bet
fuck soul train
fuck your mom
fuck your dad
fuck your teacher
fuck that guy from high school
fuck being sheepish
fuck your radio
fuck your tv
fuck your pod
fuck the net
fuck file sharing
fuck broadband
fuck rap
fuck american idol
fuck that guy with the cool car and the bass speakers
fuck top 40
fuck dancing with the stars
fuck the world
fuck you
fuck me
fuck everything

what ever fucking happened to songs?

You Know, Love Ain't All That Bad

there's gotta be a word for it. most likely something
yiddish or something. like:

SMURFEL: even though you pretty much hate everything
and want it all to explode in a big ass bloody mess
there are some moments wherein you just wanna swoon
deeply and say something stupid like, "Wow! Nice
tummy!".

or

FLOYNBEE: a deep seated feeling that everything is
really okay after all and that you should shut the
hell up and just groove on it.

maybe

GURFSHULS: so goddamn cute in every sense of the word
that you just melt into a puddle of goop in your shoes
even.

something like that

not that exactly

but

you know

something like that...


(for Heather Michelle)

Voting No On Yes

i honestly feel that it's your RIGHT to vote
and
your DUTY to vote WISELY
seeing as to how i don't know beans about politics
i don't vote

maybe
just
maybe
you should stay out of it too

i mean
you wouldn't operate on a brain
or
pilot an airplane
would you?

not unless you knew how?

so

why fuck around with an entire country?

Learning Is Free (sort of)

you never hear about some guy (or gal, let's be fair here) who goes to hell and it turns out that he (or she) should really go to heaven. it's always the other way things go. that god guy is always in charge. look! everything's cool. just don't be an asshole (or a cunt, let's be fair again). it all works out in the end. forget about the glossy stuff, blow off your ego, fuck the pride and live life like a nice person. you don't have to believe in god. you don't have to believe in anything. just stop believing in being a dip shit and it will all work out. it's all out there. everything can work if you just shut the fuck up. it's my world as well. try to listen. then stop. read more. notice that glitter is pointless. wait in line. take naps while awake. let your fist rest. love art. love being wrong. love love. love learning.

learn.

learn.

let yourself learn.

being wrong is learning.

kill your mask.

grow the fuck up.

screw god.

screw your guru.

screw you.

learn.

learn to love to learn.

9ine

was thinking about ernest borgnine today and i thought, that's just what i need. an earnest borg 9.

aw, blow me. i thought it was funny.

ungrateful jerks...

Popes

if they get to the point wherein they elect a pope called john paul georgearingo i'll think about joining the church

you know

i'll think about it

Dreaming (again)

i was reading 'on the road'. kerouac, right? born march 12, just like me. i'm holding the book in my right hand because my left hand, the fem side hand, the heart side hand, the love hand, if you will is holding a foot. not gripping it tightly just holding, kind of cuddling the foot. the heal of my hand is resting in the arch of the foot and, when i look down at them this hand/foot combo looks sort of like two fish, one swimming up the other down. pisces time, right? the owner of the foot is a blonde who face is obscured by her hair. she's playing a video game and the door opens and this guy is standing there. his pissed and obviously her husband (sometimes you just KNOW these things, right?). he shakes his finger at us and says, 'why don't you two just fucking fuck awready?', and storms out of the room. she turns to me and says, 'what the fuck was that all about?', pronouncing the word 'about' 'a-boot'. big canada cloo, fo shore. i shrug my shoulders and reply, 'you got me on that one...' and we snuggle closer together.

and i wake up

thinking

if all my dreams were like this
i'd understand the whole goddamn universe.

Grim Facts

oingo boingo did not do 'turning japanese' it was the vapors
the kinks did not do 'what i like about you' it was the romantics
devo did not do 'pop musik' it was m (robin scott)
the tubes song 'she's a beauty' is not called 'one in a million girls'
almost every parody song that you have ever heard was not done by weird al they were done by asshole dj's and most of them aren't even all that funny
disco still sucks
myspace blows
peta is a scam
if you think that praise is the same as love you should seek help
soup actually is good food
and
freddy would have kicked jason's ass

did i leave anything out?

Wrap This!

lemme get this TOTALLY straight
you know
in case there's a test or something later
rap stars are just telling about what their lives are really like?
so what?
so did the beatles, the who, the kinks, joe jackson, devo, oingo boingo, laurie anderson, the dead kennedys, fats waller, the the, frank zappa, and paul simon
and that's just off the top of my head
and they don't suck or wear a gold hub cap on a giant stupid ass gold chain

Hear Here

you know what i don't hear very often these days?
'what the fuck does that mean?'
i think you should ask that a lot
even if you already know
just to see if the motherfucker knows what they're talking about...

The End Of "Con Air"

cyrus 'the virus'
is stuck to the front of a firetruck
and
he crashes through a glass skywalk
and
lands on high voltage wires
then
drops to a conveyor belt
where
he gets his head crushed by a pile driver
that's
just randomly smashing things at night
with
nobody around to supervise it?

that's not cinema, gang

that's MOVIEMAKING!!!

Here's The News

sometimes
while i'm flipping through the channels
i'll see some newscaster chick
droning on about some lame ass story
that doesn't really have a goddamn thing
to do with my life
and
i know that it's being broadcast live
so
i say rude things to her image
dirty things
twisted things
evil things
sick and nasty things
the kinds of things that i don't even write down here
cuz
i'm thinking
she might be psychic
and
you know
fuck newscasters, man...

Nov - 01 - 2006

i was thinking of posting some sort of halloween thing last night but i'm all broke and didn't have any beer or chocolate or anything and felt all bad and hated the entire world so i figured, 'screw those guys! what am i? halloween boy or something?' so i didn't even bother trying to figure something out which turned out kinda cool cuz i didn't have to worry about spelling things and that was fun for me to not have to bother doing. zounds! this earl grey can really kick your butt into overdrive, huh? aw, well... back to silent hill 3. it actually looks like i'm gonna hafta kill god. i hope it's a bad god though because i think that killing a good god would look really bad on my resume. or maybe that's just me. does anyone else hear those really noisy bats flying around outside? maybe that's just me as well. oh, wow! i just rembered that 'lost' is on tonight! monstro super cooly coolness! of course, what with halloween over we're sliding into christmas and that means i'll have to have dinner with the family. twice. so now i'm all pissed off that i'm not drinking. if you only take one thing away from this message let it be this: it never ends, kids. you might get a moment's rest now and then but, in a basic sense it just never ends...

Monday, 4:32 AM

i was standing in the kitchen
nothing on but the refrigerator light
scanning the contents for a snack
or two
the cat meowed and i bent to scratch her head
back pain set in
yet again
that good old throb in the lower portion of my spine
hurts like a mo-fo, gang
i don't even like to talk about it very often
but
i was thinking about how it's worth it
how i was trading a cat-touch for a body ache
how most of us wouldn't bother
how afraid we are of pain
danger
taking a chance
going out on a limb
how childhood can really create some lame ass people
what a great world it could be if we could learn to...

and then i thought

WOW!

a cold hot dog dipped in leftover chili!

Help, Mr. Wizard!

i could hang out with the cool crowd
avoiding those who drool loud
sliding 'tween the pain
(bah bah bop bah boodoodley bop)
i could grease every door hinge
maybe find a rhyme for orange

if i only wasn't strange...

T.V. Jibe

know what i think the problem is?

i think it's satellite tv. you got these guys in these video backward countries and they're seeing stuff like pizza hut ads, drew barrymore getting humped from behind in 'poison ivy', long cool glasses of budweiser, maya wearing a tight turtleneck on 'just shoot me', old madonna videos (way back when she was a babe. remember those?), shirley manson's see through shirt in the 'queer' video that garbage did, victoria's secret ads, cool ass looking car ads, they're getting into fights about who's hotter, mary ann or ginger or , you know, becky or darlene, and getting all hot and bothered by pretty much anything with gwen stefani in it and they can't get the final jeopardy answer correct and they can't believe that we're so advanced that we have shit that makes the pain go away if you apply it directly to your forehead and their minds snap and they go, 'know what? fuck it! let's just blow the fucker up!'.

it's like i've always said, 'if you can't handle the heat drop the fucking remote.'.

i'm a grumpy old fat ass and that's my review...

Something To Do When You Get Rich

1) Buy a bunch of cheap vases that all look the same. Like, 50 of them or so and stick a single fake flower in each one.
2) Put them all in a cupboard, stacked very nice.
3) Get a small table. About a foot by a foot across with a flat top and four legs, about four feet high.
4) Saw one of the legs off and put it near a light switch.
5) Put a vase on it.
6) When you're showing your house to someone new reach for the light switch and knock the table over, making the vase break on the floor.
7) Stand the table back up, open the cupboard, put a fresh vase on it.
8) Say, "Fuck! I hate when that happens!".
9) Continue showing the rest of the house and never mention it again.

A Pause That Refreshes

why don't all these doctors and chemists and shit stop fucking around with trying to make our minds 'cured' with zoloft and all and invent something that just fucks you up for a while? something that can't kill you, isn't addictive, and just jacks your head nine ways from sunday?

'doc! the wife's on my ass, i can't make the car payment, and i'm stressed like son of a bitch. what should i do?'

'hmmmmmm... take two of these and go to vegas.'

come Monday morning the dude shows up at work and says, 'i dunno about you clowns but my weekend was fucking amazing! is that the time? shit! i gotta pile of work i gotta get done! see you guys at lunch!'

they could call it fukitall
have the pills pink
shaped like little tits or something

ax for it by name!

Snakes

the snakes in spain stay mainly on the mother fucking plane

Links To Lameness

used to be
people would forward you stupid things
like blonde jokes
and chain mail
about how to save some poor fucker's life by clogging up your friend's in boxes

now
people send you links to lame ass videos
of kids running around back yards
with an old chicago song
or some shit like 'the house at pooh corner'
laid into the background

these assholes must be wiped out in our lifetime

won't you please help?

Planes

there's a movie coming out about world war one flying aces
i'm really curious about that
i fucking love dog fights with planes

planes fighting other planes?
guns firing?
all that chaos?
like in the end of 'a new hope'?
the trying for the exhaust port murder/death/kill/wrap the movie up/james bond thing?
i fucking love that shit!

in fact, that's a lot of why i hate the other star wars movies.

it's like,
beat the first one, mo-fo!
(or maybe the fourth one. at this point i dunno anymore)
when they go for the death star is the best stuff fucking ever, man!.

my point being:

i love seeing things flying around all askew
i love things blowing up
i love the madness of it
i love the crashes
i love the anti normal

it's soothing

i get calm

it's like watching the inside of my fucking head
from a distance;...

Poetry For Mobsters

"JERSEY BY MOONLIGHT"

Three shots rang out
the noise bouncing off of the brick walls
that lined the alley
behind Big Tony Monstasquigleoni's Bar and Grill
it sounded like somebody had thrown a housecat
into a fucking gong
like they got in one of those pagodas
or some shit like that
The first bullet hit that Louie
the scumbag poodle fucking motherfucker
in the crook of his arm
it blew his fucking elbow
out the back of his shirt sleeve
funny bone and all

(I swear I heard it clank into one of those dumpsters Big Tony's got back there
but I could be wrong)

Anyways...

The second slug
entered Louie's belly
blood shot out of his stomach
like some big ass weightlifter fuck
had shoved a tomato into a fucking funnel
so hard that spaghetti sauce sprayed out the small end

(He was really screaming now
"Oh,fuck! I'm fucking shot!
Please don't kill me!
Please,God,please!"

I'm telling you
you should've been there
it was fucking great!)

The third bullet
hit that scumbag
square in the mouth
and the back of his head
fucking exploded
baad-ah-bang!

"Hey,asshole!"
I laughed
"I betcha won't be messing with my wife anytime soon!
at least...
not till you get a new fucking face!"

Hey,Bobby?
Where's our waitress?
She's got my scotch and soda...



"BAD NIGHT NO.12"

I lift him up
I drop him
I lift him up
I drop him
I lift him up
I fucking drop him

If you're going to drink
don't try to hang a squeeler on a meat hook



"REFLECTIONS OF LOVE"

You tell me you love me
that you'll always be mine

You tell me you'll need me
until the end of time

You tell me want me
like two turtledoves

So why can't you tell me
how to get this fucking blood stain out of my rug?

Be A Jerk, Save A Tree

You know those little cards?

The ones stuck inside magazines?

The ones with the postage already on them so if you want to join a CD club or get a plate with Elvis on it or whatever all you have to do is fill it out and stick it in a mail box? I hate those damn things. I'm looking at a TV Guide, a Playboy, or something and I can't control the pages because the magazine keeps automatically flipping to the page with the card! I hate that to death! Don't you too? What the hell can be done about those damn things?

Well...
I have a job for you. Consider it a social experiment. An art project. Hell! If it works for you feel free to consider it as being a good old American pain in the ass.

The next time you find yourself trapped in the evil web of those stinking cards simply tear it out of the magazine, write "NO THANKS, TREE KILLER!!!" on it, and mail it away. Do it as often as you can. All the time everytime and get your friends to do it too. Have them get their friends to do it. And their friends of friends. It would be a chain protest! Pretty cool, ain't it? It'd be like throwing tea in the harbor! Good old American ass pain, kids!

See...
the reason those cards are in magazines is because they are monetarily valid. I mean, enough people are stupid enough to order things with those cards that they turn a profit for the companies that pay to have them stuck into our magazines. It's like those annoying pop up ads or that lousy AOL (can you believe that AOL still makes enough money a year to be able to afford sending out those free CD ROM discs? I get one of those damn things in the mail every twenty seconds or so. It's like something out of a Douglas Adams novel, for crying out loud).

It seems to me the most effective way to get rid of those cards would be to somehow make them monetarily INVALID. Every one that goes through the postal system is that much more postage that the company has to pay and if they end up paying for nothing over and over and over again it seems to me like they'd get the message eventually and stop polluting our magazines with their mindless crap. See what I'm getting at here?

Now:
You don't have to write "NO THANKS, TREE KILLER!!!" on it. You can write anything you'd like. "GO YANKEES!" would work. As would "HI, MOM! CAMP IS GREAT!", "THE PRESIDENT IS FULLA BEANS!", or, my personal favorite "STUFFING! NOT POTATOES!" (get cryptic on the bastards. Screw with their heads. Have fun with it!). You really shouldn't write anything too dirty though. It would really suck if it got back to you and you had to go to court for writing "KISS MY FUCKING ASS, YOU NAZI DICK LICKERS!!!" on some stupid little postcard. Then again, you might end up on 20/20 and get a sit-com out of it. Who knows? All I'm saying here is that I don't recommend you swear, cuss, or use the lord's name in vain. There's no reason to be snotty if you can just be annoying. I think my dad said that once and, if he didn't he should have.

Anyway, you are now on your own. I have planted seeds and if they sprout or not is your business.

It's your world. Have fun with it.

Or don't...

The Monster

Night

Darkness cracked by lightning
The kites are flying
The switches have been thrown

The monster awakes

“Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnggggggggghhhhhhhhh!”

He growls
And smiles a crooked smile

“Me have story to tell

He looks into a mirror
To straighten his tie
The mirror shatters
Raining tiny pieces to the floor

“Huuummm...”

He thinks

“Gonna be one of those lives?
me need drink...”

He laughs
Slaps the doctor
His creator
On the back

(a little too hard}

The doctor stumbles foreward
And falls from a window
To his death

The monster shrugs his shoulders
And sets off toward town.

The Goldfish Piece

I got this fish.

A goldfish, you know? His name is Dave, Dave the goldfish. And all he does. All he ever does, man, is swim in his bowl. That's his whole life, that bowl. And he's swimmin'. Swimmin' around and around in his bowl. Around and around in his bowl and I thought…

Hey!

My man the fish needs a change, a new look at his life and the life that exists around him. A piece of greenscreen behind that little castle that sits atop those colored rocks that line the bottom of his world and that little castle, man, the one that he never seems to use (at least he doesn't seem to use it while I'm awake).

And I thought I could take him to Marineland or something. A trip to his own private gene pool to see his ancestors and brethren. A higher link in the foodchain of fishlife.

Or out on a boat. Looking bird's eve view wise at my buddy bud's homeland.

A new bowl perhaps? A larger than large, tank type, mansion sized lake of a cage with room to move, man. With room to scoot.

And then, captured in the moment I flashed away, man. I went to a mindspace where all fish are equal and freedom is the only buzzword and people (humans, you know?), we should be kinder to the souls of the sea. And I thought, man…fish need help. My fish needs help. And me? I'm the type of guy who could…I mean, I am just the kind of guy who could help fish and people band together in a life of love and honor. A whole wide world where nobody has to worry and time alone will be in charge of everyone and everything that we happen to…

And then it hit me.

Hey, fuck it!

He is just a goldfish, man…



(Mar. 1996)

Time Wuz

Time was...
I hated time
It just kept moving
On and on and on
Ever foreward without a rest
I aged right along with it
Slowly becoming my father
(Like I need that shit)

Time was...
I dreaded time
And it's cousins Entropy and Chaos
Things fall apart
(My mind is proof of that)
Someday my cat will be dead
(I think of things like that)
One day nobody will remember Jack Nance
(I worry about stuff like that)

But...

I saw you Saturday night
And changed my mind
(Yet again)
Sometimes
Time is cool!
And if you don't believe me
Go find a mirror
And look at yourself real close
Both
On the outside
And on the inside

See?
I told you!

In Advance Of The Big One

Boom, boom, boom
Crash, crash, crash
The earthquake is coming to town
He knows when you’ve been sleeping
And he knows when you’re awake
But he doesn’t give a shit about that stuff

Houses
Cars
Stores
Mirrors
Windows
Books
Televisions
Cats
Dogs
Goldfish
People

Any and all manner of nouns
Will be destroyed
Or lost in the rubble of his wake

But, hey!
Look on the bright side

So will many poets

Problems

She asked me
“What’s the deal
Why are there so many problems
In the world?
Who’s to blame?
How do we make everything okay?”

“Women...”,
I answered
“It all rests on chicks.”

She was insulted by this
Wondered what the hell I meant
How could I be so rude
And thoughtless?

“Look...”,
I replied
“If all of the wives
And girlfriends
And secretaries
And whatever
Of all of the oil company guys
And chemical plant owners
And factory owners
Said...
‘Hey!
Clean up this planet
Or I’ll never sleep with you again!
We would all be living on the cleanest planet
In the whole damn universe.”

She thought about this
And then slapped me
In the face
As hard as she could

Chicks, man

I don’t know…

Bridgehoser's Holiday

The clock strikes five
And I pack my shit away
The mops and nozzles and rubber boots
I grab my pen and my notebook
Hop in the car
And head for the airport

The boss is waiting at the fork in the road
"Hey! You've got a job to do!
You haven't finished!
Don't you wanna get paid?"

"Fuck you, buddy!"
I yell, from the safety of my car
And throw my thinking cap out the window
"I'm on vacation!"
I exclaim
As I drive off into the evening

God!
I love this country!

Where wasting time is a birthright.

Road

Life…
It's like a road
Long
Never ending
Twists
And turns
Forks and underpasses
Other people's cars
Burnt and hollowed out
Over turned and blocking the way
You swerve to miss them
But have to look
Fascinated by the flames and burnt bodies

And as you strain to listen to their radios

And as you smell gasoline and burnt rubber
You sometimes miss your exit
And then you think
"What the fuck did I do to deserve this?"

But

Keep driving none the less
For someday
Someday soon
You'll be home
Safe and sound
Without a care in the world
Without a single problem
Without a single teardrop

And it will all come together
Again…

Ducks And Rabbits

Look…

There’s really only two types of people
Ducks and Rabbits
Trust me on this

DUCKS:
The ducks want things
Anything and everything
For no fuckin’ reason at all
Just like Daffy, the duck on TV

RABBITS:
Rabbits just wanna have fun
Anytime and everytime
For no fuckin’ reason at all
Just like Bugs, the rabbit on TV

DUCKS:
The ducks like to push the rabbits around
It proves to the ducks that they are right
Ducks are like that
They need to be right all the time
Why is this?
(because deep down the ducks know that they are wrong)
It’s Freud or something like that…

RABBITS:
Rabbits like to fuck around with the ducks
Why?
Because it’s fun to watch the ducks shit bricks!
That’s why!

So there you go
Ducks and Rabbits
And that’s all there really…

Oh, shit!

I forgot about the ELMERS!

ELMERS:
Elmers like to kill the ducks and rabbits
With guns and bombs
And all of that stupid shit
Just like Elmer, the guy on TV
Why?
Why do the Elmers want to kill the ducks and rabbits?

Easy…

The Elmers never watch TV
Oh, they look at it
But they don’t really watch
They don’t learn from it
They don’t know how to dream
And that’s why the Elmers like to kill the ducks and rabbits because the ducks and rabbits are dreamers
They’re full of dreams
And the Elmers hate dreamers
For the Elmers know not the truth
And here it is
Here’s the truth

It’s a gift from me to you…

THOSE WHO FAIL TO DREAM
ARE DOOMED TO ONLY SLEEP

And just how do I know that it’s the truth?
How can I be sure?

That’s easy too…

I’m a rabbit
And I dreamt it.

And if you don’t agree with me
And you think I’m full of shit
Then you are a Duck
Or an Elmer
And my theory has just been proven correct

And you are more than welcome to kiss my cotton tailed ass, Doc!



(Feb. 2001)

A Musical Piece

INT. A USED RECORD STORE ON MELROSE – DAY

He’s thumbing through some albums.

D. CAT
Lemme talk about music for a minute or three, huh?

He holds up a used copy of “The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars”.

D. CAT
This is my favorite album of all time. I got my first copy back in 1972. I was in high school at the time. I heard a couple of tunes on the radio and flipped out. Back then rock and roll was all but dead. All that was going on was the tail end of that hippie drippy crap. The Beatles had broken up a couple of years before and there was this country hippie thing going on. I hated it. Twangy guitars and blue jeans that made me feel like an old man sitting on a porch with a glass of lemonade and a big hairy dog curled up at my feet. I’m from the city, man. I wanted to hear the sound of neon lights. Car wrecks. Music to throw chairs through windows by. I was sixteen years old and I feared getting older bad enough on my own. Bowie saved me. And Alice Cooper too. And T. Rex. Glitter Rock was fucking beautiful.

CUT TO:

ANOTHER PART OF THE STORE – A FEW MOMENTS LATER

He stands at a record rack.

D. CAT
Not too long after that disco hit and it hit big too. GEEZUZ! I hated that crap even more! Mindless, heartless, moronic shit. Music to get laid by. It sucked then and it still sucks now. The only people who listen to that junk these days are people who weren’t around and rocking when it was new. “Ring My Bell”? “Fly Robin Fly”? Fucking “Night Fever”? Gimme a break, huh? “Saturday Night Fever”? What about the guy who jumped off the bridge? What happened to the guy who didn’t want to be a priest anymore? I hate that fucking movie and the music sucks even worse in retrospect.

He holds up a copy of The Ramones first album and sighs.

D. CAT
Then these mother fuckers came along. Just some assholes from the east coast who couldn’t take it anymore. They kicked ass and didn’t give a shit how you felt about it. I hated them. For years.

He holds up the soundtrack of “Rock And Roll High School”.

D. CAT
Until I saw this movie. About a half an hour into it my head exploded. These cats were fucking funny, man! They seemed to be saying “Fuck You!” and, well... isn’t that what rock and roll is all about? I mean, it is to me anyway.

STILL ANOTHER PART OF THE STORE – MOMENTS LATER

D. CAT
About the same time I was pissing and moaning about The Ramones I was flipping through the radio dial and I heard three songs that changed my life forever.

He holds up a copy of Devo’s “Are We Not Men?”

D. CAT
These guys did a ball busting cover version of “Satisfaction”. It fucking rocked! It pealed paint off of walls, made parents break down in tears, and blew up speakers all over the world. Most of my friends couldn’t stand it and thought I was insane for liking it. This made it even more important to me. I was never a huge Rolling Stones fan and, if a cover of one of their most famous tunes pissed the die hard fans off that much it MUST be great. It was. And it still is.

YET ANOTHER PART OF THE STORE – MOMENTS AFTER THAT

He holds up a copy of the first B-52’S album.

D. CAT
Another song was “Rock Lobster”. It was so...WEIRD! I went nuts! Funny as all fuck and rocked like a son of a bitch. I love these guys. Lots. Um...

He flips through some more records and holds up a copy of Blondie’s “Parallel Lines”.

D. CAT
...these guys...and Debbie...

He kisses the album cover. M’wah!

D. CAT
...they had a disco song called “Heart Of Glass”. BLAH! DISCO? Yeah, I know. One night I was very drunk and had the radio on. So drunk that when “Heart Of Glass” came on I was too lazy to change the station. I laid there and actually listened to the lyrics. I ran out the next day, bought the album, and shit a brick. The Blondies quickly became my favorite group, “Plastic Letters” being another one of my most favorite albums ever. Boy. When Chris got sick? Well...I’d rather not talk about it.

EXT. RECORD STORE

d.cat steps outside.

D. CAT
I need a drink. How about you?

He steps to the curb, sticks out his right hand, and screams as if hailing a cab.

D. CAT
YO, BUS!

A bus pulls up, screeches to a halt, and the doors open. He turns as he boards it and smiles.

D. CAT
I love when that happens!

Night Calls (a dark one)

Night calls
And I'm walking
Drunk on moonlight

And hunger
I see you up the street
And I move

Closer
Closer
And closer still

Until I touch you
Scant moments pass
And you go from warm to cold

So I seat you at the bus stop
And glide away
Into the black

My hunger is gone
Until tomorrow
When again I'll rise

And search the dark
For another
Just like you

My Sister's Brain

My sister wasn’t very smart. It wasn’t her fault or anything she was simply not born with a very active brain. Not to say that she was an idiot, she was just a chick with an average intelligence.

Here’s an example of her brain:

Let’s call her chick “A”, okay? And let’s say she had two friends, chick “B” and chick “C”. When chick A was hanging around with chick B they would they would gossip and talk shit about chick C behind her back and, when chick A was hanging around with chick C they would gossip and talk shit behind chick B’s back. Nothing wrong with this of course. It’s just chick nature. The thing was though, it never occurred to chick A that when chick B and C were alone they were gossiping and talking shit behind chick A’s back. Chick A had no idea that her friends really didn’t think that she was very together or that she had the slightest clue about either herself or the world around her.

Pretty strange, huh?

Strange but true, dear reader. Strange but true.

In fact, this could very well apply to your own life.

Your friends might not think that you are anywhere near as together and wonderful as you think you are. They may think you are a fucking headcase and just as much of a pain in the ass as you think they are but they never tell you to your face simply because they are afraid of being whacked in the skull by flying furniture as you tear the room apart screaming that nobody really loves you and you’ll show them all a thing or two one of these days, goddamit!

Take a tip from me. If you don’t honestly consider the kinds of things that are spoken about you behind your back and realize that you do a lot of really, really stupid things from time to time there’s a pretty good chance that you are a total asshole. Having a positive attitude won’t change this. Keeping up on your daily affirmations won’t change this. Praying to whatever god you believe in and hoping He, She, or It will show you the way and make everything alright won’t change this. You have to look at yourself honestly and decide what to do from there or you will stay a total asshole for the rest of your life.

How do I know this?

That’s easy! Most people I know think I’m a fucking jerk off who should shut the fuck up now and then and get a fucking life.

They also wonder how I let myself get so goddamn fat and how I can spend so much time alone with my face pressed against a TV screen when there is a whole wide world out there and I really should grab for that brass ring and what’s the deal with those T-shirts and Converse shoes anyway? Weird? His motherfuckin’ face should be in the dictionary under the word weird for Christ’s sake! SON OF A BITCH! THAT COCKSUCKER REALLY PISSES ME RIGHT THE FUCK OFF SOMETIMES! NO FUCKING SHIT, MAN! I’M TOTALLY SERIOUS ON THIS SHIT! WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK IS WRONG WITH THAT ASSHOLE?

See how easy that was? And, you know what? It doesn’t bother me in the least. Why? Because I feel the exact sort of things about them from time to time.

The fucking dorks.

Crack? WHACK!

I think the government must be behind crack. Why else would it be so easy to get a hold of? Besides, I find it hard to believe that some broke jerks are hiding in a house in a bad neighborhood somewhere making the stuff in their bathroom. The main ingredient is cocaine, for Christ’s sake! That stuff costs a fortune if you buy it by the gram. What’s it cost to make a shitload of crack? Oh…a couple of zillion dollars? I’m not real good with numbers but I bet I’m in the ballpark.

Scoring the stuff is pretty gross too. You pull up on a side street and these rejects from “Return of the Living Dead” amble up to the truck, moaning like zombies, “Less brains. Less brains…” then you make the deal and they hand you a rock. Out of their mouths! No lie! You give them money and they pull a piece of crack out of their mouths and hand it over to you. See…the stuff is compressed so solid that it melts in your pipe and not in your mouth. You could swallow the shit and it wouldn’t hurt you. Or so they say. I’m not gonna try it to find out but if you have any beer feel free to give me a call.

I think that if you’re caught even holding crack the cops should shatter your kneecaps with a nightstick. It should be mandatory. Crack? Whack! Then, every week they should have these losers as guests on shows like “Oprah” and “DR. Phil”. The host would show you a semi-circle of eight or ten of these assholes in leg casts and wheelchairs and go down the line, one by one. “Are you ever going to do crack again?” “Are you fucking serious, Jerry? Look at my legs!” I bet it wouldn’t take very long for the next generation of kids to get the idea.

It’d be Pavlov by way of television.

Crack = broken legs and hospital food.

It’d work like a charm.

And another thing while I’m at it:

How come you never see sports heroes doing public service announcements that say, “Kids? Stay in school and learn to read. Look what it did for me!”? Then you’d pull back and see the guy sitting around a pool with a squad of bikini clad babes playing catch with a beach ball in the shallow end as he hits you with a big ass toothy smile and a full on thumbs up. After seeing this three or four times kids would be throwing their TV sets out the window and begging for a trip to the local library.

If you know what I mean.

Tax The Trendy!

screw those dorks!

tax cigarettes
tax cigarettes
tax cigarettes

how about putting a tax on your sacred grande sized coffee?
or those goddamn energy drinks that nobody really needs?
both of which are gonna give your ass a monstro heart attack one of these days?

well...
nobody will EVER tax that shit
know why?
because it's totally fine to be a cranked up money mad suv driving asshole
most people are so it must be a great thing

but those smokers?
fuck them!

(someday someone's gonna get murdered by somebody who was stressed because they couldn't find a butt to light up. and, when the guy wins his court case with the landmark 'smoker's defense' the shit's really gonna start coming down. wait and see, tweakers. wait and see.)

Dali Say...

"Liquid Television! My last invention. Put liquid on hands - TV appear! TV will one day becoming correlated with DNA. Everything mechanical will collaspe except cybernetic machines!"

- Salavador Dali
TV Guide
June 8th, 1968

No...

actually everything isn't a joke to me
everything is stupid and pointless because we give birth to things that die
(meat ain't murder
birth is murder)
and you can't take it with you
and it's all just spilt milk anyway

so i'd rather laugh than be known for owning a big ass car
or whatever


(hey. i didn't bring it up.)

Cat Rant Cat Rant Rant!

'only nut cases want to be president. this was true even in high school. only clearly disturbed people ran for class president.'

- kurt vonnegut
'a man without a country'


i don't believe it! the guy who once wrote some of the greatest novels in the world is now ranting! goddamn cat ranting! and he's kicking my ass at it! i gotta bow down to that action, gang!

Possible Bumper Stickers

1. i'd rather be laughing

2. honk if i'm in your way

3. my child is fine just the way he is

4. your guru has emotional problems or he wouldn't need to have people pay so much attention to him

5. if you can read this you really should be reading more

6. i voted for blofeld

7. burn your self help books and start helping

8. creativity + boredom = art

9. bumper stickers are pointless

Sun Lite

the sun is roughly 93 million miles from earth.

therefore, when you look to the sun it isn't there anymore. it's where it was about six minutes before you are seeing it. it takes about six minutes for sunlight to reach us. you are actually seeing just the light from the sun. a light that is six minutes old.

it amazes me that there are people who think that they have control over their lives. that if they try hard enough and believe hard enough that they can have anything that they want. that people that can't get the things that they want just don't really want it bad enough. that if everybody felt the same way that they do that the world would be a perfect place.

people that can't really see the sun.

but that think that they do.

Any Day Now

Hmmmmmmm... It says here, "May cause depression, lycanthropy, pon farr, and/or a sudden and unexplainable desire to vote Republican." I'll guess I'll go for the thin crust.

Burping

next time you burp
and you say
'pardon me.'
do yourself a favor and run with it for a while
like:

'no! really! pardon me! c'mon, ya prick! pardon me! pardon the fuck outta me! i double fucking dare you to pardon me, you low class nazi bastard! pardon me or i'll kick the living fuck outta your sorry ass! what's wrong with you? why don't you just give me a pardon, for christ's sake? pardon me awready! pardon me! pardon me or die! say it! Say It!! SAY IT!!!'

then smash a lamp against a wall and fall to the floor screaming as if insane

if you really commit to the moment
it would be very funny

i promise...

Love/Hate

i love everything
and
i hate everything
it's not like i want to
you fuckers drive me to it
and you never park
when you kick me out of the car
as it's still fucking moving
and my head hits the guard rail
like a watermellon
heaved by a quarterback

you are stupid as all fuck
but
you have these moments of pure soul loving logic purity

i'm on this razor edge

wanting to hug you

and

wanting to kill you

all at the same time

and

i can't really do either

i'm the host
of the weirdest fucking game show ever
america's funniest home assholes
(and bitches
let's be fair here)
or
something

and

it never gets canceled

you know

unless i'm totally wasted

Key Reist!

for the last fucking time
of course christ was married and had kids
ain't you assholes seen 'dogma'?

screw that 'code' shit

geezuz...

An Un-Christmas Carol

(spoken)
Twas the eighteenth of August, some elves did revolt
They were sick of hot chocolate, and building toy boats
They started with Ozzy then moved to LaVey
And summoned a demon, one without a name

Sliced open a chicken and drank of its blood
Danced around naked, smeared bodies with mud
Spoke the dark passage contained in a book
Bat wings and frog eyes they started to cook

The ground it cracked open, the demon arose
"Hi! How ya doin'?", a question he posed
"You all are my masters, what bidding say you?"
"Go possess Santa!", so that he did do...

(sung)
You'd better take off!
You'd better right now!
No time to pack bags!
They'll just slow you down!
Santa Claus has got summer off

He's checking his list
And packing a gun
He's got all the boys and girls on the run
Santa Claus has got summer off

He sees you when you're sleeping
He'll sneak into your dreams
'Don't care if you've been bad or good
'Cause your soul he's gonna steal

With a sharpened chainsaw
And long butcher knives
Peel off your skin and set it on fire
Santa Claus has got summer off

Wrong

you know the biggest bummer about dealing with people who have trouble with ever being wrong? you can never address the fact that they have trouble with ever being wrong. which is actually kind of strange. i mean, if you mention that they have trouble with ever being wrong wouldn't they tend to agree with you? you know, so that they'll look like they're right?

i think it was art linkletter who said it best when he said, "People are fucked."

wasn't that art linkletter?

i dunno for sure.

maybe i'm wrong...

The Meaning Of Life

i know what you want
i know what you need
i'm your uncle cat
i'm a pisces
i'm a genius
i'm a artist

you want to know the meaning of life
you want to know what it all means
you want true enlightenment

well

you want it
you got it

THERE IS NO SUCH THING

once you get that down you've got it all

can we move on now?

R

'know why, when you're walking down the street and money falls from the sky you never catch a shitload of it?

because it never happens.

'know why i was watching tv last month and saw an ad for a movie and noticed that the little box under the 'r' rating listed everything good about the movie and i was so amazed by how stupid we are as people that it kept me awake for two days?

because it did happen.

that's all i'm saying...

Old People

i have come to the conclusion that old people don't really have trouble hearing. what they have trouble doing is paying attention. if you say something they never try to understand you WHILE you are talking. they wait until you have finished and then say, 'What?', so you have to say the whole fucking thing over again. they never say, "What was that about the soap dish?" or, "How much do you need for the paper boy?". they never 'what?' you followed by the last few words that you say. they make you say the whole goddamn thing twice. more often than not while the tv is blasting some shit thing like court tv or fucking 'cops'.

and why do they watch those shit shows? because if they watched movies or old sitcoms they'd have to pay attention so it would make sense.

see how it all fits together?

so...

what are we suposta do about this?

'easy question to answer, gang.

the next time you have to talk to an old person say something totally stupid first. like, "The cod fish have stolen my wristwatch.". or, "Satan called and he wants your knee socks." or maybe, if you really feel bold, "I'm having an affair with the poodle next door and we're thinking of naming the first child after you."

then, when they say, "What?", you can talk about the thing that you wanted to talk about in the first place. and they'll listen just fine, exactly like they would if you had said the same thing twice.

see?

i told you the answer was easy.

not only will you not think about beating the living shit out of old people (at least not as often) you'll also have something to giggle about while you're alone in the bathroom. don't think of it as being cruel. think of it as performance art. and remember, a lack of art can kill.

fucking old people, man.

i bet if you stuck a gun in some old windbag's fucking face they'd hear you just fine and goddamn dandy.

Global Warning

i'm not fully convinced that the hot summer that we are having is because of global warming.

why?

because it's summer. it's supposed to be hot. some summers are big bitch hot ass summers and some of them aren't. last year we hardly had a summer at all. it was great. what does THAT prove? that global warming suddenly kicked in this year?

i'm not saying that it isn't happening. i'm just saying that i'm not sure that just because some movie came out and that it's also hot out that it means that the movie was flawless in it's scope.

i haven't seen the movie and don't want to because gore's wife once tried to kill rock and roll and he can kiss my ass for christmas (remember the p.m.r.c.? i bet most of you don't. i remember. i was here) but in the ads? when you see those icebergs falling apart? it doesn't mean that those icebergs are falling apart just because of global warming. icebergs have been falling apart for centuries, gang.

it's part of what they do.

besides
do you remember the killer bees?
the harmonic convergence?
y2k?

do you know what happened with those things?

that's right...

nothing

not a goddamn thing

The Elf Man

i can't ever die
not until
danny elfman wins an oscar for best original score
at least not til then
so
buckle up. mother fuckers
it's gonna be a long flight...

Doorways To Dumbness

how fucking stupid do you have to be to stand in a doorway while you're talking to somebody?

like
i have nothing better to do than say

'excuse me. i need to get through here.'

or

'coming through, please!'

or

'HEY, ASSHOLE! GET THE FUCKING FUCK OUT OF THE FUCKING DOORWAY!'

you'd think that at some point pavlov would kick in and that a candle flame would ignite in their tiny little minds and they would think

'stand in doorway bad. me move from way.'

but no!

these dipshits never learn to take an extra three steps
three little steps!
what the fuck?

you know what i think these fucktards need?

a bit of the old ultra violence
a tolchock to the bleeding gulliver
fucking negative reinforcement

next time
ball up your fist up real tight and popeye punch these assholes in the ear as hard as you can and when they're laying on the carpet in a fetal heap scream at them in a shrill voice

'SORRY! YOU WERE STANDING IN THE DOORWAY AND WHEN YOU STAND IN THE DOORWAY OTHER PEOPLE CAN'T GET PAST YOU! IN THIS CASE YOU WOULD, IN FACT MAKE A BETTER WINDOW THAN A FUCKING DOOR! WATCH THAT SHIT IN THE FUTURE, ASSHOLE!'

yeah
it'd be a bummer thing to do
at first
but
after about the eighteenth time
i bet those morons clear the fuck out of your way whenever they even think about you

psych 101?

make friends with it, gang

But...

of course
i couldn't really ever hurt anybody
sometimes
it's just kind of soothing
to think about that stuff

like
'if i whack that fuck in the back of the skull with that giant ass jug of mazola oil i could be next in line. i'd probably make it to the parking lot by november and everything.'

or
'she ate my last doughnut. guess i'll drop kick her ass off the fucking roof. fair is fair, you know? i mean, we ARE talking krispy-kreme here.'

or
'hmmmmmmmm... is it still against the law to park a car on some lunkhead's fat fucking neck or did that revenge thing get voted in last time? i was killing poodles for satan that day.'

see?

i feel better already...

Stone Cold Crazy

one of the worse things you can say to someone who's totally out of their fucking mind is, 'you know you're out of your fucking mind, right?'.

know why?

because the insane are always the last ones to know.

this can be applied to other areas as well...

Fun Things To Yell At Your Cat

'what? timmy fell down the well? up at big rock mountain?'

'grow a thumb, ya cave beast!'

'you and what army?'

'if i see him i'll be sure to let him know!'

'aw, banana oil!'

'yeah? how's about i drop kick your ass into next week?'

'no soup for you!'

'you want some of me? do ya? well, lets mambo, tough guy!'

'meow? meow THIS, ya cunt!'

Midgets

You know, if you're driving around and you spot a midget through the window it's almost impossible to tell how tall they are. Unless they're standing next to a mail box or something. You have got to have that point of reference or you're just fucked out of luck, man.

Read This

some people listen to n.p.r. everyday
and they believe whatever they hear
they hang out with people who do the same
and they all agree
and it feels good

some people watch network news everyday
and they believe whatever they hear
they hang out with people who do the same
and they all agree
and it feels good

but

if all you read are western novels
all you are going to know about are western novels
and when other people talk about vonnegut
you won't know what they are talking about

not having knowledge of something
doesn't make you more correct
in your assumptions
it only means that you should learn more...

Party Dream

i had a really strange dream
one of those hollywood party dreams
the kind that have famous people with names i can't spell
and that would take far too long for me to figure out how to type
the basic deal was this though:

BEAUTY IF FLEETING SO DON"T BE AN ASSHOLE ABOUT IT
IT'S ALSO NOT PROOF OF SANITY OR ANYTHING ELSE, SO THERE, MOTHERFUCKER!

just before i woke up
jill
the weather babe from the morning news
on channel 11
here in l.a.
who's party it was
asked me if i had ever got in a fist fight with someone
because i didn't believe that they were psychic

i said
not really
i'm a pisces so that doesn't happen very often

she smiled at this
and said that
wouldn't other people be aware that that was going to happen
and try to avoid it?

i started to laugh
and she said
no
not because they are psychic
but because of all the other fist fights that they get into
because they aren't

i love blondes
even when my mind makes them up

you know
disney said that
a dream is a wish that your heart makes
(at least someone that worked for disney did)
and that might sound like a nice thing to say
but
if i remember right
disney was a transvestite
who had his head frozen
so i'm thinking
'woah, uncle walt! we might be talking grain of salt over here!'

but enough about me...

Party

i can't really think of a perfect party that i ever attended

and i mean Perfect

one where the room was spinning in just the right way
and all the colors were just right
and the music was exactly what it should have been
and the moment froze in my head like an imax frame
sounds and smells included
one of those moments that you smile about when you're not listening to somebody
and they ask what you're thinking
and you say "nothing"

one of those parties

maybe that's what i'm really looking for

in some ways

maybe we all are

Action Packed!

i dunno about you

but

whenever i look into a mirror
i never see myself
not really
i tend to ask
"who's that 50 year old fat fuck that's looking at me?"

then seconds pass

and i think about drinking

yet again

life on earth?

it's fucking action packed, kids!

Pinko

i went to a party the other night and the host wondered if i'd like a pinko.

"a pinko?", i asked, "what's that?".

he answered, "it's a white russian with a dash of borscht.".

"dude,", i replied, "i might lean to the left but i don't lean THAT far to the left."

The Top Ten Reasons The Burffle Isn't A Korf

10) we stood on the grelm
9) there once was a driff on the keegle
8) two knoigles don't add up to a roalff
7) he stuppled a cloygle
6) a pluggle and a burufnez ain't no groff
5) what? me tuuurglee?
4) tuesday
3) nine
2) mom says burffley
1) kersploygoin!

Voting

there once was a prez and he got his dick sucked in the white house
and a whole buncha 'publicans got all pissed off
and closed the entire goverment down
like a bunch of fucking kids in a goddamn schoolyard

then

arnold wants to get elected and a bunch of 'crats get all pissed off
cuz he might have grabbed an ass back in 1970
and a buncha chicks get pissed cuz he called people "girly men"
like a bunch of fucking kids in a goddamn schoolyard

know what?

fucking blow me

i'm not going to play anymore

you all fucking suck and you can fucking kiss the fuck outta my fucking fat white ass

there...

i just fucking voted...


eat me...

Paws

i twitch for a fix of my favorite drug
a look that could cook me or maybe a hug
a lump in the throat like a bolt from above
even a dead dove needs love

time like a lime can sure screw up one's face
cats chase the rats as we join in the race
cards can cut hard when you joke with an ace
even the spacey need space

worlds spin
mouths grin
corks pop
hearts stop
gears move
souls groove
night calls
we fall
eyes wide
inside
i fret
you bet
moving through nothing and yet:

we know that to toe that thin line is insane
prancing and dancing with fog in the rain
grab straws with both paws and slide down the drain
even the strange must be tamed

Rappers

what's the deal with these scowling rappers? guys that look like they wanna punch you in the fucking face? i'm thinking marketing ploy aimed at 14 year old assholes who confuse being "tough" with being cool.

"yo, yo, yo, motherfucker. i'm just keeping it real, see what i'm saying? i'm from the motherfucking streets, see what i'm saying? i'm just telling shit like it is and shit, see what i'm saying? shit, bitch! where's my motherfucking lemo? i gots to get to sony so i can pick up my motherfucking check! if i piss off the white motherfucker who owns my motherfucking ass i'm not gonna get paid, see what i'm saying? i got to get my bling on or the punkass white motherfucking fans of mine will think i'm not all up in there and shit, beee-atch!"

one of the things i love about the beatles is that they were funny.

and they thought that love was cool too.

see what i'm saying?

How To Be Happy

1) get a file sharing program

2) download "alphabet lost and found" by they might be giants

3) drink as needed

4) listen over and over until you know the words

5) drink more (but only as needed)

6) lock the doors

7) crank the fucker up to 12 and scream along not giving a flying fuck what others think about it. (strip naked and dance if you'd like)

8) smile and kiss the sky

for more information consult your local muse

Supermarket 4

Have you ever been in a supermarket and you had to step around some bonehead who's standing there with a cell phone asking whoever is on the other end what type of milk he's supossed to buy?

Do you know why that happened?

Because the guy owns a cell phone and now he doesn't have to remember things like types of milk anymore. All he has to do is call and ask.

I think that technology might be a bad thing in the hands of average people.

Then again, I know how to write a grocery list.

The Eloi Blues

3, 5, 7, 9
The siren blow and they fall in line

My old lady is an Eloi
She gots that pure white skin
I say my old lady is an Eloi
Gots that pure white skin
When she smile I lose my senses
Don't know what time zone I'm in

Well, my baby is an Eloi
Just hang around all day
You know, my baby is an Eloi
She hang around all day
When she kiss me I go crazy
I don't know what to say

(middle eight)

Well, my woman is an Eloi
Looks like Yvette Mimieux
I say, my woman is an Eloi
Looks like Yvette Mimieux
You know, she's just meat for the Morlocks
I don't know what to do



(for H.G. Welles)

Supermarket 3

overheard at the supermarket:

"well... i'd rather not see a movie at all than watch it on vhs."

and my first thought was "does this guy vote?"

let's say... you know, i'm pretty artsy and i love movies so i'm gonna run with this one for a mo. let's say you go to somebody's house and there's a movie playing on the tv. a really good one. like "clockwork orange", or "some like it hot", or "godzilla vs. megalon", or something and you haven't seen it in a long time and you say, "ooh! i love this movie!". you sit down and start grooving on it and, in passing somebody says, "i can't wait to find this on dvd. it's got extra stuff and everything.".

what do you do?

get up and leave rather than suffer through the pain and sorrow of sitting through a vhs?

if you answer "yes" to this question you don't know scratch about cinema, you don't know anything about art, and you should go grab a cookie and a nap while the grown-ups are talking.

Zombi 2

a friend (heather michelle) posted a couple of caps in her journal from a movie called "zombi 2", where a zombie fights a shark!

yes!

that's right!

A ZOMBIE FIGHTS A FUCKIN' SHARK!!!

'know what?

you can take your "who wants to be a heroin freak and finger barf backstage at a fashion show?" and "america's next artless pop robot who's working for the man", and "lemme fuck a rich guy so my friends will be impressed with me because i don't really understand love" and shove them up your ass!

fuck reality tv!

i want fantasy tv!

i wanna see sharks vs. zombies!
i wanna see vampires bowling!
i wanna see werewolves driving monster trucks!

WAIT!!!

a zombie bites a shark and it turns into a zombie shark and it attacks a beach in the summer and it bites a bunch of hot chicks who hitch hike on monster trucks driven by werewolves who crash into a bowling alley full of vampires and the building explodes and everybody dies except for the hot blond zombie beach chick (played by kaley cuoco) who loses her clothes and walks around slowly under the fire sprinklers for twenty minutes while soft jazz saxophone music plays and i ruin yet another pair of tube socks (if you know what i mean).

THAT'S ENTERFUCKINGTAINMENT!!!

Kids

back when i was a kid i did all kinds of things that i wasn't supposed to do. shoplifted, joy rode in stolen cars, ditched school and got real drunk and danced around the living room naked while blasting alice cooper, dropped acid, played around with heroin, the list is almost endless. these days i don't do any of that stuff anymore. well...i still get real drunk and blast alice cooper but now i dance sitting on a couch fully clothed.

the point being: i did stupid things, learned that they were stupid, and then stopped. IT'S JUST MY OPINION HERE but i think doing wrong things are a part of life. my parents didn't have a thing to do with it. they were "oldtimers" and "didn't understand" myself or my friends or our modern life style. what did they know?

sure. there are things that you should watch out for but maybe not all the time.

i'm really pissed off at this pc world that we live in. this idea that if we get rid of all the "bad" things everything will be fine. kids raised like that are going to grow up to be assholes that can't stand waiting in line, litter because it's too far to walk to the trash can, and think that just because they are on a cell phone that everybody else should shut up. they're going to be so "special" that they suck at being actual.

i check out chicks on line, don't want to have anything to do with child porn, and have no desire to meet anyone that i've spent time with in real life. the net and the sidewalk are two different things.

how come there are no shows about guys like me?

because nobody would watch, the ratings would dip, and they would lose millions in advertising dollars.

that's why.

learn to laugh at the media.

it's laughing at you...

Drinks

can we stop with the high energy drinks now?
how about some calm the fuck down drinks?
i wouldn't mind having a couple of cases of that stuff on hand at all tines.

Bus

i sit on busses and i see, out the window
all kinds of people running this way and that
they often tell me, "hey! be one of us people!"
i'm not a people i'm a fat cartoon cat

i sit on couches and i see, on my tv
all kinds of people screaming this stuff and that
i often hear them screaming, "buy this, you people!"
i don't have credit so to me it's chit chat

who do you when
what you did way back then? and
why should you cry
when you maybe soon die? and
where do you look
if it's by hook or crook? and
try first then buy
cuz it might be a lie

i sit on benches and i see, passing by me
all kinds of people looking this way and that
i see them looking, they say, "wow! check out that thing!"
"it's bright and shiney and it beats what i have!"

who do you when
what you did way back then? and
why should you cry
when you maybe soon die? and
where do you look
if it's by hook or crook? and
try first then buy
cuz it might be a lie

who do you when
what you did way back then? and
why should you cry
when you maybe soon die? and
where do you look
if it's by hook or crook? and
try first then buy
cuz it might be a lie

Wallpaper

alright, let's mambo, kids...

you know, a lot of people are pretty good with photoshop. i know this is true because i'm not bad myself. i'm no god or anything. there's a lot of stuff that i don't know how to do but i pretty much rock at an upper medium level. i've got a book and all but i'm just too lazy to crack the thing open. well, maybe "too busy" is more like it. i've got this huge writer's block so i can't finish my novel, for example. i'm thinking i'll blow off the guilt of that and just write the screenplay first. naw, you're not gonna like it. it'll be a film instead of a movie. besides, nobody really likes "angora" anyway. don't worry. if i get the screenplay finished a lot of you will get an acrobat copy. just be ready to have it sit around on your hard drive for years.

i'm also busy trying to get the hang of cool edit so i can pull the radio show together. truth be told, i'm nine cuts into my first actual cd. i'm sitting around the house one day and it dawns on me, "fuck! i'm a record company! i outta do something about that!"

do you have a burner?

then check this shit out:

YOU'RE A RECORD COMPANY TOO!!!

get some programs, get off your ass, and make a fucking cd! can you make music? what are you waiting for? got a microphone? talk into it! read poetry, make answer machine messages, bitch about that fucking asshole and/or raving psycho bitch that really fucked the shit out of your life. did your parents sell crack so the CIA could afford guns and tanks for some weekend long war that nobody knows about? spill them beans! are you a nasty lil' girl who masturbates a lot? record your voice and send it to me! NOW!!! i'd love to hear all about it! throw in some pictures and some underwear and i'll make you a wallpaper or two.

and

speaking of wallpaper

(see how i did that? i got back on track with a lame (half) joke about underwear. yeah. i write. i can do stuff like that.)

why does every goddamn wallpaper in the world have text on it? i mean, i get some cool ass picture of marilyn monroe and it says "MARILYN MONROE" on it in giant fucking letters! no shit? is that her name? good thing you included that on the wallpaper or i'd have no idea who i'm looking at! thanks, mr. knowledge! what the fucking fuck? it's marilyn monroe for christ's sake! if you don't know what marilyn monroe looks like you shouldn't have her on your desktop!

you know what i love most about warhol's tomato soup cans? the fact that it says "A TOMATO SOUP CAN" across the top in giant fucking white letters. that's art!

ooh!

and "a clockwork orange"? it's one of the most perfect films ever made and you know the best part? it says "A FILM" in huge motherfucking block letters from the start to the end! right over the camera shots! that's why kubrick was a god, kids!

here's a big fucking clue for you guys: a lot of art is knowing when to stop. being able to say, "you know what? i'm not going to make my wallpaper like everybody else's wallpaper. i'm gonna stop with the photoshop before i look like a total fucking moron. i'm gonna get the image just right and then i'm gonna grab a snickers and a nap." that's what art is, breaking stupid rules and kicking ass.

you can apply this to your life too but you prob'ly wont.

Mystery Joke

i've been puzzled lately by a punchline that i keep thinking about.
it goes like this:

"...and then he raped your mother and beat a dolphin to death with a whiffle bat!"

i can't figure out how the joke that leads to that punchline goes but it really doesn't matter, i guess.

nobody would laugh at it anyway.

Positive Schmositive

what is positive?

whatever you believe in.

what is not?

whatever you don't.

i should give up the ramones, stephen king, and zombie movies because you don't have a total sense of art and/or humor?

blow me.

let's say i was going to get a movie made and i said to you, "here's five thousand dollars. i wannna make a cast of your head and blow the fucker up with fake blood and fake brains in it and we're gonna use a ramones tune when it happens."

would you do it?

if you would take a lesson.

if you wouldn't you are full of shit.

let's move on from there...

K.

i was thinking about k. the other day

(it happens on rare occasions)

she was great.

she wouldn't ask, "Do I look fat in this?", sucking me into some sort of mind game. she'd state, "I look so fat in this.", so i'd have to be all guy-like and play the mind game, "Are you kidding? You look amazing!"

her smile told me that i was doing well.

she once wrote me a note on the front of my t-shirt as we were talking and another time stole a hologram pin off of my jacket. both times without missing a beat. as if it were the most natural thing in the world. she'd grab my hand and drag me through the mall, showing me things in windows. i'd fake bitch about it and make jokes, loving the moment i was living in.

it WAS the most natural thing in the world.

i didn't have to act like i was in control. i just lived in the moment. i could react instead of ACT. her games were more real than my having to force my ideas of reality on things. they just... were.

she was the zen goddess of flirting.

i miss her a lot.

of course, she turned out to be crazy.

but

who the fuck isn't?

Everybody

everybody vomits
everybody shits
everybody sneezes
everybody farts
everybody lies
everybody makes mistakes

we're all just people. until we own up to our faults and calm the fuck down we will never be special. we will be a bunch of assholes who waste time talking about how special we are.

people who are so afraid of actually taking chances that we never do anything but agree, and, therefore never really learn anything.

fuck that noise...

Bite Me

you know those people?
the ones that can't really like something if you love it?
they say things like
well
that's something that you're into
like your fanship has somehow ruined it?
the same people that get really hurt
and then pissed off if you don't like something that they love?
like it's some personal attack or something?
like your love of the book 'blue movie' is pointless
and
if you were really cool
you'd be reading books written at a high school level
like 'illusions'
or something like that?
and
since their boyfriend
or sister
or best friend from college feels the same way
it's further proof that you're a loser?

like:
when i first got an on line journal i told everyone how great it is but nobody wanted one and now, since i think that my space sucks i'm a jerk?

screw those visionless robots...

Cockfighting

they busted up some cock fighting in town today.

what's the deal with that stuff?

am i the only person in the world that still loves a good tit fight?

Again With The Thinking

i keep thinking
that there's a perfect set of words
a collection of curves and straight lines
a set of magic pixels
and
if i wrote them
when she read them
all of her problems will be solved
well
maybe not solved
but pulled into focus
and simple to deal with

like turning the lights on
and
finding that the monster is only a coat over a chair

way do i bother?

because i'm an artist?
because i'm a moron?
because i'm trying to un-cause a car wreck?

if i could answer the questions that float through my skull i'd be a zillionaire

It's Still Just Typing

i think that i should point out
once again
that
what would text being flat and without tone there is a good chance
at any given time
that what you think you are reading into something written might be wrong
and that
when you are wrong it's your fault
and a learning experience

(much like this post)
(which wasn't written about you)
(i have much better things to do in life that waste time making you feel bad)
(you sick, paranoid, deluded, martyr, dip shit, childish, loser-fuck)

take it like a grown up and move on to whatever is happening next

high school is over
and this is real life

fuck you very much...

Going To L. In A Handbasket

i saw l. today
being the rough tough manly man that i am
i totally forgot how she never writes to me
even after she promised that she would
we made eye contact
and
i melted like a nestle's crunch bar in a long shoreman's arm pit

god

i'm such a fucking lame ass...

That Pointless Paris Hilton Piece

at what point exactly did it become obvious that she was a whore?
was it that cover story in 'big fucking whore monthly'?
that interview on the tonight show where she said to jay leno, 'well, in my spare time i'm a whore.'
maybe it was that time you gave her money for sex and said, 'thanks, you huge stinking whore!'?

know what i think?

i think you heard some dip shit hanging around the water cooler at work
or some skank at the lunch table
quoting some stupid joke
and that hundredth monkey thing kicked in
and then
whenever you were reminded of her
the first thing that kicked in
was the thought
'whore'
it's pavlov for the trendies
and i refuse to play

again
she might be a raving bitch and a full on idiot
i have no idea
i don't know her personally
but
does having a scumbag ex-boyfriend that sells a private tape make someone a whore?

calm the fuck down

it's only the media
and
the hundredth monkey
only has an average intelligence

Another Great Idea

you know what i think would be a great idea? having a guy on the news that asks questions. wouldn't that be amazing?

'and now, with the big questions, our own wally carlson. wally?'

'well, the president said this and the governor said that and congress said something else. the big question this week? who gives a shit? i mean, none of that chatter really has anything to do with you so whatever, am i right? back to you, steve.'

'thanks, wally. truer words were never spoken. now let's go to the sports desk.'


you may say i'm a dreamer but i'm not the...
hmmmmm...
maybe i am the only one.

All You Need Is An Empty Soul

i honestly feel that any company that would even consider using the song 'all you need is love' in their ad campaign should be blown up, rebuilt, and blown up again. and, when they got to hell the people who work for them should be kicked in the nuts over and over and over again for the rest of whatever. yeah. i know what you're thinking. what about the women? they should be assigned nuts and then have them kicked over and over and over again for the rest of whatever. oh! and their children should be forced to watch.

Supermarket 2

the folks who shop at my local supermarket amaze me. it's like picking up food at a mental hospital.

you're aware, of course that there are actually people that think that if they get mad at you it's because you're an asshole and that they shouldn't have to deal with that negativity. you shouldn't bring their reality down to that low a level. you should stop invading their space.

they also think that if you are mad at them it's because you are an asshole and that they shouldn't have to deal with that kind of negativity. you really shouldn't bring their reality down to that low a level. there's no need for finger pointing.

'know what i call these people?

that's right

assholes

and their parents?

assholes

isn't it strange how everything ties together?

Overheard At The Supermarket

"...i dunno, dude, i think it needs new tires and shit. OH! DUDE! so's i go to my bro's, dude, to check out the car and shit and he's watching 'twin peaks' again, right? that's like all he fucking does and shit, right? so like that sharon fenman babe, the one that he has that picture of on his fucking wall and shit? her dad shoved her fucking head into a fucking FIREPLACE and shit, dude! that show's fucking WEIRD and shit, dude! i was like all, 'DUDE! NO FUCKING WAY', and shit! SERIOUS, DUDE!"

Free Band Names (Sorry, Jello)

black band-aid
the snoochies
four toed foot
pen in the neck
gentlemen nail redheads
the pleasant tomorrows
the egg needers
ungentlemanly haymakers
stomp the poodle
yoda morgenstern
mondo con carne
the living nixons
wac's and wayne
the flying dead
funkmeisters of the new despondency
the wankers
flying eraseheads
the honkeys
dr. skinflint's purple tinted airport monkeys
the flaming hetros
the aristocrats
back 2 bach
pink water
bring me the head of lou jacoby
beatlemaniaphobia
mad about plaid
liquid lunch
the sneeches
greta garble
melted leopards
not perry como
father and sum
the nocturnals
the orgone donors
skip toomaloo
april may june and jewel eye
half cocked and fully crocked
wet nightmare
colombus was a fink
singed eyebrows
chunks of pulchritude
the skinks
knights of the lepus
loni anderson's cleavage
the stolling roans
cream of groucho
thyme and tied
the bruce lee spotters
murder is neeto
underwater tractor pull
friday the 54th

So Long Spring

Welp.

It's just about summer and you regular readers of my stuff know what that means. Yeah. I'm going to have to beat down those mole men in the backyard again. Man! Am I ever tired of that whole scene! It just never fucking ends!

You know, once I found out what a total sham voting is I should have just kept my mouth shut. Not me though, not fucking me. I was so filled with that ass-holy-ness that's better known as righteous indignation that I actually called the government to bitch about it. Have I ever told you that story? Maybe I haven't. I don't remember if I have. Come to think, maybe you're new here so I'll drag that old chestnut out for another spin. Forgive me if you've heard it already and feel free to skip ahead if you'd rather. It's not going to kill me if you do so, whatever. Know what I mean?

So I call the government. It's not very hard to do, anyone can. You just have to know what to Google to find the number, right? I'm pretty sure a lot of you can figure it out on your own. So I call and this voice asks me what I want and I start screaming about what a lame ass scam voting is and how I never will again because all politicians are jag offs and if I had to pay to vote I'd want my goddamn money back and fuck this and fuck that and fuck you too, sister. Really letting it rip. And she says can I hold on for a moment and she puts me on hold.

I fire up an ultra-light 100 and do another shot of spiced rum and I'm sitting there wondering when the guys with the high powered rifles with the silencers are going to show up and pick my ass off through the window. On the news it'd be reported as one of those drive bys or whatever and boo hoo hoo, time for my funeral and some shoulder shrugging and who'd give a wet fart anyway?

So she gets back on the line and says that she checked with her supervisor and that I have two choices. Either a plain white van is going to pull up and I'll be shot with a high powered rifle through the window or I can make a deal. So I go what kind of deal are we talking about here? You know, like, is there a lot of math involved or what?

She says that it's cool if I never vote again but if I tell other people what a crock of shit that whole school yard game is other people will stop voting and then they'll start thinking for themselves and stop watching hit TV shows and giving a good goddamn about 'Scrubs' and total wankers like Celine Dion and whoever wins 'American Idol' (no matter what a babe Kelly is or how hot Carrie looks in a real tight T-shirt) and then they'll stop buying big ass cars that they don't really need and they'll realize how fucking stupid caring about empty headed junk like this whole bling bullshit is and the economy will collapse and where the fuck am I gonna get my spiced rum from then, thank you very much. At this point I see her point and I say I'd like to deal, please. And if you'd like a cherry on top I could arrange that for you real easy-like. I'm nothing if I'm not polite in a crunch. It's the romantic in me.

Anyway, she says seeing as to how the government is going to spare my life I'll have to do a favor in return. I say it sounds fair to me which is exactly the wrong mother fucking thing to say for sure.

So I hang up and keep drinking and screaming along with old Alice Cooper songs and watching "The Brain That Wouldn't Die" for about the eighty first time and the next morning or maybe the evening after that I've forgotten the whole thing. Which is yet another mistake in an entire life that's chock full of huge ass mistakes, believe me, you.

About nine months later a guy in a dark suit with a clipboard shows up and has me sign in ink at the bottom. I'm a fucking moron so I sign. I was also pretty well hung-over because... well, I'm an American, and it's one of my rights since I was born here and all of that shit you see in the movies and in those old books about history. It might have even been a question on "Jeopardy" once or twice but I'm not gonna swear to it.

As it turns out the government knew about these mole men that were going to show up and my part of the deal was having them sent to my house and now I have to deal with them every summer for the rest of my life. Even if I move they'll just have them go there. So I'm stuck and it sucks and you can write the second verse yourself so, like I said before, it never fucking ends.

In fact I was going to wrap this up with a real cool story about how one night Drew Barrymore, Melissa Joan Hart, and Avril Levine gang sucked me while Jennifer Tilly made me eat her nipples and kept calling me daddy but I hear a scratching noise outside so I have to get a flashlight and a rake and go kick some mole man ass.

It never ends, man.

It just never fucking ends.

What I Believe

most of the world doesn't really hate us. we're the home of jazz, the blues, rock and roll, cinema, the telephone, television, thx sound, marilyn monroe, the marx brothers, jerry lewis, woody allen, francis ford coppola, bill hicks, george carlin, oingo boingo, the ramones, the donnas, and countless advances in medicine, electronics, and
technology. what they hate are ugly americans. those boneheads that think that we should be thanked for everything that ever happened in the world and who think that the american way of life is the ONLY WAY that all other countries should be run. you know, the kind of morons that believe whatever they see on the news because they're just too dumb to understand that it's just a TV show. the kind of folk who rush out and buy a plastic flag because everybody else does and then throws those same flags away when it's no longer in style to have them. the sort of jerks that really think that people die in wars so they can buy those cheap ass flags that are made in other countries and wave them in the face of guys and gals who don't agree with them, the feeling being that if they have an opinion it must be the only opinion that's important because any REAL american follows orders and never asks questions. you know, assholes.

all i know is this:

1) i used to have money and now i don't.

2) i can spell potato. being a devo fan i am one.

3) ketchup is NOT a vegetable and before reagan all of those crazy people that you see living in the streets were in hospitals.

4) we are at war with some guys that bush's daddy hated and those clowns who blew up those buildings are still free.

5) strangely, gas now costs a freaking fortune. just like it did in the eighties. i don't really know why and i don't really care.

6) you should all rush out and see, 'duck soup', 'wag the dog', 'network', 'starship troopers', 'the president's analyst', and 'josie and the pussycats'. you should see them over and over and over until you really understand them and tell people that won't see them to get bent. any truth you need is buried in pop culture. trust me. i'm a rogue sub-genius doctor/pope.

7) no president really does or says anything. they have advisors and writers and people they have to answer to who helped them get elected in the first place. anyone who thinks differently isn't really thinking.

8) this is my country too. i was born here, i'm fifty years old, and i can have any opinion i want. just like anyone else. if you don't agree with me you can stick it where the sun shines now and then. like if you sleep naked with the window open or bend to tie your shoes at a nudist camp or whatever.

9) if you'd like a much easier life send me rum and vodka. the only reason i took the time to write all of this junk out is because i'm not screaming along with old alice cooper tunes right now. i miss drinking and, like most people who feel gypped i blame those rat bastards in office. whoever the hell they are they never ask me anything...

Might Have Been A Model

she was pushing eighteen. not much of a problem there. i was in my mid twenties (going on about twelve) and she had a boyfriend anyway. besides, i take things kind of slow. i wouldn't want to hurt anybody, once bitten, better safe, apples falling from trees, pick one you like, okay? she was blonde, hips like a dessert cart, painfully pretty. wanted to be a model and might have done very well at that kind of gig. face like a really hot angel.

so... we're at this party and her boyfriend (a real nice guy, btw) leaves for a while. i'm feeling good, drinking a bit, nothing serious, just hanging out. we've known each other for three or four days and i'm playing at flirting with her and she's playing at being pissed off about it. we're both laughing and bothering other people with our fun-vibe. i go to the bathroom and, on the way out the host drags me back in.

he says:
you like her?

i say:
yeah. lots.

she told me not to tell you but she's leaving her boyfriend.

so?

she's thinking about you.

why would she tell you that?

so i'd tell you.

but she told you not to tell me.

what are you, man? a fucking moron?

(long pause)

oh...

at one point she's really acting shocked at my attitude, goes into the kitchen, comes back with a glass of warm water, and dunps it over my head. it wasn't beer. it wasn't cold. it was art. i would have married her right then and there.

her boyfriend comes back and they get a ride home. she and i act like we don't really give a shit that the other's leaving but the eye contact was promising.

a few hours later we get a call from the emergency ward. the car that they were in was in a crash.

i figured that everything was okay, or at least not all that bad or they would have told us over the phone so it's off to st. john's.

we sit there for about an hour and they call her sister into another room.

there was a scream. just like in the movies. just like nancy allen in 'blow out'. anybody that tells you that chicks don't really scream like they do in the movies is full of shit. you can trust me on this one.

so there's this scream like in the movies and then she yells, 'that's not my sister! she doesn't have a face!'

she was dead before the cops had shown up.

we all kind of floated home in a fog.

a couple of days later i got the story: the car had rolled over quite a few times. she was in the back seat on the passenger's side and her face was torn off when her head was smashed through her window. her boyfriend was crushed in the wreck. the driver lived. he was saved because he was pinned in the seat by the steering wheel.

she never became a model.

the strange thing is that i rarely think of her and when i do i can't remember her face.

then again

maybe that's not so strange after all...

Zooology

Look:

It's not pronounced "zoo-ology"
It's pronounced "zo-ology"

How do i know this?

Because it's not spelled "zooology"

You stupid fucks...

405 Days Later

FADE IN:

EXT. STREETS OF LOS ANGELES - DAY

"Cool Places" a song by the band Sparks begins.

We see a montage of empty streets, dead cars, vacant buildings, etc. Basic L.A. landmarks.

From a freeway overpass we see only a few vehicles and they’re not moving.

The Hollywood sign in need of cleaning.

Scraps of paper being blown along the Santa Monica pier.

A rather old set of corpses slumped at a bus stop.

Wilshire Boulevard, stretching all the way to the vanishing point with no one to be seen.

The empty parking lot of the Ralphs Market on Wilshire and Bundy.

Off in the distance we see a guy walking toward the store. He is wearing a black “Pinky and the Brain” baseball cap, a khaki hunter’s vest with lots of pockets over a black “Eraserhead” t-shirt, black pants, pink high top Converse basketball shoes with black laces, and headphones.

He is alone.

As he gets closer to the store he pulls a backpack off of his back and unzips it, taking out a gas mask. He takes off the headphones, puts on the gas mask, and then replaces the headphones. There are several shopping carts. He wheels one in through the shattered glass of the market’s doors.

CANNED FOOD ASILE

The shelves are almost empty.

He tosses cans of ravioli, tuna, and Spam into the cart.

Tosses in cans of mushrooms, carrots, corn, etc.

PRODUCE DEPT.

He passes fruits and vegetables that have rotted into nothingness months and months ago.

MEAT DEPT.

He passes rotted and decayed meat.

LIQUOR DEPT.

He loads a couple of half gallon bottles of Cap’t Morgan’s Spiced Rum into the cart.

BOTTLED WATER

He loads up the rest of the space in the cart with bottles of water.

EXT. AN ABANDONED CAR - DAY

A length of hose is inserted into the gas tank.

His mouth spits out some gas.

A five gallon gas can is being filled by the other end of the hose.

The rear window of the car is shattered by a crow bar.

He walks away from the car and up the street with the can of gas. Every car behind him still has a rear window. Every car he passes has the rear window shattered.

EXT. A BACKYARD - DAY

The gas can is filling a portable generator.

INT. HOUSE - NIGHT

He empties an envelope of punch flavored Kool-Aid into a jug of water and ads sugar, shaking the jug after replacing the cap.

We travel through the house in a single Steadycam shot.

There are cases of bottled water and canned goods in large stacks.

Cases of beer and malt liquor.

A large freezer that has the word "SMOKES" spray painted on it.

A huge professional stereo system with two turntables and giant speakers.

About three thousand vinyl records arranged in shelves.

The biggest goddamned plasma television everyone has ever seen takes up an entire wall.

He enters this room and moves to a shelf on which hundreds and hundreds of DVD’s are held. He takes one.

Sitting on a large comfy couch he presses "Play"

The Twentieth Century Fox fanfare plays followed by Rod Serling’s voice.

It’s "Phantom of the Paradise"

He smiles.

GUY
I love this movie!

He does a shot of rum, chasing it with the Kool-aid.

He lights up a cigarette as the song "Goodbye Eddie Goodbye" begins in the movie.


FADE TO BLACK