And leaning on the hallway wall
I watched you put your eyes on
I thought I felt my heart enlarge
You walked out and it shattered
Excuse me while I turn me off
Your airplane flies the friendly skies
Unaware that I am fading
It lands and you move somewhere else
With new sights through your window
Excuse me while I turn me off
(spoken)
"The traffic rolls by
slowing to a stop
and I'm reflected in chrome and glass
and I can't see my face
it was stolen by you
and when I call you the line is dead"
You're running with the roaring crowd
I'm quietly meowing
The dream falls and some parts are lost
I can't find the instructions
Excuse me while I turn me off...
(for Gary Numan)
April 30, 2006
April 22, 2006
Donald? Duck!
it's official. i am totally sick to death of that asshole donald trump. what the fuck? it's bad enough i have to see that dipshit in magazines and on talk shows, now i gotta see him in commercials? that rich white money mad comb-overed mother fucker can kiss my fucking ass. the voice on that cocksucker could peel fucking paint, for fuck's sake. look: if you buy products because you see that spawn of satan on your television you should be smacked in the side of the head with a goddamn paperweight. the donald? fuck the fucking donald.
April 20, 2006
My Eighth Day On Zoloft
i'm gonna try to spare you most of the details here
but
i feel this should be mentioned...
masturbating has been a real task lately. something that i've been very good at for a very long time (it was my major in high school) has become an olympic event or something. it takes a lot more time, a lot more work, and a lot more concentration. it'd be great if i had a partner
(you blonde chicks on my friends list know who you are.
*winks and flashes you a thumbs up*
how ya doin'?
call me!)
but
being alone it's a bummer.
sometimes i just give up.
and you know what?
i don't get angry about it.
it wouldn't bother me half as much if the pay off was equal to the work involved. i think when the orgasm finally hits it ought to make me pass right the fuck out and, when i wake up i should know the secret to cold fusion or how to fly by using just my arms. another language at least. but when i do get off (if i do) it's a let down.
i mean
it's good
(it's always good)
but
not as good as i think i deserve.
the last time it was such a monstro chore that i slapped myself on the back after.
sure
maybe i should have washed my hands first
but
i figured it was a rented tux so
you know
fuck it...
(from 'The Zoloft Notes')
but
i feel this should be mentioned...
masturbating has been a real task lately. something that i've been very good at for a very long time (it was my major in high school) has become an olympic event or something. it takes a lot more time, a lot more work, and a lot more concentration. it'd be great if i had a partner
(you blonde chicks on my friends list know who you are.
*winks and flashes you a thumbs up*
how ya doin'?
call me!)
but
being alone it's a bummer.
sometimes i just give up.
and you know what?
i don't get angry about it.
it wouldn't bother me half as much if the pay off was equal to the work involved. i think when the orgasm finally hits it ought to make me pass right the fuck out and, when i wake up i should know the secret to cold fusion or how to fly by using just my arms. another language at least. but when i do get off (if i do) it's a let down.
i mean
it's good
(it's always good)
but
not as good as i think i deserve.
the last time it was such a monstro chore that i slapped myself on the back after.
sure
maybe i should have washed my hands first
but
i figured it was a rented tux so
you know
fuck it...
(from 'The Zoloft Notes')
April 17, 2006
Total Babes
it must be a real bummer to be a total babe
you know
to look like
jennifer tilly
gina gershon
or
tara reid
or whatever
"i'm sorry but you aren't allowed in here."
"really? check out my cleavage."
"fuck! i'm sorry! what was i thinking? go right on in. help yourself to anything you want and, if you'd like to kill the president or anything i'll be sure to say that i never saw you. oh! um...do you need any money?"
god
us guys are dumb...
you know
to look like
jennifer tilly
gina gershon
or
tara reid
or whatever
"i'm sorry but you aren't allowed in here."
"really? check out my cleavage."
"fuck! i'm sorry! what was i thinking? go right on in. help yourself to anything you want and, if you'd like to kill the president or anything i'll be sure to say that i never saw you. oh! um...do you need any money?"
god
us guys are dumb...
April 15, 2006
People Who Should Be Shot
Oh, man!
Some people really piss me off.
Like, people who say 'man-aise' for example.
What the fuck is wrong with these assholes?
It's not 'man-aise', it's 'mayonnaise' for cryin' out loud!
It's a French word!
It's prob'ly pronounced 'may-oh-naise-eee' or 'may-oh-naz-ah' or some shit.
That's a big pain in the ass through, so here in America we say 'may-naise'.
People who say 'man-aise' ought to be killed to fucking death!
They should be fucking shot in the kneecaps!
Say you go into a deli and you don't want any of the white creamy stuff.
What do you say?
Do you say, "hold the 'man-oh'."?
No! You sure as fuck don't!
You say, "hold the 'may-oh'."
Why?
Because it's short for 'may-oh-naise'
That's why!
Suppose you don't want any of the yellow stuff.
What do you say then?
"Hold the 'man-stard'."?
No! You don't!
There's no such thing as 'man-stard'!
It's 'mus-tard' and 'may-naise' you dim bulb motherfuckers!
Get a grip and get out of my face or I'll kill you!
Fuck!
These assholes prob'ly drink Coors Light too!
I hate Coors Light!
Coors light?
Gimme a break!
What?
Like a regular Coors is too strong for these people?
"Gee? I like a can of Coors now and then but that aftertaste! Yow!?"
Silver bullet?
How'd you like a silver bullet in your fuckin' chest?
Ball Park franks too!
They plump when you cook 'em?
Big fucking deal!
The ads don't say a goddamn thing about how they taste, man!
All they say is that they plump when you cook 'em.
What does that mean, anyway?
Does that mean that some schmuck at the Ball Park factory beams more hot dog into your hot dog when you heat them up?
I don't fucking think so!
I think that the water in them makes them expand when they get hot!
That's what I fucking think!
And those low fat Oreo's?
Fuck you!
Don't even get me started with those low fat Oreo's!
If you can't handle a fucking regular Oreo now and then, it's time to end your fucking life!
You pussed out, post yuppie motherfuckers!
Fuck fucking you!
You wanna know what's wrong with this country?
Have a Ball Park frank with some 'man-aise' on it, wash it down with a Coors Light, pound a couple of low fat Oreo's, and give me a call.
I'll tell you what's wrong with this fuckin' country...
Some people really piss me off.
Like, people who say 'man-aise' for example.
What the fuck is wrong with these assholes?
It's not 'man-aise', it's 'mayonnaise' for cryin' out loud!
It's a French word!
It's prob'ly pronounced 'may-oh-naise-eee' or 'may-oh-naz-ah' or some shit.
That's a big pain in the ass through, so here in America we say 'may-naise'.
People who say 'man-aise' ought to be killed to fucking death!
They should be fucking shot in the kneecaps!
Say you go into a deli and you don't want any of the white creamy stuff.
What do you say?
Do you say, "hold the 'man-oh'."?
No! You sure as fuck don't!
You say, "hold the 'may-oh'."
Why?
Because it's short for 'may-oh-naise'
That's why!
Suppose you don't want any of the yellow stuff.
What do you say then?
"Hold the 'man-stard'."?
No! You don't!
There's no such thing as 'man-stard'!
It's 'mus-tard' and 'may-naise' you dim bulb motherfuckers!
Get a grip and get out of my face or I'll kill you!
Fuck!
These assholes prob'ly drink Coors Light too!
I hate Coors Light!
Coors light?
Gimme a break!
What?
Like a regular Coors is too strong for these people?
"Gee? I like a can of Coors now and then but that aftertaste! Yow!?"
Silver bullet?
How'd you like a silver bullet in your fuckin' chest?
Ball Park franks too!
They plump when you cook 'em?
Big fucking deal!
The ads don't say a goddamn thing about how they taste, man!
All they say is that they plump when you cook 'em.
What does that mean, anyway?
Does that mean that some schmuck at the Ball Park factory beams more hot dog into your hot dog when you heat them up?
I don't fucking think so!
I think that the water in them makes them expand when they get hot!
That's what I fucking think!
And those low fat Oreo's?
Fuck you!
Don't even get me started with those low fat Oreo's!
If you can't handle a fucking regular Oreo now and then, it's time to end your fucking life!
You pussed out, post yuppie motherfuckers!
Fuck fucking you!
You wanna know what's wrong with this country?
Have a Ball Park frank with some 'man-aise' on it, wash it down with a Coors Light, pound a couple of low fat Oreo's, and give me a call.
I'll tell you what's wrong with this fuckin' country...
Truth
Alright...
Lemme get this totally straight
If we all believe in something it'll come true, right?
All we have to do is believe in it hard enough? Just be positive?
Well...
I don't know if you've noticed
But...
The emperor has no clothes!
He's naked
And fat
And I have no desire to see his dick flopping around
Fuck positive
You can believe anything you want
But
As for me?
Gimme truth any day of the week
It sets me free
Lemme get this totally straight
If we all believe in something it'll come true, right?
All we have to do is believe in it hard enough? Just be positive?
Well...
I don't know if you've noticed
But...
The emperor has no clothes!
He's naked
And fat
And I have no desire to see his dick flopping around
Fuck positive
You can believe anything you want
But
As for me?
Gimme truth any day of the week
It sets me free
Fish
My dad was the kind of guy who would spend more than the cost of dinner on a fishing pole hoping that he could catch enough fish in his lifetime to make the cost...um...work out in his favor. He wasn’t a very spiritual guy, he was a moron who actually thought that "the system" could be beaten if he could just figure out "all the angles" and latch on to the "right one".
Back in the very late fifties he drug me to the Santa Monica pier on just such a fishing trip. I was about three or four years old at the time. I seriously doubt I was even into TV Guide at the time.
We sat on an edge of the pier and cast our lines into the wind. Somehow (and I don’t even remember this) I reeled in a fish that was roughly the size of a nice "sammich".
There was another kid about my age, bored to death as he hung out with a father who was about the same age as mine. Another asshole who was hell-bent on "beating the system" just like my father was. This poor kid didn’t catch a fish and his dad was more than a bit peeved at this. Fucking fathers, man. You got me on that one. His kid was a fucking KID for Christ’s sake.
This kid’s dad kind of laid into him. "Geezuz! Can’t you even catch a fucking fish?", that whole vibe, so I reached into my dad’s bucket and gave the poor little fucker the fish that I had caught. He and his dad were amazed and both got real happy real fast, the whole point of life (at least in that moment) being "FISH!!!!" and not at all connected to real life at all.
My dad smiled and "let things slide", saying something sage like, "Kids? What you gonna do?" and let the dad and the now happy kid stalk off into the night.
On the way home he threw the fucking book at me and called me a pussy. Many, many, many times.
This is how I deal with my friends. Both in real life and on line. I give away my fish.
It’s left up to you to figure out what I mean by this. I’m not a professor. I’m an asshole with a ton of fish and it’s up to you to pick out the bones.
Back in the very late fifties he drug me to the Santa Monica pier on just such a fishing trip. I was about three or four years old at the time. I seriously doubt I was even into TV Guide at the time.
We sat on an edge of the pier and cast our lines into the wind. Somehow (and I don’t even remember this) I reeled in a fish that was roughly the size of a nice "sammich".
There was another kid about my age, bored to death as he hung out with a father who was about the same age as mine. Another asshole who was hell-bent on "beating the system" just like my father was. This poor kid didn’t catch a fish and his dad was more than a bit peeved at this. Fucking fathers, man. You got me on that one. His kid was a fucking KID for Christ’s sake.
This kid’s dad kind of laid into him. "Geezuz! Can’t you even catch a fucking fish?", that whole vibe, so I reached into my dad’s bucket and gave the poor little fucker the fish that I had caught. He and his dad were amazed and both got real happy real fast, the whole point of life (at least in that moment) being "FISH!!!!" and not at all connected to real life at all.
My dad smiled and "let things slide", saying something sage like, "Kids? What you gonna do?" and let the dad and the now happy kid stalk off into the night.
On the way home he threw the fucking book at me and called me a pussy. Many, many, many times.
This is how I deal with my friends. Both in real life and on line. I give away my fish.
It’s left up to you to figure out what I mean by this. I’m not a professor. I’m an asshole with a ton of fish and it’s up to you to pick out the bones.
4-puff
i've just said something funny. a perfect face on a body built like both sizes of marshmallows in perfectly stacked puffs is smiling. then laughing. then speaking in flirty tones as fingers brush my shoulder. the marshmallows are soft and warm like fresh out of the bag and microwaved to an almost liquid state (but not exactly). virtual scoops of the stuff speaking in visual girly rhythms. fluffy and bouncing and next to dancing as it laughs. almost too painful for a simple human to look at. somehow more than alive and flowing with it's own inner heat as it moves warmly through both time and space at the same moment. on a trip across a timeline without either limits or a worry. then i watch and melt a bit myself as you pass me in this narrow doorway. sometimes my hands reach out to caress you. sometimes they don't. i'm never sure of the impending reaction. i'm willing to take a chance at least half the time however. it goes either way. you hold me close or squirm to freedom. both feel fine as i'm not all that forceful or determined. but my heart always reaches. sometimes when mearly aware that you are in the next room. or a town or two away. and when you laugh hard enough your head moves foreward and back in near jerky nods. your hair bounces as well. it dances on it's own to the music of your giggling. then your tongue wets your lips. and that is why i often bark at you like a dog in a bad cartoon.
Ed Would
I first saw a little movie called "Plan 9 From Outer Space" in high school. This was around 1971 or so and in those days high school meant exactly that, at least it did at my school. One night I smoked a nice sized joint and saw the movie at about three in the morning. I had no idea what it was (or who Ed Wood Jr. was, for that matter) but, as a young and hungry science fiction and horror fiend I thought I'd check it out based on the title alone. I couldn’t believe it. It was the sloppiest and downright lamest thing I'd ever seen.
I laughed my ass off.
Nobody really had a VCR back then so if you wanted to see a movie a bunch of times you’d have to wait for a rerun. It would replay every six months or so and I'd see it every chance I got, often making friends and people at parties sit through it as well. There was no two ways about it, you either loved it or hated it. Most hated it. That was their loss as far as I was concerned. I was hooked and the most amazing thing was that it got better with each viewing. It didn’t take very long for it to become one of my favorite movies.
These days it seems that almost everybody with a quirky taste in cinema loves it and it has reached the height of cultdom. Books, magazine articles, and a comic book all sing the praises of what has been called "The Worst Movie of All Time".
But is it really the worst? I don't think so. Have you ever seen "Gone with the Wind"? "Mrs. Doubtfire"? How about "Pretty Woman"? Those are some bad movies, pal.
I mean, look, at least "Plan 9" has a message: "Stop playing around with weapons or we'll come back and whack your whole damn planet!” Pretty heavy stuff. Sure. I know. Robert Wise said the same thing in the film "The Day the Earth Stood Still" and he said it better too.
But here's the thing:
The reason the aliens come to earth in "Plan 9" is to stop us from discovering Solaronite, particles of sunlight so small they can't be measured. If we create a Solaronite bomb it will blow up the sun and then follow the sunlight, blowing up everything it touches thereby blowing up the whole universe. Now, here's no such thing as Solaronite but there are neutrinos, teeny tiny particles of sunlight. If a neutrino bomb were created and set off would the sunlight explode setting off a chain reaction that would destroy the universe?
I'm no scientist but it sure seems that way to me.
And what about Ed Wood?
Did he "discover" neutrinos long before whoever is credited with the discovery only to pick a really stupid name for them and use them in what has been called "The Worst Movie of All Time?
As Criswell, the guy who narrates it says, "Can you prove it didn’t happen?”
I laughed my ass off.
Nobody really had a VCR back then so if you wanted to see a movie a bunch of times you’d have to wait for a rerun. It would replay every six months or so and I'd see it every chance I got, often making friends and people at parties sit through it as well. There was no two ways about it, you either loved it or hated it. Most hated it. That was their loss as far as I was concerned. I was hooked and the most amazing thing was that it got better with each viewing. It didn’t take very long for it to become one of my favorite movies.
These days it seems that almost everybody with a quirky taste in cinema loves it and it has reached the height of cultdom. Books, magazine articles, and a comic book all sing the praises of what has been called "The Worst Movie of All Time".
But is it really the worst? I don't think so. Have you ever seen "Gone with the Wind"? "Mrs. Doubtfire"? How about "Pretty Woman"? Those are some bad movies, pal.
I mean, look, at least "Plan 9" has a message: "Stop playing around with weapons or we'll come back and whack your whole damn planet!” Pretty heavy stuff. Sure. I know. Robert Wise said the same thing in the film "The Day the Earth Stood Still" and he said it better too.
But here's the thing:
The reason the aliens come to earth in "Plan 9" is to stop us from discovering Solaronite, particles of sunlight so small they can't be measured. If we create a Solaronite bomb it will blow up the sun and then follow the sunlight, blowing up everything it touches thereby blowing up the whole universe. Now, here's no such thing as Solaronite but there are neutrinos, teeny tiny particles of sunlight. If a neutrino bomb were created and set off would the sunlight explode setting off a chain reaction that would destroy the universe?
I'm no scientist but it sure seems that way to me.
And what about Ed Wood?
Did he "discover" neutrinos long before whoever is credited with the discovery only to pick a really stupid name for them and use them in what has been called "The Worst Movie of All Time?
As Criswell, the guy who narrates it says, "Can you prove it didn’t happen?”
April 13, 2006
Bring The Boys Down South
i've got a great idea
why don't we get the hell out of iraq
invade mexico
turn it into a state
clean it up
and tax the fuck out of those people?
there's got to be oil there somewhere
besides
if we had a war the soldiers could go home on the weekends
why am i the only one who thinks of this stuff?
why don't we get the hell out of iraq
invade mexico
turn it into a state
clean it up
and tax the fuck out of those people?
there's got to be oil there somewhere
besides
if we had a war the soldiers could go home on the weekends
why am i the only one who thinks of this stuff?
Flick This!
ever meet someone
and they seem really cool
getting along
and everything
and then you notice that their bic lighter still has the warning sticker on it
and you just want to smack them in the fucking head with an end table?
i mean
if you swung it up from the floor you could really get a lot of power on that downward arc
i hate that...
and they seem really cool
getting along
and everything
and then you notice that their bic lighter still has the warning sticker on it
and you just want to smack them in the fucking head with an end table?
i mean
if you swung it up from the floor you could really get a lot of power on that downward arc
i hate that...
Beach Blanket Life Lesson
it's summer in california
frankie and annette are together
right?
everything's great
and
then
this other chick shows up on the beach
she's new
she ROCKS!
everybody thinks so
even frankie
so frankie thinks
"whoo-ah! whatta babe!"
and
he strays from annette
he's got thighs in his eyes
(that whole darwinian thing going on)
so
he strays
annette finds out
it don't take long
and
she strays too
she starts to hang out with another guy
"i'll show that frankie, goddamnit!"
she's just being a chick
so
about 90 minutes later
they get back together
they learn that love is all that matters
that they were both wrong
that the most important thing is to be true
be honest and everything will be okay
love is the REAL THING
anything else is crap
don't be a dick
or a bitch
and
your world will work out fine
sure
it's just life on the beach
but
why waste it?
and that is really all you need to know...
frankie and annette are together
right?
everything's great
and
then
this other chick shows up on the beach
she's new
she ROCKS!
everybody thinks so
even frankie
so frankie thinks
"whoo-ah! whatta babe!"
and
he strays from annette
he's got thighs in his eyes
(that whole darwinian thing going on)
so
he strays
annette finds out
it don't take long
and
she strays too
she starts to hang out with another guy
"i'll show that frankie, goddamnit!"
she's just being a chick
so
about 90 minutes later
they get back together
they learn that love is all that matters
that they were both wrong
that the most important thing is to be true
be honest and everything will be okay
love is the REAL THING
anything else is crap
don't be a dick
or a bitch
and
your world will work out fine
sure
it's just life on the beach
but
why waste it?
and that is really all you need to know...
April 12, 2006
New Pair Of Shoes (a song from the 1920's)
I'm gonna up and pick and choose
Go to a store and ditch the barefoot blues
Drop some money, gonna pay my dues
And buy me a new pair of shoes
I saw an ad in the morning news
Believe me, buddy, I ain't no fool
So I caught a bus, had no time to lose
Now I got a new pair of shoes
They've got black laces and they match my pants
It says on the box that they were made in France
Gonna take my honey to the springtime dance
This ain't no time to snooze
Then it's up the aisle between the pews
We're both gonna say our yes I do's
A wife, a house, and a baby too
'cause I gotta new pair of shoes
Dude
I gotta new pair of shoes
Go to a store and ditch the barefoot blues
Drop some money, gonna pay my dues
And buy me a new pair of shoes
I saw an ad in the morning news
Believe me, buddy, I ain't no fool
So I caught a bus, had no time to lose
Now I got a new pair of shoes
They've got black laces and they match my pants
It says on the box that they were made in France
Gonna take my honey to the springtime dance
This ain't no time to snooze
Then it's up the aisle between the pews
We're both gonna say our yes I do's
A wife, a house, and a baby too
'cause I gotta new pair of shoes
Dude
I gotta new pair of shoes
Game Shows You Will Never See
You Bet Your Ass!
The Check Bouncers
Ooh! My Back!
Twenty Thousand Dollar Pink Belly
Let's Make A Sandwich
Wheel of Blisters
Make Me Puke
Celebrity Bar Room Brawl
Tic Tack Bleed
Bowling For Blowjobs
Squish That Zit!
Fishing With Pistols
I've Got a Chainsaw
Name That Wound
Are Those Real?
Win, Lose, or Die
Who Threw That Brick?
Underwater Checkers
Shoot the Stars!
Drinking and Driving for Dollars
Beat Your Mom
The Price is Fucked
The Check Bouncers
Ooh! My Back!
Twenty Thousand Dollar Pink Belly
Let's Make A Sandwich
Wheel of Blisters
Make Me Puke
Celebrity Bar Room Brawl
Tic Tack Bleed
Bowling For Blowjobs
Squish That Zit!
Fishing With Pistols
I've Got a Chainsaw
Name That Wound
Are Those Real?
Win, Lose, or Die
Who Threw That Brick?
Underwater Checkers
Shoot the Stars!
Drinking and Driving for Dollars
Beat Your Mom
The Price is Fucked
Some Lame Ass Back Story
About a bazillion years ago the Earth cooled. This was a good thing. If it hadn’t we’d all be jumping up and down a lot and screaming about our feet more often than we do now. The air would also hurt our lungs and there wouldn’t be any clean water.
Can you imagine living in a world like that? I just barely can and I have a rather colorful history of drug usage.
There were these pools of water laying around back then and, through some electro-chemical process that I don’t have a lot of knowledge about these tiny fishy things came to life. Chemistry tends to vex me on a daily basis. If you take some motor oil and lemonade and toss in some cotton balls you get retsin? How does that work? I mean, there can only be a finite number of chemicals, right? How the hell do those research guys come up with new ones? I had a chemistry set once and if I mixed up a bunch of stuff all I ever ended up with was a tube of blackish slop. I just don’t understand it in the slightest.
This may tend to explain why I write. I may be trying to understand things.
Ah, well...
Whatever...
Some weeks later dinosaurs stalked both the surface of the Earth and each other. These were dangerous times for the more fragile life forms who were mainly walking snacks and sandwiches for these dinosaurs. The whole world was a giant Burger King and you didn’t have to deal with money.
One day a chunk of what was basically iridium zipped through space, got caught in the Earth’s orbit, and smacked into the ground with a resounding boom. The impact of this smack and boom caused a huge cloud of dust to blanket the sky, blocking out the rays of the sun and making things rather chilly for the dinosaurs and snacks that lived here. The plants died, the plant eaters died, and the meat eaters followed suit rather quickly.
Things were looking bad.
However, some of those snacks had fur coats and they hid out in little caves and hollows and rode this badness out. They kept warm, ate when they could, and had a lot of little furry snack sex.
Such is life.
These little furry things evolved and after spending a couple of years in the trees they lost their tails and walked tall on the ground. Cave people had arrived.
Now…
I don’t know about you but I would have made a lousy caveman. Most of my leisure time would have been spent crawling around nearsighted looking for something to read. I doubt my tribe would have been into my sense of humor either. Some burly cavedude would have crushed my head with a rock just to shut my ass up. “Yeah. He was an asshole and now we don’t have to hear his fucking whiney voice! What’s for lunch?”
I’m not real hot with history but, if I remember right those guys and gals didn’t even have Dr. Pepper! Barbaric? Don’t get me started! Have you ever seen a TV Guide from back then? They weigh in at about seven thousand pounds. You had to do the crossword puzzle with a hammer a chisel. And if you made a mistake you were just fucked and that was all there was to it, man.
But enough about me...
Somehow the more aggressive caveman tribes grew up in what is now known as Europe. These were serious hunter/gatherers who just had to have more. And more. And still more after that. They built ships and crossed oceans and got to work setting up what is now known as The East Coast. Not content with that they pulled this thing called “Manifest Destiny” out of a hat and moved west, hacking their way through viscous plant life and a few million Indians. Once they got to The Pacific Ocean they chugged Margaritas, beat the living shit out of a bunch of Mexicans, and said, “Wow! If we had some well built blonde women here we could make television and movies! Let’s do it!”
So they did.
This sort of wanderlust still pretty much exists even to this day. Tons of people who really have no business being here move to Los Angeles every month. They seek fame and fortune in what is sometimes called “Show Business” (although other times it’s referred to by it’s more rightful name: “A Motherfucking Pain In The Ass”). These people don’t kill each other or anything (not too much anyway) but they do play their stupid little schoolyard games with each other and make life a big old bummer for those of us who were born here and really just want to tell stories and get paid for it.
Oops!
My bitterness is showing!
Sorry about that!
Anyway...
Some people moved here from other places to try to carve a life for themselves and set about finding meaning in the face of their assorted neurosis.
We all want love and good things right?
And there’s really nothing wrong with that at all.
You know.
Unless you're a total asshole or something.
Can you imagine living in a world like that? I just barely can and I have a rather colorful history of drug usage.
There were these pools of water laying around back then and, through some electro-chemical process that I don’t have a lot of knowledge about these tiny fishy things came to life. Chemistry tends to vex me on a daily basis. If you take some motor oil and lemonade and toss in some cotton balls you get retsin? How does that work? I mean, there can only be a finite number of chemicals, right? How the hell do those research guys come up with new ones? I had a chemistry set once and if I mixed up a bunch of stuff all I ever ended up with was a tube of blackish slop. I just don’t understand it in the slightest.
This may tend to explain why I write. I may be trying to understand things.
Ah, well...
Whatever...
Some weeks later dinosaurs stalked both the surface of the Earth and each other. These were dangerous times for the more fragile life forms who were mainly walking snacks and sandwiches for these dinosaurs. The whole world was a giant Burger King and you didn’t have to deal with money.
One day a chunk of what was basically iridium zipped through space, got caught in the Earth’s orbit, and smacked into the ground with a resounding boom. The impact of this smack and boom caused a huge cloud of dust to blanket the sky, blocking out the rays of the sun and making things rather chilly for the dinosaurs and snacks that lived here. The plants died, the plant eaters died, and the meat eaters followed suit rather quickly.
Things were looking bad.
However, some of those snacks had fur coats and they hid out in little caves and hollows and rode this badness out. They kept warm, ate when they could, and had a lot of little furry snack sex.
Such is life.
These little furry things evolved and after spending a couple of years in the trees they lost their tails and walked tall on the ground. Cave people had arrived.
Now…
I don’t know about you but I would have made a lousy caveman. Most of my leisure time would have been spent crawling around nearsighted looking for something to read. I doubt my tribe would have been into my sense of humor either. Some burly cavedude would have crushed my head with a rock just to shut my ass up. “Yeah. He was an asshole and now we don’t have to hear his fucking whiney voice! What’s for lunch?”
I’m not real hot with history but, if I remember right those guys and gals didn’t even have Dr. Pepper! Barbaric? Don’t get me started! Have you ever seen a TV Guide from back then? They weigh in at about seven thousand pounds. You had to do the crossword puzzle with a hammer a chisel. And if you made a mistake you were just fucked and that was all there was to it, man.
But enough about me...
Somehow the more aggressive caveman tribes grew up in what is now known as Europe. These were serious hunter/gatherers who just had to have more. And more. And still more after that. They built ships and crossed oceans and got to work setting up what is now known as The East Coast. Not content with that they pulled this thing called “Manifest Destiny” out of a hat and moved west, hacking their way through viscous plant life and a few million Indians. Once they got to The Pacific Ocean they chugged Margaritas, beat the living shit out of a bunch of Mexicans, and said, “Wow! If we had some well built blonde women here we could make television and movies! Let’s do it!”
So they did.
This sort of wanderlust still pretty much exists even to this day. Tons of people who really have no business being here move to Los Angeles every month. They seek fame and fortune in what is sometimes called “Show Business” (although other times it’s referred to by it’s more rightful name: “A Motherfucking Pain In The Ass”). These people don’t kill each other or anything (not too much anyway) but they do play their stupid little schoolyard games with each other and make life a big old bummer for those of us who were born here and really just want to tell stories and get paid for it.
Oops!
My bitterness is showing!
Sorry about that!
Anyway...
Some people moved here from other places to try to carve a life for themselves and set about finding meaning in the face of their assorted neurosis.
We all want love and good things right?
And there’s really nothing wrong with that at all.
You know.
Unless you're a total asshole or something.
Bee-Bop (an old episode of 'The Outer Limits')
I took shape
And moved into your world
I was curious about humans
And about love
I tried to break up your homelife
With newly discovered charm
Because I needed offspring
Your wife caught me feeding
Transforming back into myself
It frightened her
Deep and black
It must have been illusion
But when she found me
Talking with my drones
I had no choice
But to release them
To do my bidding
To bring her death
And at last we were alone
Just you and I
I made my move
In a long white dress
I thought you'd like me that way
But you turned me away
With a declaration of devotion
For your wife
And all that it stood for
And so I fell away from you
Off the balcony and back into myself
You'll never see me again
But I have learned about love
It stings…
(for Joanna Frank)
And moved into your world
I was curious about humans
And about love
I tried to break up your homelife
With newly discovered charm
Because I needed offspring
Your wife caught me feeding
Transforming back into myself
It frightened her
Deep and black
It must have been illusion
But when she found me
Talking with my drones
I had no choice
But to release them
To do my bidding
To bring her death
And at last we were alone
Just you and I
I made my move
In a long white dress
I thought you'd like me that way
But you turned me away
With a declaration of devotion
For your wife
And all that it stood for
And so I fell away from you
Off the balcony and back into myself
You'll never see me again
But I have learned about love
It stings…
(for Joanna Frank)
Seeing Orange
It’s been going on for years, man.
The age old question.
Is the glass half-empty?
Or is the glass half full?
We all want to know the answer, we all want to know.
We all have opinions but we can’t be sure.
Me?
What do I think?
I think the glass is half-empty.
I also think that if you look around you just might find a faucet. And there may be some ice in the freezer. Look in the refrigerator. Is that a bottle of 7-up? And over there, on the shelf, I think I see a bottle of bourbon! Wow! There’s a bag of Doritos on the table and somebody has left out a bowl of salsa!
Too cool!
I love this place!
Where’s the stereo?
Yep!
That’s what I think.
That’s me.
I’ve got a jaundiced eye and I’m looking through rose colored glasses.
I’m seeing everything in orange.
The age old question.
Is the glass half-empty?
Or is the glass half full?
We all want to know the answer, we all want to know.
We all have opinions but we can’t be sure.
Me?
What do I think?
I think the glass is half-empty.
I also think that if you look around you just might find a faucet. And there may be some ice in the freezer. Look in the refrigerator. Is that a bottle of 7-up? And over there, on the shelf, I think I see a bottle of bourbon! Wow! There’s a bag of Doritos on the table and somebody has left out a bowl of salsa!
Too cool!
I love this place!
Where’s the stereo?
Yep!
That’s what I think.
That’s me.
I’ve got a jaundiced eye and I’m looking through rose colored glasses.
I’m seeing everything in orange.
Scene From An Unwritten Movie
FADE IN:
INT. SUPERMARKET - DAY
DAVE, a rather normal looking guy in his mid twenties, is standing in a aisle trying to decide between two boxes of doughnuts. He talks to himself.
DAVE
Hmmm...these are plain and plain is good. I like plain. Doesn’t get in the way if you have ‘em with chocolate milk. These however are chocolate and chocolate doughnuts are always perfect with regular milk... I’m vexed yet again.
PETE, another rather normal looking guy in his mid twenties, drops a couple of bags into the shopping cart. He and Dave are roommates and close friends.
DAVE
Chips?
PETE
Nothing but. I went for nacho. You cool with that?
DAVE
I can find no fault with my favorite style of crunchy thing. These doughnuts are giving me a headache though.
DAVE
Plain or chocolate? Again?
PETE
The age old question.
DAVE
You have got to get a girlfriend, my man. I’m being serious now.
Dave picks up a box of doughnuts and shows it to Pete as if trying to teach him something very important.
DAVE
Pete? These have sprinkles. Don’t you like sprinkles?
PETE
I love sprinkles.
DAVE
Sprinkles rule.
PETE
It is a known fact that sprinkles are one of the basic cornerstones of capitalism. In some cultures they are considered a way of life.
DAVE
I’ve read that. Sprinkles also fit in perfectly with any beverage you could possibly mention.
PETE
Except for gravy, Dave. Be honest.
DAVE
I’ll need to do some more research on that but for now I’ll take your word for it.
PETE
Thank you. My thanks surround you and follow you whenever and wherever you happen to travel in this crazy world. This is my pledge to you. Don’t take it lightly or I’ll be crushed.
You guys are nuts, you know? It’s never going to work. Not in a million years. Do you hear me? Not in a million years.
A long pause.
DAVE
So... We’re going to go for the sprinkles then?
Pete drops the sprinkled doughnuts into the cart.
PETE
Fuckin’ a.
(for Kevin Smith)
E-Life
i feel connected
is a small
yet moving way
like threads
(or whatever)
little tugs
flashes of light
notated moments
written thoughts
captured images
spanning miles
flying through phone lines
splashing on screens
electric life
and all of that
it's not so easy to explain
and i'm not bad with words
i've heard it said that being on line is false
that it has nothing to do with real life
that you don't have to deal with other people
and that it's stupid and empty
it's like having someone who only listens to mozart
telling you that the beatles suck
having a thought is one thing
backing it up with knowledge is another
then again
i'm just stating feelings here
thare's a pretty good chance i have no idea of what i'm talking about at all
so
clocks tick
and the world spins
and i'll post something different tomorrow
is a small
yet moving way
like threads
(or whatever)
little tugs
flashes of light
notated moments
written thoughts
captured images
spanning miles
flying through phone lines
splashing on screens
electric life
and all of that
it's not so easy to explain
and i'm not bad with words
i've heard it said that being on line is false
that it has nothing to do with real life
that you don't have to deal with other people
and that it's stupid and empty
it's like having someone who only listens to mozart
telling you that the beatles suck
having a thought is one thing
backing it up with knowledge is another
then again
i'm just stating feelings here
thare's a pretty good chance i have no idea of what i'm talking about at all
so
clocks tick
and the world spins
and i'll post something different tomorrow
toong! Boof!! SPLAT!!!
I knew this guy named Newmar, right? He worked in construction, heat sealing plasti-beams for the MondoCorp building downtown. He was an average guy. Kept to himself. Never caused any problems or nothing. What you might call a square egg.
So...one day he's up on, um...I dunno, like the two hundred and thirty fourth floor or whatever and he stops for lunch. Opens his lunch pail and starts munching on an egg salad sandwich with bacon bits. Real bacon bits, mind you. None of that fake stuff for this guy.
And he's gulping down his chow with his feet dangling over the edge of the building and this swinging crane pops him in the head with a beam. Right in the fucking head. He's not looking behind himself and he gets whacked it the head. And his helmet goes TOONG! That was the sound it made when the beam hit him. TOONG! Like a tuning fork or something, right?
And BOOF! He goes flying over the edge of the building! And he's falling and screaming and suddenly he can't see anything. His eyes go black and then his whole life goes reeling by. He sees himself being born, and growing up, and going to school, and all these old girlfriends, and houses that he lived in and such. All the way up to being smacked in the fucking skull and falling off of the building.
Then...and this is the weird part, he sees a baby being born. A little girl. And she grows up, and goes to school, and has some boyfriends, and some houses and jobs, and she dies in a plane crash.
And Newmar says, "What the fuck was that?"
And then this voice enters his head. Deep in tone and rather soothing. It comes from inside and outside of him all at the same time.
It says, "Scenes from next time."
SPLAT! He hit the pavement at about nine zillion miles an hour and was buried in a sponge.
The end.
So...one day he's up on, um...I dunno, like the two hundred and thirty fourth floor or whatever and he stops for lunch. Opens his lunch pail and starts munching on an egg salad sandwich with bacon bits. Real bacon bits, mind you. None of that fake stuff for this guy.
And he's gulping down his chow with his feet dangling over the edge of the building and this swinging crane pops him in the head with a beam. Right in the fucking head. He's not looking behind himself and he gets whacked it the head. And his helmet goes TOONG! That was the sound it made when the beam hit him. TOONG! Like a tuning fork or something, right?
And BOOF! He goes flying over the edge of the building! And he's falling and screaming and suddenly he can't see anything. His eyes go black and then his whole life goes reeling by. He sees himself being born, and growing up, and going to school, and all these old girlfriends, and houses that he lived in and such. All the way up to being smacked in the fucking skull and falling off of the building.
Then...and this is the weird part, he sees a baby being born. A little girl. And she grows up, and goes to school, and has some boyfriends, and some houses and jobs, and she dies in a plane crash.
And Newmar says, "What the fuck was that?"
And then this voice enters his head. Deep in tone and rather soothing. It comes from inside and outside of him all at the same time.
It says, "Scenes from next time."
SPLAT! He hit the pavement at about nine zillion miles an hour and was buried in a sponge.
The end.
The Extra U
i love british stuff. the pythons, the beatles, and screaming, "fucking hell!" in times of stress being just three examples of this (yeah. i know. veronica zemenova looks british but she's actually from russia or something so i chose to leave her out). i'm a bit of a freak over that british stuff. it amazes me that there's this whole other country on the other side of the world (or thereabouts, i live in los angeles and don't know a map from the front of my hand) that pretty much speaks the same language that we in the states do. like, if you were stranded in england and really had to use a bathroom you could ask pretty much anyone in the street where one was and they could tell you what you needed to know. you wouldn't have to point or do some lame ass charade-type dance or whatever. you could ask a simple question and get a simple answer and yet, it's an entire different country! how cool is that?
of course, in england they have different slang terms for things but the basics are pretty much the same. "geezuz! i really gotta take a leak!" wouldn't be all that hard for a native to understand.
they spell some things in ways other than our own as well. like "color" is spelled with an extra "u". it's spelled "colour" over there. lots of words have an extra "u". "neighbour" and "mould" are the only ones i can come up with off the top of my head.
given that our forefathers and mothers came from there (some of mine must have anyway. my last name is "armstrong" and i have been known to get a major league sunburn by sitting too close to a 25 watt light bulb) it seems as if we should be spelling things the same way that they do. well..to be honest we do spell things the same way that they do except for that extra "u" thing or, in our case a left out "u". i'm not going to mention the way that they spell "tire" as trying to remember it has given me enough of a headache already.
i guess at some point, maybe after the revolutionary war someone said, "alright! this stinking war's over! we beat those bastards bad and, just for good measure let's drop the letter "u" out of a whole bunch of words! that'll show 'em!".
everybody else said, "you betcher ass!", or whatever it was that people said back then and now we spell the word "colour" wrong.
really makes you think, don't it?
then again, i just smoked the scrapings out of my favorite pipe and there's a pretty good chance that i have no idea of what the hell i'm talking about.
of course, in england they have different slang terms for things but the basics are pretty much the same. "geezuz! i really gotta take a leak!" wouldn't be all that hard for a native to understand.
they spell some things in ways other than our own as well. like "color" is spelled with an extra "u". it's spelled "colour" over there. lots of words have an extra "u". "neighbour" and "mould" are the only ones i can come up with off the top of my head.
given that our forefathers and mothers came from there (some of mine must have anyway. my last name is "armstrong" and i have been known to get a major league sunburn by sitting too close to a 25 watt light bulb) it seems as if we should be spelling things the same way that they do. well..to be honest we do spell things the same way that they do except for that extra "u" thing or, in our case a left out "u". i'm not going to mention the way that they spell "tire" as trying to remember it has given me enough of a headache already.
i guess at some point, maybe after the revolutionary war someone said, "alright! this stinking war's over! we beat those bastards bad and, just for good measure let's drop the letter "u" out of a whole bunch of words! that'll show 'em!".
everybody else said, "you betcher ass!", or whatever it was that people said back then and now we spell the word "colour" wrong.
really makes you think, don't it?
then again, i just smoked the scrapings out of my favorite pipe and there's a pretty good chance that i have no idea of what the hell i'm talking about.
How I Spent My Summer Vacation
I had just closed the front door. Was standing in the foyer of the big house when there was a huge, ham fisted pounding on the great slab of oak. I thought this was a bit strange. Didn't see anyone behind me as I made my way up the driveway, right?
Now, you have to consider the condition of my brain at this point. I had gotten a ride to the party in Stan Lee's limo, Stan was hitting the Jack rather fiercely that night and, seeing as to how he hadn't been invited to said party felt a need to challenge me to some guzzling. "C'mon, you true unbeliever! Suck some back!" I tried to be polite. Told him I'd be having my fill soon enough but when he started calling me a pussy I figured the gauntlet had been thrown and chugged about a third of the bottle with my right hand while flipping his ass off defiantly with my left. "Pussy THAT, old-timer!", I snarled and handed the bottle back. It was about that time that he laid out some Godzilla sized lines of what he liked to call "South American Jumping Powder". Suffice to say that on the way up the drive the drops of water glittering on the oh so green of the lawn struck me as solid and complete proof of God's existence. "How could anything that beautiful come into our reality without some kind of divine handiwork involved?" You know, that whole drinky/druggy vibe.
So I opened the door and Robert Conrad is standing there with a huge tank of nitrous (the kind with wheels and a handle attached for easy transportation) and a case of Night Train. I guess he was slumming it that night. "Hey, asshole! Where's the fucking party at?", he screamed, and by the smell of near cheese on his breath I could tell he had been into the 'train for quite some time.
He shoved a bottle in my face and said, "Drink this, nancy boy or I'll strangle you with a live dachshund." Laugh? I nearly crapped. The guy did have his moments, humor-wise, I have to give him that.
I'm standing there, putting away the Night Train when he bellows, "Where the fuck do I put my coat?". He opens a door and Paul Lynde sticks his head out of the crack, sees the confusion on Conrad's face, and says, in a Chardonnay fueled impression of himself, "Sorry, Bob. I'm not out of the closet yet!"
Conrad: "Suck my dick!"
Lynde: "Take a number, cowboy!"
That did it. I totally lost it at that point. Was laughing so hard I started to lose my balance, right? So I stick my left hand out and grab the first thing I feel to steady myself. Wrong move on my part. I found myself hanging onto Margaret Dumont's left breast! She says, in that shocked, upper crust kind of way that is all hers, "Well! I never!"
Pat Sajak is walking by at that point, helping Dianne Arbus to the bathroom. You know how she gets after seven or eight Bloody Marys, just a full on pain in the ass. Pat says to Miss. Dumont, "Oh, yeah? What about that night with the donkey at that boat show in Sheboygan?"
Dumont blushes and, just as she's about to answer him Dianne Arbus says, "Aw, shut up, bitch! I've got pictures to prove it." That Dianne Arbus being ever at the ready with a cutting rejoinder, to be sure.
I'm on the floor at this point, laughing as if insane. Dumont shoves her hand into a nearby salsa bowl and crams a fist full into my open mouth. I'm so wasted I don't even feel it. Either that or it was one of those wimpy mild brands of salsas. I swallowed it and flipped her off as well.
Just then I look up and I see Wavy Gravy hanging from the chandelier. I guess he had been there the whole time and I just hadn't noticed him. He says, "Wow! Bad news, man! I spiked the salsa bowl with some acid I got from Walter Cronkite! First class government stuff! You're gonna be tripping for a month, man! It's heavy duty shit! The kind they use on blue whales! Fast acting too!"
I look down at this point and see that I'm slowly sinking into the floor. I'm waist deep in some kind of retro/googie/post-moderne space ship pattern that's like something right out of George Jetson's kitchen. Blurp, blurp! It a matter of moments I find myself chest deep and sinking deeper. Fast acting doesn't do this electric salsa justice. I'm fucking ripped!
A voice screams out, "Just the asshole I've been looking for!"
Oh, Christ! It's Billy Barty! He's been gunning for me ever since he got burned on that heroin deal. I've tried to explain that I had nothing to do with it. That I don't even know Bill Cullen but he just won't listen. The blame has to fall somewhere and he's picked me for the fall guy. He kicks me in the nuts, awfully hard for a guy his size but I'm so fucked up I just laugh even harder. Now he's crazed. "Nobody laughs at me!", he screams.
I'm about to shoot back with, "Yeah. You're just not very funny any more, Tiny!", when I see that I'm sunk into the floor up to my chin. Billy straps the mask from the nitrous tank on my face and cranks the gas up to eleven.
Just before I pass out I think, "Great... it's one of THOSE nights?"
(for Terry Southern)
Now, you have to consider the condition of my brain at this point. I had gotten a ride to the party in Stan Lee's limo, Stan was hitting the Jack rather fiercely that night and, seeing as to how he hadn't been invited to said party felt a need to challenge me to some guzzling. "C'mon, you true unbeliever! Suck some back!" I tried to be polite. Told him I'd be having my fill soon enough but when he started calling me a pussy I figured the gauntlet had been thrown and chugged about a third of the bottle with my right hand while flipping his ass off defiantly with my left. "Pussy THAT, old-timer!", I snarled and handed the bottle back. It was about that time that he laid out some Godzilla sized lines of what he liked to call "South American Jumping Powder". Suffice to say that on the way up the drive the drops of water glittering on the oh so green of the lawn struck me as solid and complete proof of God's existence. "How could anything that beautiful come into our reality without some kind of divine handiwork involved?" You know, that whole drinky/druggy vibe.
So I opened the door and Robert Conrad is standing there with a huge tank of nitrous (the kind with wheels and a handle attached for easy transportation) and a case of Night Train. I guess he was slumming it that night. "Hey, asshole! Where's the fucking party at?", he screamed, and by the smell of near cheese on his breath I could tell he had been into the 'train for quite some time.
He shoved a bottle in my face and said, "Drink this, nancy boy or I'll strangle you with a live dachshund." Laugh? I nearly crapped. The guy did have his moments, humor-wise, I have to give him that.
I'm standing there, putting away the Night Train when he bellows, "Where the fuck do I put my coat?". He opens a door and Paul Lynde sticks his head out of the crack, sees the confusion on Conrad's face, and says, in a Chardonnay fueled impression of himself, "Sorry, Bob. I'm not out of the closet yet!"
Conrad: "Suck my dick!"
Lynde: "Take a number, cowboy!"
That did it. I totally lost it at that point. Was laughing so hard I started to lose my balance, right? So I stick my left hand out and grab the first thing I feel to steady myself. Wrong move on my part. I found myself hanging onto Margaret Dumont's left breast! She says, in that shocked, upper crust kind of way that is all hers, "Well! I never!"
Pat Sajak is walking by at that point, helping Dianne Arbus to the bathroom. You know how she gets after seven or eight Bloody Marys, just a full on pain in the ass. Pat says to Miss. Dumont, "Oh, yeah? What about that night with the donkey at that boat show in Sheboygan?"
Dumont blushes and, just as she's about to answer him Dianne Arbus says, "Aw, shut up, bitch! I've got pictures to prove it." That Dianne Arbus being ever at the ready with a cutting rejoinder, to be sure.
I'm on the floor at this point, laughing as if insane. Dumont shoves her hand into a nearby salsa bowl and crams a fist full into my open mouth. I'm so wasted I don't even feel it. Either that or it was one of those wimpy mild brands of salsas. I swallowed it and flipped her off as well.
Just then I look up and I see Wavy Gravy hanging from the chandelier. I guess he had been there the whole time and I just hadn't noticed him. He says, "Wow! Bad news, man! I spiked the salsa bowl with some acid I got from Walter Cronkite! First class government stuff! You're gonna be tripping for a month, man! It's heavy duty shit! The kind they use on blue whales! Fast acting too!"
I look down at this point and see that I'm slowly sinking into the floor. I'm waist deep in some kind of retro/googie/post-moderne space ship pattern that's like something right out of George Jetson's kitchen. Blurp, blurp! It a matter of moments I find myself chest deep and sinking deeper. Fast acting doesn't do this electric salsa justice. I'm fucking ripped!
A voice screams out, "Just the asshole I've been looking for!"
Oh, Christ! It's Billy Barty! He's been gunning for me ever since he got burned on that heroin deal. I've tried to explain that I had nothing to do with it. That I don't even know Bill Cullen but he just won't listen. The blame has to fall somewhere and he's picked me for the fall guy. He kicks me in the nuts, awfully hard for a guy his size but I'm so fucked up I just laugh even harder. Now he's crazed. "Nobody laughs at me!", he screams.
I'm about to shoot back with, "Yeah. You're just not very funny any more, Tiny!", when I see that I'm sunk into the floor up to my chin. Billy straps the mask from the nitrous tank on my face and cranks the gas up to eleven.
Just before I pass out I think, "Great... it's one of THOSE nights?"
(for Terry Southern)
Top Ten Reasons Stalking Can Be A Bitch
(10) The hours suck.
(9) You lose sleep.
(8) It doesn't pay for shit.
(7) "The Catcher In The Rye" gets boring the 12th time you read it.
(6) In the TV movie of your story you never get a writing credit.
(5) Clothes get torn when climbing barb wire fences.
(4) The annual stalker's dinner and dance has a no host bar.
(3) It's hard to think of something new to leave on the answering machine when you call 25 times a day.
(2) Them stinkin' headaches.
(1) You get rubber cement all over the place when pasting cut-out words on threatning notes.
(for Snowy)
(9) You lose sleep.
(8) It doesn't pay for shit.
(7) "The Catcher In The Rye" gets boring the 12th time you read it.
(6) In the TV movie of your story you never get a writing credit.
(5) Clothes get torn when climbing barb wire fences.
(4) The annual stalker's dinner and dance has a no host bar.
(3) It's hard to think of something new to leave on the answering machine when you call 25 times a day.
(2) Them stinkin' headaches.
(1) You get rubber cement all over the place when pasting cut-out words on threatning notes.
(for Snowy)
The S. Effect
He sat at the motor lodge bar
Drinking
And smoking his brains out
A guy sat next to him
Offered his hand
A salesman from Sheboygan
Both said hello
Bought each other drinks
Joked about sports
And presidents
And cars
And such
At one point
The talk turned to women
And the problems that pop up with them
When you least expect it
The salesman laughed
And told him a story
"I don't really know how it happened. Nope, not me. Not really. I'm not very good with real life. She was a blonde, I do know that much, and a babe to boot. Matching collar and cuffs. The whole deal, man. Hooo-weee! A total dollface, that's for sure."
"She met another guy and caught a plane to dreamland or whatever. I guess he was a better hunter/gatherer than I was, you know? Fuckin' life, man! Don't ask me. All I know is movies. Yeah, life is kind of like a movie. Takes too long for stuff to happen though, no fades or lap dissolves. There was a time when you didn't have music anywhere you wanted but the Japanese invented the Walkman and that was the end of that problem. One down,Etc..."
"The babe left. Busted my ass up pretty bad, if you catch my riff. Spent a whole lot of time curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor cryin' all four of my eyes out, bad news time and all like that. Woulda just got drunk and stayed there but I lost my job too. It was a very shitty month. The sort of thing that turns quiet guys into psycho killers and makes heroin such a popular way to spend your free time."
"One night: I'm done, man. This shit has got to end. The floor is really talking my bones into all new states of pain. Besides, now and then somebody will knock on the bathroom door, "Hey, man! Ya wanna snap it up in there? I had Mexican for lunch!" Then I have to wipe my eyes and act like everything's okay, "sorry about that. I was reading the new TV Guide, Lemme know when you're done. I gots to finish the crossword puzzle, bla bla bla..." I can't take this hurting any longer. Must pull my stuff together, you understand."
"I start to work it out in my head. Why does this happen? Why do relationships fall apart? Who's the blame for crap like this? After a couple of days the thoughts jell and I figure it out. Shall I tell you? Would you like to know?"
" 'The process of natural selection in conjunction with the second law of thermodynamics'. That's it man. That why it all crumbles. That's why shit like that falls apart."
"There was this guy a long time ago. He was a doctor or a writer, some shit like that. His name was Darwin and he said that women tend to seek out strong and dominate males in order to propagate, to reproduce, and keep their species alive. Chicks dig big, strong, bad ass guys with shitloads of cold hard cash. They can't really help it, it's in their DNA. It's called the process of natural selection. Oh, and guys do it too. That's part of why guys like big tits."
"Also there was this other guy, I don't who the fuck he was but he discovered entropy."
"Let's say you've got s nice ice cold glass of Dr Pepper sitting on your coffee table and you get tired and leave it there when you go to bed. In the morning you wake up and what do you have? You've got a flat glass of warm brown crap, that what you have. The soda has fallen from the cool goodness to the harsh badness. That's entropy, man, things collapse. Entropy is the second law of thermodynamics."
"And that all you need to know. The process of natural selection in conjunction with the second law of thermodynamics. It's my own theory. I call it "the shithouse effect" for short. The other person's ass is always greener and most things fall apart anyway. It's not her fault and it wasn't mine either. So I got up off the floor and grabbed the remote control and got the fuck on with my life."
"Now so can you."
He slapped the salesman on the back
Offered him a smoke
And told him how he understood
How he had been there as well
How women are nothing but trouble
But...
What can you do?
Take up knitting?
Build ships in bottles?
Maybe go homo?
Real guy talk stuff
He shoved some quarters in the jukebox
Played some old R and B
Called the bartender over
And bought a couple more doubles
It was time to move on to the knock knock jokes
Drinking
And smoking his brains out
A guy sat next to him
Offered his hand
A salesman from Sheboygan
Both said hello
Bought each other drinks
Joked about sports
And presidents
And cars
And such
At one point
The talk turned to women
And the problems that pop up with them
When you least expect it
The salesman laughed
And told him a story
"I don't really know how it happened. Nope, not me. Not really. I'm not very good with real life. She was a blonde, I do know that much, and a babe to boot. Matching collar and cuffs. The whole deal, man. Hooo-weee! A total dollface, that's for sure."
"She met another guy and caught a plane to dreamland or whatever. I guess he was a better hunter/gatherer than I was, you know? Fuckin' life, man! Don't ask me. All I know is movies. Yeah, life is kind of like a movie. Takes too long for stuff to happen though, no fades or lap dissolves. There was a time when you didn't have music anywhere you wanted but the Japanese invented the Walkman and that was the end of that problem. One down,Etc..."
"The babe left. Busted my ass up pretty bad, if you catch my riff. Spent a whole lot of time curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor cryin' all four of my eyes out, bad news time and all like that. Woulda just got drunk and stayed there but I lost my job too. It was a very shitty month. The sort of thing that turns quiet guys into psycho killers and makes heroin such a popular way to spend your free time."
"One night: I'm done, man. This shit has got to end. The floor is really talking my bones into all new states of pain. Besides, now and then somebody will knock on the bathroom door, "Hey, man! Ya wanna snap it up in there? I had Mexican for lunch!" Then I have to wipe my eyes and act like everything's okay, "sorry about that. I was reading the new TV Guide, Lemme know when you're done. I gots to finish the crossword puzzle, bla bla bla..." I can't take this hurting any longer. Must pull my stuff together, you understand."
"I start to work it out in my head. Why does this happen? Why do relationships fall apart? Who's the blame for crap like this? After a couple of days the thoughts jell and I figure it out. Shall I tell you? Would you like to know?"
" 'The process of natural selection in conjunction with the second law of thermodynamics'. That's it man. That why it all crumbles. That's why shit like that falls apart."
"There was this guy a long time ago. He was a doctor or a writer, some shit like that. His name was Darwin and he said that women tend to seek out strong and dominate males in order to propagate, to reproduce, and keep their species alive. Chicks dig big, strong, bad ass guys with shitloads of cold hard cash. They can't really help it, it's in their DNA. It's called the process of natural selection. Oh, and guys do it too. That's part of why guys like big tits."
"Also there was this other guy, I don't who the fuck he was but he discovered entropy."
"Let's say you've got s nice ice cold glass of Dr Pepper sitting on your coffee table and you get tired and leave it there when you go to bed. In the morning you wake up and what do you have? You've got a flat glass of warm brown crap, that what you have. The soda has fallen from the cool goodness to the harsh badness. That's entropy, man, things collapse. Entropy is the second law of thermodynamics."
"And that all you need to know. The process of natural selection in conjunction with the second law of thermodynamics. It's my own theory. I call it "the shithouse effect" for short. The other person's ass is always greener and most things fall apart anyway. It's not her fault and it wasn't mine either. So I got up off the floor and grabbed the remote control and got the fuck on with my life."
"Now so can you."
He slapped the salesman on the back
Offered him a smoke
And told him how he understood
How he had been there as well
How women are nothing but trouble
But...
What can you do?
Take up knitting?
Build ships in bottles?
Maybe go homo?
Real guy talk stuff
He shoved some quarters in the jukebox
Played some old R and B
Called the bartender over
And bought a couple more doubles
It was time to move on to the knock knock jokes
Liquid
The sun is liquid and gold with love and promise
It flows aside me, watching
Flows inside me, talking
My eyes are aglow with heart's desire
Birds sing both opera and doo-wop all at once
Blues and greens collide and dance along
Flowers whisper my name as a chorus
Love rains down, taking the solo
Soaking us all with the music
Its wet resolve hums the backbeat
The sky looks down
And smiles it's kindly smile
It's yet another beautiful day
And we are the children and the owners
Of the earthly homeland that swings
Beneath our feet.
Man!
Sometimes these acid flashbacks are fun!
It flows aside me, watching
Flows inside me, talking
My eyes are aglow with heart's desire
Birds sing both opera and doo-wop all at once
Blues and greens collide and dance along
Flowers whisper my name as a chorus
Love rains down, taking the solo
Soaking us all with the music
Its wet resolve hums the backbeat
The sky looks down
And smiles it's kindly smile
It's yet another beautiful day
And we are the children and the owners
Of the earthly homeland that swings
Beneath our feet.
Man!
Sometimes these acid flashbacks are fun!
Lime Green Time Machine
The funeral was sad
(No big surprise there)
Dark clouds
Rain
It was just like in the movies
Newmar stood in the back
Taking hits off of a pint of Jim Beam
Mixing tears with pain
A poem, a quote, a mound of earth
And his Uncle Pete was buried
Newmar sighed
As his mind wandered back
It was the fourth of July
A bar-b-que with his family
He was playing in the dirt
With toy tanks and plastic dinosaurs
When he suddenly felt a weird vibe
He caught a feeling of something very bad
And very hot
He jumped up and tackled Uncle Pete
Knocking him down and safely away
Just before the grill exploded
In a huge fireball
For no reason at all
He had saved his uncle's life
"You've given me time", Uncle Pete had said
"Someday I'll do the same for you"
After the funeral he went home
To a big yellow house
That his uncle had left him in his will
He stood in the living room
And looked at Uncle Pete's stuff
Books, photos, and the like
Mere objects that were all that was left of his Uncle Pete's life
It made him feel empty
For Uncle Pete was also a trusted friend
Then
One night
Drunk on white wine and memories
Newmar found himself in the basement holding a cardboard box
A post-it note on it said:
"You gave me time
Now I've done the same for you"
It was signed by Uncle Pete
Inside the box were a couple of thousand
Styrofoam pellets
A strange looking lime green belt
And a small blue notebook
He took the belt and book upstairs
Sat down in a chair in the living room
And
An hour later was the owner of his very own time machine
That Uncle Pete had built from scratch
And even though Newmar was amazed
He still felt empty inside
Newmar examined the belt
There were knobs and buttons on it
And some small lights
On a panel on the front
It didn't look real
It looked like something out of Flash Gordon
All at once there was a flash of light
And a popping sound
Air being shoved out of the way
Standing next to Newmar
There was another Newmar
Exactly like himself
But he wasn't holding the belt
He was wearing it
"Hi!"
He said
"I'm from the future. Why don't you give it a try?"
Newmar put the belt on
Set it for a minute in the past
And pushed a button
There was a popping sound
Air being pushed out of the way
Newmar was looking at himself
Holding the belt
"Hi!"
He said
"I'm from the future. Why don't you give it a try?"
He watched himself put the belt on
And then set it for a minute in the past
And push a button
A flash
And a pop
And he was alone again
He went upstairs
Got very drunk
And thought about things
In the weeks that followed he saw
Martin and Lewis live
David Bowie in 1972
Blondie
Marilyn Monroe arriving at various movie premieres
The Marx Brothers on tour
His parent's wedding
His own birth
And so on...
(he resisted the urge to visit Uncle Pete
he just wasn't ready for that)
He had fun
And learned a lot
But
He still felt empty
See...
Newmar needed a purpose
A mission in life
A reason to live
He needed to feel full
One day
While visiting the fifties
He took in a movie
And before it was over
He knew what he had to do
So he returned to his own time
And went to a coin shop
And bought all of the fifties money he could
And went to the fifties
And bought comic books
And returned to his own time
And sold them
And bought fifties money
And went back
And bought more comic books
And returned
And sold them
And bought fifties money
And went back
Over and over again
When he was rich
He went around town and bought even older money
And packed a bag
And bid his house goodbye
Standing on the pier
In Santa Monica
He threw the belt into the ocean
Thankfully
It sank
Then he hailed a cab
There are no questions
That money can't answer
So when he signed the papers
There were smiles all around
And he picked up new daughter
And walked out of the orphanage
And smiled wide himself
"Are you really my father?"
She asked
"Yes. I am now."
"Then can we get some ice cream and go see the new Clark Gable picture?"
He watched the sunlight
Dance through her hair
And he patted her head
And smiled again
"Anything you want, Norma Jeane,"
He answered
"Anything at all."
Then he stooped down
And gave her a hug
"He gave me time"
He whispered
"Now I'm doing the same for you."
He didn't feel empty
(No big surprise there)
Dark clouds
Rain
It was just like in the movies
Newmar stood in the back
Taking hits off of a pint of Jim Beam
Mixing tears with pain
A poem, a quote, a mound of earth
And his Uncle Pete was buried
Newmar sighed
As his mind wandered back
It was the fourth of July
A bar-b-que with his family
He was playing in the dirt
With toy tanks and plastic dinosaurs
When he suddenly felt a weird vibe
He caught a feeling of something very bad
And very hot
He jumped up and tackled Uncle Pete
Knocking him down and safely away
Just before the grill exploded
In a huge fireball
For no reason at all
He had saved his uncle's life
"You've given me time", Uncle Pete had said
"Someday I'll do the same for you"
After the funeral he went home
To a big yellow house
That his uncle had left him in his will
He stood in the living room
And looked at Uncle Pete's stuff
Books, photos, and the like
Mere objects that were all that was left of his Uncle Pete's life
It made him feel empty
For Uncle Pete was also a trusted friend
Then
One night
Drunk on white wine and memories
Newmar found himself in the basement holding a cardboard box
A post-it note on it said:
"You gave me time
Now I've done the same for you"
It was signed by Uncle Pete
Inside the box were a couple of thousand
Styrofoam pellets
A strange looking lime green belt
And a small blue notebook
He took the belt and book upstairs
Sat down in a chair in the living room
And
An hour later was the owner of his very own time machine
That Uncle Pete had built from scratch
And even though Newmar was amazed
He still felt empty inside
Newmar examined the belt
There were knobs and buttons on it
And some small lights
On a panel on the front
It didn't look real
It looked like something out of Flash Gordon
All at once there was a flash of light
And a popping sound
Air being shoved out of the way
Standing next to Newmar
There was another Newmar
Exactly like himself
But he wasn't holding the belt
He was wearing it
"Hi!"
He said
"I'm from the future. Why don't you give it a try?"
Newmar put the belt on
Set it for a minute in the past
And pushed a button
There was a popping sound
Air being pushed out of the way
Newmar was looking at himself
Holding the belt
"Hi!"
He said
"I'm from the future. Why don't you give it a try?"
He watched himself put the belt on
And then set it for a minute in the past
And push a button
A flash
And a pop
And he was alone again
He went upstairs
Got very drunk
And thought about things
In the weeks that followed he saw
Martin and Lewis live
David Bowie in 1972
Blondie
Marilyn Monroe arriving at various movie premieres
The Marx Brothers on tour
His parent's wedding
His own birth
And so on...
(he resisted the urge to visit Uncle Pete
he just wasn't ready for that)
He had fun
And learned a lot
But
He still felt empty
See...
Newmar needed a purpose
A mission in life
A reason to live
He needed to feel full
One day
While visiting the fifties
He took in a movie
And before it was over
He knew what he had to do
So he returned to his own time
And went to a coin shop
And bought all of the fifties money he could
And went to the fifties
And bought comic books
And returned to his own time
And sold them
And bought fifties money
And went back
And bought more comic books
And returned
And sold them
And bought fifties money
And went back
Over and over again
When he was rich
He went around town and bought even older money
And packed a bag
And bid his house goodbye
Standing on the pier
In Santa Monica
He threw the belt into the ocean
Thankfully
It sank
Then he hailed a cab
There are no questions
That money can't answer
So when he signed the papers
There were smiles all around
And he picked up new daughter
And walked out of the orphanage
And smiled wide himself
"Are you really my father?"
She asked
"Yes. I am now."
"Then can we get some ice cream and go see the new Clark Gable picture?"
He watched the sunlight
Dance through her hair
And he patted her head
And smiled again
"Anything you want, Norma Jeane,"
He answered
"Anything at all."
Then he stooped down
And gave her a hug
"He gave me time"
He whispered
"Now I'm doing the same for you."
He didn't feel empty
Ho-hum
she said: "i think a woman should be able to breast feed wherever she wants."
i said: "why?"
she said: "because it's a beautiful, natural, wonderful thing."
i said: "then i should be able to watch."
she said: "that's sick!"
i said: "how come? it's a beautiful, natural, wonderful thing."
she said: "but it's a private thing. something shared between a mother and child."
i said: "then it should be done somewhere private."
she said: "god! you just don't get it, do you?"
this is one of the many reasons i don't have a girlfriend.
i said: "why?"
she said: "because it's a beautiful, natural, wonderful thing."
i said: "then i should be able to watch."
she said: "that's sick!"
i said: "how come? it's a beautiful, natural, wonderful thing."
she said: "but it's a private thing. something shared between a mother and child."
i said: "then it should be done somewhere private."
she said: "god! you just don't get it, do you?"
this is one of the many reasons i don't have a girlfriend.
Headlights
Hi kids!
How are you all doing today?
Good.
That's real good.
Today I'm going to show you how to make people's eyes lock up like a raccoon caught in a pair of headlights.
Does that sound like fun?
Are you ready?
Then let's go...
Don't you hate it when someone asks how you are doing? I know I do. I always have to say, "Fine. Everything's just fine." Or, "Not bad. How are you today?" Sometimes I just want to grab their face and yell, "None of your fucking business, asshole! What are you? A fucking cop?" But that's not very nice, is it boys and girls? No. That's not very nice at all. So what do you do when you feel like that? Do what I do.
Tell them how you really really feel. That will show them but good. Say something like, "Geeze...I've got this pain in the small of my back, a huge ass headache, I think my lover is cheating on me, I'm late with the rent, my goldfish doesn't understand me, and what's the deal with this fake metal shit? I mean, what the fuck ever happened to good old rock and roll?"
You'd be suprised at the number of people who won't know that you are just messing with them. Most folks will leave you alone real quick. It works most of the time. If you are a girl throw in a mention of "that time of the month", or vaginal warts or something like that. If some guy is bothering you he'll walk away in no time flat. That should work about eighty-five percent of the time.
Of course sometimes you don't feel that angry, just a little bugged.
In that case try this:
Point to your arm and say, "Well, my Aykroyd is grinding against my Verhoeven...you know? Right where the Zemeckis meets the Beatrice Dalle? It makes my Coppola throb like a son of a bitch. My doctor gave me some of that Bon Jovi and, as long as I rub it in deep enough i seem to have it under control."
That ought to show the bastards, huh?
And always remember to tell those Christians, "Um. No thanks! I tried that in my last life and it didn't work out all that great for me."
Welp...
I can see by the clock on the wall that i have to go buy a new clock.
Until next time, see ya next time!
Bye bye, now.
How are you all doing today?
Good.
That's real good.
Today I'm going to show you how to make people's eyes lock up like a raccoon caught in a pair of headlights.
Does that sound like fun?
Are you ready?
Then let's go...
Don't you hate it when someone asks how you are doing? I know I do. I always have to say, "Fine. Everything's just fine." Or, "Not bad. How are you today?" Sometimes I just want to grab their face and yell, "None of your fucking business, asshole! What are you? A fucking cop?" But that's not very nice, is it boys and girls? No. That's not very nice at all. So what do you do when you feel like that? Do what I do.
Tell them how you really really feel. That will show them but good. Say something like, "Geeze...I've got this pain in the small of my back, a huge ass headache, I think my lover is cheating on me, I'm late with the rent, my goldfish doesn't understand me, and what's the deal with this fake metal shit? I mean, what the fuck ever happened to good old rock and roll?"
You'd be suprised at the number of people who won't know that you are just messing with them. Most folks will leave you alone real quick. It works most of the time. If you are a girl throw in a mention of "that time of the month", or vaginal warts or something like that. If some guy is bothering you he'll walk away in no time flat. That should work about eighty-five percent of the time.
Of course sometimes you don't feel that angry, just a little bugged.
In that case try this:
Point to your arm and say, "Well, my Aykroyd is grinding against my Verhoeven...you know? Right where the Zemeckis meets the Beatrice Dalle? It makes my Coppola throb like a son of a bitch. My doctor gave me some of that Bon Jovi and, as long as I rub it in deep enough i seem to have it under control."
That ought to show the bastards, huh?
And always remember to tell those Christians, "Um. No thanks! I tried that in my last life and it didn't work out all that great for me."
Welp...
I can see by the clock on the wall that i have to go buy a new clock.
Until next time, see ya next time!
Bye bye, now.
Elephants
the elephants are moving
(slowly, slowly)
one foot at a time
not going uphill
(lowly, lowly)
in an ordered line
don't think for themselves
(empty, empty)
it's not something they do
wait for instructions
(tempting, tempting)
the trainers make the rules
don't bother with the elephants
they'll freeze still with remorse
their brains are small
and filled up all
with peanuts just
of course
(slowly, slowly)
one foot at a time
not going uphill
(lowly, lowly)
in an ordered line
don't think for themselves
(empty, empty)
it's not something they do
wait for instructions
(tempting, tempting)
the trainers make the rules
don't bother with the elephants
they'll freeze still with remorse
their brains are small
and filled up all
with peanuts just
of course
Some Loose Thoughts
The shortest distance between two points is teleportation.
Don't cry over spilt milk. Unless it's a lot of milk. I mean, like a tanker truck or something.
In the land of the stupid the guy with an average IQ is a god.
I think The Big Bang was named wrong. I mean, how could there be a Big Bang if there was no one around to hear it? Maybe it should be called The Big Flash or, even better The Big Thing since there was no one around to see it either.
If cats had fingers would they flip us off? I know i would.
A penny saved is another stinking penny laying around in an old ash tray, or sock drawer, or whatever.
Violence is entropy plus speed.
I wonder what would happen if Donald Trump yelled, "You're fired!" in a crowded theatre.
If dolphins are so damn smart why don't they have thumbs?
Homer Simpson drinks Duff beer.
Hillary Duff is an actress/singer.
Am I the only one who sees the marketing genius in this?
You only go around once in life. You know, unless you're two faced.
If pork is the other white meat why is ham pink?
Buy the world a coke? No way! I'd like to buy it a shot and a beer and tell it to calm the hell down. The whole world all jacked up on sugar and caffene? Thanks but no thanks, pal. We've got more than enough problems with things as they are.
There is no 'I" in "ART".
I like my women like I like my horror movies. Cheap and funny.
Wearing fake fangs and calling yourself a vampire is exactly as cool as wearing fake ears and calling yourself a vulcan.
I saw a really old movie last night. It was called "The Alamo" and, for the life of me I don't remember anything about it.
I know there is an amazing joke about Shake 'N' Bake but I can't figure out what it is. Sometimes this keeps me awake at night.
Q: How many werewolves does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Two. One to change the bulb and one to eat your face.
Okay.
For the last time:
Headphones go on your head.
Earphones go in your ear.
Are we all straight on that one?
Cool.
Let's move on from there...
Don't cry over spilt milk. Unless it's a lot of milk. I mean, like a tanker truck or something.
In the land of the stupid the guy with an average IQ is a god.
I think The Big Bang was named wrong. I mean, how could there be a Big Bang if there was no one around to hear it? Maybe it should be called The Big Flash or, even better The Big Thing since there was no one around to see it either.
If cats had fingers would they flip us off? I know i would.
A penny saved is another stinking penny laying around in an old ash tray, or sock drawer, or whatever.
Violence is entropy plus speed.
I wonder what would happen if Donald Trump yelled, "You're fired!" in a crowded theatre.
If dolphins are so damn smart why don't they have thumbs?
Homer Simpson drinks Duff beer.
Hillary Duff is an actress/singer.
Am I the only one who sees the marketing genius in this?
You only go around once in life. You know, unless you're two faced.
If pork is the other white meat why is ham pink?
Buy the world a coke? No way! I'd like to buy it a shot and a beer and tell it to calm the hell down. The whole world all jacked up on sugar and caffene? Thanks but no thanks, pal. We've got more than enough problems with things as they are.
There is no 'I" in "ART".
I like my women like I like my horror movies. Cheap and funny.
Wearing fake fangs and calling yourself a vampire is exactly as cool as wearing fake ears and calling yourself a vulcan.
I saw a really old movie last night. It was called "The Alamo" and, for the life of me I don't remember anything about it.
I know there is an amazing joke about Shake 'N' Bake but I can't figure out what it is. Sometimes this keeps me awake at night.
Q: How many werewolves does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Two. One to change the bulb and one to eat your face.
Okay.
For the last time:
Headphones go on your head.
Earphones go in your ear.
Are we all straight on that one?
Cool.
Let's move on from there...
How'll?
for carlo marx
1
i've seen the best minds of my generation sell the fuck out for an suv and some starbucks,
waiting madly for the "will and grace" box set to grab a blissful fix,
addleheaded trendies yearning for an easy connection to justification of their shared assumptions,
etc...
1
i've seen the best minds of my generation sell the fuck out for an suv and some starbucks,
waiting madly for the "will and grace" box set to grab a blissful fix,
addleheaded trendies yearning for an easy connection to justification of their shared assumptions,
etc...
Smith
what's the deal with this anna nicole smith thing?
she was promised four hundred million out of one point six billion?
where's the problem?
what's one point six billion minus four hundred million?
like... i dunno, i'm none too slick with the math or anything but i'm thinking it's gotta be around a gerjillion or so.
if that's not enough for you you should get a head exam.
shit!
i'd be more than happy with that.
i'd even take the point six.
or a point one even.
no, really.
it's cool, man.
i'll be fine.
you guys keep the billion.
people amaze me.
give her the fucking money already.
she fucked the guy, right?
that's how things work.
getting on a high horse don't got shit do do with it.
you know, unless you pay extra for that kind of thing.
she was promised four hundred million out of one point six billion?
where's the problem?
what's one point six billion minus four hundred million?
like... i dunno, i'm none too slick with the math or anything but i'm thinking it's gotta be around a gerjillion or so.
if that's not enough for you you should get a head exam.
shit!
i'd be more than happy with that.
i'd even take the point six.
or a point one even.
no, really.
it's cool, man.
i'll be fine.
you guys keep the billion.
people amaze me.
give her the fucking money already.
she fucked the guy, right?
that's how things work.
getting on a high horse don't got shit do do with it.
you know, unless you pay extra for that kind of thing.
American Idle
for the last time
american idol sucks!
it's three people who can't get a better gig than sitting around talking about how much people suck
then
the person who sucks the least wins and gets to suck on the radio
look
it's all about being safe
and bland
and artless
how long do you think david byrne would last on that show?
or david bowie?
pete townshend?
patti smith?
tom waits?
buddy holly?
fats waller?
laurie anderson?
little richard?
joey ramone?
courtney love?
iggy?
fucking iggy?
iggy wouldn't last two seconds
"would you like to stop screaming and put your shirt back on? you're just awful. i heard better the last time i stepped on a cat. and blah, blah, blah..."
forget about it, kids...
american idol sucks!
it's three people who can't get a better gig than sitting around talking about how much people suck
then
the person who sucks the least wins and gets to suck on the radio
look
it's all about being safe
and bland
and artless
how long do you think david byrne would last on that show?
or david bowie?
pete townshend?
patti smith?
tom waits?
buddy holly?
fats waller?
laurie anderson?
little richard?
joey ramone?
courtney love?
iggy?
fucking iggy?
iggy wouldn't last two seconds
"would you like to stop screaming and put your shirt back on? you're just awful. i heard better the last time i stepped on a cat. and blah, blah, blah..."
forget about it, kids...
OH!
i was watching a commercial this afternoon and it hit me like a flash of light!
i UNDERSTAND now!
we were born to buy shiny shit that we don't really need in order to impress people that wouldn't be impressed with us if we didn't own shiny shit that we don't really need.
and all these years i've been busy trying to learn about art so i can express myself better?
whatta fuckin' doof!
i UNDERSTAND now!
we were born to buy shiny shit that we don't really need in order to impress people that wouldn't be impressed with us if we didn't own shiny shit that we don't really need.
and all these years i've been busy trying to learn about art so i can express myself better?
whatta fuckin' doof!
Morphs
Two polymorphs are having a spat. One is a male, the other a female. Things get more and more heated until the chick takes a cheap shot at the guy.
"You know", she says, coldly, "being a polymorph I don't understand why you don't have a bigger dick!"
"Well", he answers, "if it bothers you that much why don't you just make your pussy smaller?"
She screams at his rudeness and beats him to death with a floor lamp.
At her trial she is found not guilty and cleared of all charges and, after a huge bidding war The Lifetime Network pays her twenty million dollars for the rights to her story. The TV movie ( "I Beat My Hubby To Death With A Floor Lamp: One Woman's Story") is one of the highest rated in the history of all time.
And she lived happily ever after.
The End
(for Mr. Mike)
"You know", she says, coldly, "being a polymorph I don't understand why you don't have a bigger dick!"
"Well", he answers, "if it bothers you that much why don't you just make your pussy smaller?"
She screams at his rudeness and beats him to death with a floor lamp.
At her trial she is found not guilty and cleared of all charges and, after a huge bidding war The Lifetime Network pays her twenty million dollars for the rights to her story. The TV movie ( "I Beat My Hubby To Death With A Floor Lamp: One Woman's Story") is one of the highest rated in the history of all time.
And she lived happily ever after.
The End
(for Mr. Mike)
LOVE IS GREAT!!!
I consider myself a neo-poet because I seem to be doing things with words that I don't see anybody else doing. I'm not writing about how pretty trees are, how beautiful her limpid pools were, or how my love is like a red, red rose. None of that stuff has any real meaning or point of view. I'd rather express ideas. And maybe make you laugh while you think about those ideas.
Besides:
If you don't know how great love or beauty is by the time you're twenty or thirty then you're a moron and there's not a whole lot my writing is going to help you with.
I'll tell you what, if you need to be reminded how great love is here's a little gift for you:
LOVE IS GREAT!!!
Feel free to look at it anytime you'd like.
And...
Now that we have that one out of the way you are free to think about other things.
Besides:
If you don't know how great love or beauty is by the time you're twenty or thirty then you're a moron and there's not a whole lot my writing is going to help you with.
I'll tell you what, if you need to be reminded how great love is here's a little gift for you:
LOVE IS GREAT!!!
Feel free to look at it anytime you'd like.
And...
Now that we have that one out of the way you are free to think about other things.
Objects
Some people don't like to be thought of as objects. If you are one of those people guess what?
You have shape and you exist in three dimentional space (four if you include time) and, therefore you are an object.
I think it was Sting who said, "Truth hits everybody", and seeing as to how you are an object it just hit you.
Somebody else once said, "Truth hurts", And if you're feeling angry right now that would tend to explain your reaction.
I'm sorry about that.
Next time I'll try to remember to tell you when to duck.
But don't count on it.
You have shape and you exist in three dimentional space (four if you include time) and, therefore you are an object.
I think it was Sting who said, "Truth hits everybody", and seeing as to how you are an object it just hit you.
Somebody else once said, "Truth hurts", And if you're feeling angry right now that would tend to explain your reaction.
I'm sorry about that.
Next time I'll try to remember to tell you when to duck.
But don't count on it.
Safe
It's a great feeling to praised, to be told that you've done a good job. To get that little pat on the head, that tasty hunk of cheese after you have ran through the maze. It's a way of having what you think is true accepted, and for most of us that's pretty much all we really want and need. It feels warm to feel loved.
On the other hand, being told that you have failed hurts. How much could somebody really love you if they don't love something that you have created? It gets cold and lonely out there sometimes and who needs to feel like that? Being alone in the cold sucks. It sucks ice.
And that's one of the major reasons most people will never be artists, no matter what they tell themselves or others.
They don't take chances.
Crossing the edge scares them.
Better safe than artsy.
On the other hand, being told that you have failed hurts. How much could somebody really love you if they don't love something that you have created? It gets cold and lonely out there sometimes and who needs to feel like that? Being alone in the cold sucks. It sucks ice.
And that's one of the major reasons most people will never be artists, no matter what they tell themselves or others.
They don't take chances.
Crossing the edge scares them.
Better safe than artsy.
A Post Modern Mantra
jump the ship
turn in mid stream
shoot your guru in the face
burn your mask
tear down the wall
beat your ego into shape
hate your fashion
love your hate
stare off into space
kick a clown
punch a priest
show up late for a date
stomp your feet
raise your voice
it's your life and it's great
hug your guilt
kiss your pain
it's all too true to waste
turn in mid stream
shoot your guru in the face
burn your mask
tear down the wall
beat your ego into shape
hate your fashion
love your hate
stare off into space
kick a clown
punch a priest
show up late for a date
stomp your feet
raise your voice
it's your life and it's great
hug your guilt
kiss your pain
it's all too true to waste
Girls
I want a girl that reads. Not that says she does because she reads a book or two a year and her horoscope now and then but, someone who can handle Vonnegut and some Stephen King now and then. The kind of girl who I'd catch reading the side panel of a cereal box just because she hasn't read one in a while.
I want a chick that writes. Not that says she does because she can copy, paste, and send an e-mail. Someone who can compose a series of paragraphs and reach some point or other. The kind of chick who might teach herself screenplay just because it's a valid form of writing.
I want a babe that understands cinema. Not just says she does because she likes happy endings and has a crush on some actor or another. Someone who's into Dick Miller and loves John Waters. Someone who lives for widescreen and listens to second audio. The type of babe who laughs at zombies and cries at cartoons. Someone who digs Roger Ebert but takes him with a grain of salt.
I want a post-beat, neo-new wave, funny faced angel who's accepted her freedom as a woman and a human being and doesn't feel the need to quote lame sayings and opinions because she lives in fear of not feeling special every three or four seconds.
I want a woman who thinks, damn it!
(big breasts are cool too)
I want a chick that writes. Not that says she does because she can copy, paste, and send an e-mail. Someone who can compose a series of paragraphs and reach some point or other. The kind of chick who might teach herself screenplay just because it's a valid form of writing.
I want a babe that understands cinema. Not just says she does because she likes happy endings and has a crush on some actor or another. Someone who's into Dick Miller and loves John Waters. Someone who lives for widescreen and listens to second audio. The type of babe who laughs at zombies and cries at cartoons. Someone who digs Roger Ebert but takes him with a grain of salt.
I want a post-beat, neo-new wave, funny faced angel who's accepted her freedom as a woman and a human being and doesn't feel the need to quote lame sayings and opinions because she lives in fear of not feeling special every three or four seconds.
I want a woman who thinks, damn it!
(big breasts are cool too)
Kitties (a bedtime story)
Kitties at the IHOP
Kitties at the wheel
Kitties at the bus stop
Kitties always feel...
Sad when they are hungry
Happy when they're full
Glad when playing checkers
Sappy when they pull...
The switch that causes teardrops
A mistake while on the ice
It melts and causes kerplops
And they don't swin so nice
So close your eyes for dream time
A pillow for your head
I've run clean out of cat rhymes
Make up your own instead
(for Heather)
Kitties at the wheel
Kitties at the bus stop
Kitties always feel...
Sad when they are hungry
Happy when they're full
Glad when playing checkers
Sappy when they pull...
The switch that causes teardrops
A mistake while on the ice
It melts and causes kerplops
And they don't swin so nice
So close your eyes for dream time
A pillow for your head
I've run clean out of cat rhymes
Make up your own instead
(for Heather)
Questions
i grew up in a stupid world
with stupid people
they weren't dumb
they were stupid
they never asked questions
they had no vision
they did things just because they did things
i'd ask why they couldn't take the butter out when they first got up
that way it would spread easier when the toast was ready
i asked why things that we used every day were kept under things that were used once or twice a month
why we couldn't try it with cheese just this time
why do you vote for people that you ended up calling jerks six months later
why i couldn't finish the page i was reading first
it's not like the garbage men would leave the trash on the curb the next morning because of my book
i got sent to my room a lot
a lot
now i still ask questions
sometimes i scream them
and stupid people look at me like i should have stayed in my room
i actually know a couple of people who think that i'd be happy if i just told myself i already was
as if delusion trumped truth
lots of people think that way because it works for them
so they think it will work for everybody else
i guess it could work
maybe
if i'd stop asking so many goddamn questions
with stupid people
they weren't dumb
they were stupid
they never asked questions
they had no vision
they did things just because they did things
i'd ask why they couldn't take the butter out when they first got up
that way it would spread easier when the toast was ready
i asked why things that we used every day were kept under things that were used once or twice a month
why we couldn't try it with cheese just this time
why do you vote for people that you ended up calling jerks six months later
why i couldn't finish the page i was reading first
it's not like the garbage men would leave the trash on the curb the next morning because of my book
i got sent to my room a lot
a lot
now i still ask questions
sometimes i scream them
and stupid people look at me like i should have stayed in my room
i actually know a couple of people who think that i'd be happy if i just told myself i already was
as if delusion trumped truth
lots of people think that way because it works for them
so they think it will work for everybody else
i guess it could work
maybe
if i'd stop asking so many goddamn questions
Lung Butter
anybody else here ever
have a big ol' hunka lung butter in your neck
so that
when you said,
"better check my friends list" to yourself
it sounded like
"Franz Liszt"
so you laughed real hard and got all pissed off that you were downsized at work and you haven't had a drink since fucking christmas or something so you really wanna just beat the living shit out of anybody, really...ANYbody. c'mon! ANYBODY GIMME A FUCKING REASON YOU PINHEADED DIPSHITS!!! I"LL CLEAN YOUR FUCKING CLOCKS AND CHARGE YOU DOUBLE FOR PARTS! HUH? HUH? YEAH! THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT YOU SAID, YA MOTHER FUCKING PUSSY! WHY I OUGHTA...
(passes out in a blind rage)
have a big ol' hunka lung butter in your neck
so that
when you said,
"better check my friends list" to yourself
it sounded like
"Franz Liszt"
so you laughed real hard and got all pissed off that you were downsized at work and you haven't had a drink since fucking christmas or something so you really wanna just beat the living shit out of anybody, really...ANYbody. c'mon! ANYBODY GIMME A FUCKING REASON YOU PINHEADED DIPSHITS!!! I"LL CLEAN YOUR FUCKING CLOCKS AND CHARGE YOU DOUBLE FOR PARTS! HUH? HUH? YEAH! THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT YOU SAID, YA MOTHER FUCKING PUSSY! WHY I OUGHTA...
(passes out in a blind rage)
The Oscars
i'm really sick and tired of people saying that the oscars are too long
i don't think they're long enough
i wait all year for them
i wanna see stuff at three in the morning
nobody is forcing you to watch
if they're too long and boring for you
change the channel
i think the superbowl is long and boring
so
know what i do?
i don't watch the superbowl...
i don't think they're long enough
i wait all year for them
i wanna see stuff at three in the morning
nobody is forcing you to watch
if they're too long and boring for you
change the channel
i think the superbowl is long and boring
so
know what i do?
i don't watch the superbowl...
Clones
personally?
i don't really care if they clone people or not. the thing i'm wondering is where clones get souls from? i mean, would a clone be souless or would some poor schmuck (or bimbo. let's be fair) sitting sround in heaven suddenly get sucked back to earth?
"yeah, biff! i'm at this party with lenny bruce, right? and george washington really lets a huge one go! like, the fart of all farts and lenny says..."
WOOSH!
the guy gets yanked away!
his friend's standing there and
"SUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"
the guy collapses into a dot and then pops away
that'd kinda stink, huh?
and then these army/death avenger/ninja angels come to earth and start fucking stuff up and screaming about how there's some shit that we REALLY shouldn't fuck with and all of that crap. we're spoiling all the great afterlife parties because the host keeps vanishing and shit, right? and then this alpha clone says 'NO!" for the first time and these wars erupt and century city gets blown up like in the planet of the apes movies and then all these christians think christ's coming back so they start fucking in the streets and running around naked and these asshole biker types think that they're in charge now and they're setting banks on fire and all of these cults are having fist fights on street corners and i can't get to a liquor store and...
on second thought
fuck cloning!
i don't really care if they clone people or not. the thing i'm wondering is where clones get souls from? i mean, would a clone be souless or would some poor schmuck (or bimbo. let's be fair) sitting sround in heaven suddenly get sucked back to earth?
"yeah, biff! i'm at this party with lenny bruce, right? and george washington really lets a huge one go! like, the fart of all farts and lenny says..."
WOOSH!
the guy gets yanked away!
his friend's standing there and
"SUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"
the guy collapses into a dot and then pops away
that'd kinda stink, huh?
and then these army/death avenger/ninja angels come to earth and start fucking stuff up and screaming about how there's some shit that we REALLY shouldn't fuck with and all of that crap. we're spoiling all the great afterlife parties because the host keeps vanishing and shit, right? and then this alpha clone says 'NO!" for the first time and these wars erupt and century city gets blown up like in the planet of the apes movies and then all these christians think christ's coming back so they start fucking in the streets and running around naked and these asshole biker types think that they're in charge now and they're setting banks on fire and all of these cults are having fist fights on street corners and i can't get to a liquor store and...
on second thought
fuck cloning!
Car
don't ya hate it when
you really really want something
and
it's all you think about
and it fucknig owns you
and
then
it never happens
so
you pick up a hitch hiker
and
shove a crowbar into his head
and hide the body in your trunk
and
it starts to smell really bad
so
you drive the car into a lake
and
you left your cell phone in the car?
HAW!!!
i fucking hate that shit!
you really really want something
and
it's all you think about
and it fucknig owns you
and
then
it never happens
so
you pick up a hitch hiker
and
shove a crowbar into his head
and hide the body in your trunk
and
it starts to smell really bad
so
you drive the car into a lake
and
you left your cell phone in the car?
HAW!!!
i fucking hate that shit!
Dog
a guy goes to russia and, while taking in the sights he sees a stray dog. he asks around and the dog doesn't seem to have an owner so he decides to keep it. he doesn't know what to name it so he looks up and sees a street sign that says "ballzytch" so that's what he names the dog. he vacations all around europe and the last place he goes before heading back to america is england. he's standing on a corner and the dog runs out into traffic and WHAMMO! it gets creamed by one of those double decker busses. he freaks out and starts screaming, "OH! MY BALLZYTCH! OH! MY BALLZYTCH!".
an english guy who's on the way to work stops and says, "guv'nor? when my balls itch i scratch them."
hey, i was about 10 when i heard it and i fell off of my skateboard...
an english guy who's on the way to work stops and says, "guv'nor? when my balls itch i scratch them."
hey, i was about 10 when i heard it and i fell off of my skateboard...
M.F.M
i'm watching "some like it hot"
again
and
i'm thinking
(i really think)
that
it
would be cool
if
next year
Marilyn Monroe's name
would be changed
by law
to
Marilyn Fucking Monroe
i mean
c'mon
we're talking about
Marilyn Fucking Monroe here
Marilyn Fucking Monroe!
what?
am i alone on this one?
again
and
i'm thinking
(i really think)
that
it
would be cool
if
next year
Marilyn Monroe's name
would be changed
by law
to
Marilyn Fucking Monroe
i mean
c'mon
we're talking about
Marilyn Fucking Monroe here
Marilyn Fucking Monroe!
what?
am i alone on this one?
Patch
i'm not too sure about that non-pregnant patch thingy
i mean
if you're screwing around
and
can't remember to take a pill
or
pack some gloves
maybe you oughta cut down a bit...
i mean
if you're screwing around
and
can't remember to take a pill
or
pack some gloves
maybe you oughta cut down a bit...
It's some good fucking food!
man!
i fucking LOVE soup!
it's a whole fucking meal
and
you get to drink it!
add some bread
and
woah, lawdy mama!
amazing stuff, that...
(fuck the citizens for ordinary jam!)
i fucking LOVE soup!
it's a whole fucking meal
and
you get to drink it!
add some bread
and
woah, lawdy mama!
amazing stuff, that...
(fuck the citizens for ordinary jam!)
Yes, asshole. It's my final answer.
three things to do if you're ever a phone a friend on "who wants to be a millionaire?"
1) answer the phone, say, "hang on a sec, huh?", then flush the toilet. wait a moment then say, "burritos, man... geezuz!"
2) answer the phone and start to talk then hold the phone away from your face and yell, "WANNA SHUT UP? IT'S THE FUCKING MILLIONAIRE SHOW! IF YOU KIDS DON'T KNOCK IT OFF I'M GONNA KICK THE LIVING SHIT OUTTA YOU!". then say, "sorry. what do ya need?"
3) answer the phone, breathing heavy and acting all tired. mumble, "i guess that'll show that bitch." then say, "hi! what's up?"
1) answer the phone, say, "hang on a sec, huh?", then flush the toilet. wait a moment then say, "burritos, man... geezuz!"
2) answer the phone and start to talk then hold the phone away from your face and yell, "WANNA SHUT UP? IT'S THE FUCKING MILLIONAIRE SHOW! IF YOU KIDS DON'T KNOCK IT OFF I'M GONNA KICK THE LIVING SHIT OUTTA YOU!". then say, "sorry. what do ya need?"
3) answer the phone, breathing heavy and acting all tired. mumble, "i guess that'll show that bitch." then say, "hi! what's up?"
Sheesh!
A lot of people (and I'm talking most of them here) have had pretty fucked up childhoods. They have to somehow deal with grownups who only have an average intelligence. The type of grownups who really don't listen to them because they are only kids. These kids are often told things like, "Because I said so.", "You wouldn't understand.", and, my personal favorite, "When you grow up you can be unfair too." These things are driven into their heads and, at some point their tiny minds snap and they figure, "Yeah! Once I get grown up I'll never have to be wrong and, anybody who ever tells me I'm wrong can kiss my fucking ass! I'll be all grown up!" It never occurs to them that most grownups are total assholes and that, therefore it would be really stupid to become yet another asshole, regardless of their neurotic need to never have to ever feel bad or wrong again. It's a mind fuck pyramid scheme that never gets broken because it feeds on itself. It becomes its own get out of jail free card. "I CAN'T be wrong because when I was younger I decided that once I got to this age I'd never have to be wrong and if I'm wrong then my poor little head would hurt and that would be way too wrong for me to deal with."
(read that more than once )
This, in a nutshell is why we have wars.
And why I really think that most people are fucking morons.
Aw, fuck it all.
What do I know?
I'm gonna start drinking...
(read that more than once )
This, in a nutshell is why we have wars.
And why I really think that most people are fucking morons.
Aw, fuck it all.
What do I know?
I'm gonna start drinking...
"The Lady Is A Skank"
she sleeps with rap stars
don't care if they're dead
kicked out of high school
for using her head
once pulled a three way
with barney and fred
that's why the lady is a skank
had a crack party
just her and your mom
caught giving hand jobs
to mothra and kong
she's quite excited
i re-wrote this song
that's why the lady is a skank
everything's free folks
don't hafta pay
two drinks and you're laid
her throat
don't choke
dresses in latex
it makes her ass damp
that's why the lady
i'm talking lady
that's why this babe's a big ol' skank
don't care if they're dead
kicked out of high school
for using her head
once pulled a three way
with barney and fred
that's why the lady is a skank
had a crack party
just her and your mom
caught giving hand jobs
to mothra and kong
she's quite excited
i re-wrote this song
that's why the lady is a skank
everything's free folks
don't hafta pay
two drinks and you're laid
her throat
don't choke
dresses in latex
it makes her ass damp
that's why the lady
i'm talking lady
that's why this babe's a big ol' skank
Disgruntled
i don't think i'm disgruntled
i think i'm really quite gruntled
in fact
i've got gruntled written all over me.
i think i'm really quite gruntled
in fact
i've got gruntled written all over me.
Klondike Bar
what would i do for a klondike bar?
hmmmmm...
i guess i'd say
"klondike bar? wow! can i please have one?"
and
if i got one i'd be sure to say thank you
hmmmmm...
i guess i'd say
"klondike bar? wow! can i please have one?"
and
if i got one i'd be sure to say thank you
U.F.O.
if you see an ad on tv that says
"mysterious lights in the sky
ufo's?
find out at eleven."
you can pretty much figure that they won't be ufo's.
why?
because
if they were ufo's the show you are watching would be interrupted
and a newscaster would be screaming
"HOLY SHIT!!!
IT'S UFO'S!
RUN FOR YOUR FUCKING LIVES!"
"mysterious lights in the sky
ufo's?
find out at eleven."
you can pretty much figure that they won't be ufo's.
why?
because
if they were ufo's the show you are watching would be interrupted
and a newscaster would be screaming
"HOLY SHIT!!!
IT'S UFO'S!
RUN FOR YOUR FUCKING LIVES!"
11:37 pm
PISCES:
"You've got the answer, but they might not know it. Speak up and let your gang know what it needs. You'll be surprised by the end result but you have to get the ball rolling."
hmmmmmmm....
you should all be nice to each other
don't litter
don't pay any attention to the news
and send me money
lots and lots of money
"You've got the answer, but they might not know it. Speak up and let your gang know what it needs. You'll be surprised by the end result but you have to get the ball rolling."
hmmmmmmm....
you should all be nice to each other
don't litter
don't pay any attention to the news
and send me money
lots and lots of money
Purple
fuck the red pill
fuck the blue pill
take half of each
the truth is purple
and
sometimes
there is a spoon...
fuck the blue pill
take half of each
the truth is purple
and
sometimes
there is a spoon...
Really
i think that if you are really hungry
i mean REALLY hungry
you should be able to walk into a store
and tell someone
and they should give it to you
i think that if you really need a CD
i mean REALLY need a CD
you should be able to walk into a store
and tell someone
and they should give it to you
i think that if you really need a drink
i mean REALLY need a drink
you should be able to walk into a bar
and tell someone
and they should give it to you
none of these things will ever happen however
because
as humans we have no real sense of honor
some asshole always has to take advantage
and fuck it all up for the rest of us
some of the people that i know think that i'm a downer
that i just create negativity
they are wrong
i'm just honest
and
as people
we suck
i mean REALLY hungry
you should be able to walk into a store
and tell someone
and they should give it to you
i think that if you really need a CD
i mean REALLY need a CD
you should be able to walk into a store
and tell someone
and they should give it to you
i think that if you really need a drink
i mean REALLY need a drink
you should be able to walk into a bar
and tell someone
and they should give it to you
none of these things will ever happen however
because
as humans we have no real sense of honor
some asshole always has to take advantage
and fuck it all up for the rest of us
some of the people that i know think that i'm a downer
that i just create negativity
they are wrong
i'm just honest
and
as people
we suck
SPLAT!
i'm walking down the street, listening to "sgt. pepper's" and there's these piano movers hoisting a full sized grand piano into a window on the twenty-seventh floor of an office building
it's a pink enameled piano. the white keys are black and the black keys are pink
the cable snaps and, just as the piano in the song hits that really long note at the end of the "pepper's" album
WHAMMO!
i get crushed before i even know it
SPLAT!
i'm liquid!
on the news that night a guy in an oingo boingo t-shirt says
"well, i didn't really see it happen but it sounded fucking amazing!"
i really want to die this way
i honestly want it to happen
and the fact that it never will will be proof
cold, hard, scientific proof
after my death
that new age people don't have a clue
about what they are talking about
it's a pink enameled piano. the white keys are black and the black keys are pink
the cable snaps and, just as the piano in the song hits that really long note at the end of the "pepper's" album
WHAMMO!
i get crushed before i even know it
SPLAT!
i'm liquid!
on the news that night a guy in an oingo boingo t-shirt says
"well, i didn't really see it happen but it sounded fucking amazing!"
i really want to die this way
i honestly want it to happen
and the fact that it never will will be proof
cold, hard, scientific proof
after my death
that new age people don't have a clue
about what they are talking about
A Prayer
serious?
musta been
aw
twenty five
thirty years ago, right?
i'm in my room
looking at a sheet of thin lined notebook paper
words drawn on it
in purple flair pen
and
i look up
and
i see my face
reflected in a window
and
it dawns on me
i'm a fucking neo-poet?
shit!
like
i don't get to be an astronaut?
keyboard player for alice cooper?
or a major league cocksmith or something?
thanks, God!
i know a couple of guys who are gonna have a big ass talk one of these days..
musta been
aw
twenty five
thirty years ago, right?
i'm in my room
looking at a sheet of thin lined notebook paper
words drawn on it
in purple flair pen
and
i look up
and
i see my face
reflected in a window
and
it dawns on me
i'm a fucking neo-poet?
shit!
like
i don't get to be an astronaut?
keyboard player for alice cooper?
or a major league cocksmith or something?
thanks, God!
i know a couple of guys who are gonna have a big ass talk one of these days..
About The Author
Rock Benjamin Armstrong really, really, really, really, really hates his given name. If you happen to meet him do him a favor and call him "cat".
Thank you.
Thank you.
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