Thursday, April 30, 2015

GOOPY SUBSTANCES ALL UP IN MY HEAD

Goopy substances all up in head, they drizzle out of my ears and nose and fill the room and slip under the door and out into the kitchen. They start building upwards like the T1000 and form a man. I shout to him, "goopy man, make me some ham and eggs!" He wants to tell me that a please would be nice, but his goopy form does not support speech, so he signals it to me through vibrations sent back through the goop directly into my brain. I am suitably chastened.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

WHEN A WOMAN TOUCHES YOUR LEG IN A TENDER FASHION

When a woman touches your leg in a tender fashion, you can forget that you are in the middle of the jungle, sweaty and covered in leeches and leprosy with a tiger gnawing on your foot. you forget about the vines and the jungle canopy and the long grass and the lagoon and the monkey's fangs. All your focus is on the feeling and your hairs all standing on end like officers of the Russian army, taut and at attention.

Monday, April 27, 2015

TWENTY SIX HOURS OF CONTINUOUS PLEASURE

Twenty six hours of continuous pleasure is surprisingly easy to get through. All that constant kissing and petting and fucking and eating and bathing and kissing and listening and watching and petting and eating and fucking and dessert seems like it might tire you out, and then throw in some talking and reading and feeling too, goodness it's enough to make you want to retire and give this pleasure job over to someone more hardy. But it's really not that bad.

Saturday, April 25, 2015

I PUT ON MY WIGHAT

I put on my wighat and my high heel sneakers and sallied forth into the evening. The air with crisp, with a hint of pine needles, and I felt like I could take over the world, or at least a small tropical island with a restless population and a crumbling dictatorship. I would wear a garland of bananas around my neck and rule with a firm but just hand. Perhaps I would be visited by an Arab prince on a diplomatic mission, and he would seduce me with his eyes and his moustache. And I would say, "I want you to know, Omar, that you are a wonderful lover, but this will not change my feelings on the trade pact."

Friday, April 24, 2015

NOW LISTEN HERE YOU CRUMB BUMS

Now listen here you  crumb bums, I've worked too long and hard building this giant living yacht for you to fuck it up. Just pull your pulleys and levers at the right time and when I say starboard and other nautical terms like that, I expect you to know what they mean, and even if I am using them incorrectly I expect you to deduce the proper meaning and know what needs to be done to sail us around the horn of good cape safely. I'll be up on the bow wearing a cape and blowing a horn and having the horn, don't get too close to me because I may explode. And make sure you eat plenty of vegetables to prevent scurvy.

Thursday, April 23, 2015

CLIMBING A MOUNTAIN IS DIFFICULT

Climbing a mountain is difficult. You need these special spiky boots which aren't really all that hot looking, and it's cold and your ears get cold and there's all these bugs flying into your moth and you see skeletons of other people that died on the way and that's a real bummer. At least I imagine this is the case. I mostly lay on the red couch (it's actually blue but I still call it the red couch because it reminds me of another porch couch that actually was red) and wiggle my toes and listen to the birds and the insects and dream my little dreams. Maybe the mountain climbers would like to to try this some day. But I'm not swapping. They will have to find their own couch.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

WHEN I WAS A RACE CAR DRIVER

When I was a race car driver, I used to keep a pumpkin on the seat next to me. It's heaviness and steadiness and purple orange rich insideness was always a comfort to me. But then it started to speak. It grew a mouth that was always fixed in a cruel grimace, and beady little eyes. It taunted me with all my most intimate doubts and fears. I almost crashed several times punching it and screaming for it to shut up. I sure liked the damn thing better when it was inanimate. But superstition stopped me from simply throwing it out.

Friday, April 17, 2015

LITTLE CHICKENS

Little chickens walk over the place. They are looking for grain but there is no grain. They get angry and start to bok in a harsh, guttaral tone that makes by blood curdle. I can see where this is going and slip out the window quietly. I know I should tell the others, try to warn them to get out, but my instant instinct for self preservation is too high. I put my headphones on and power walk down the street. I don't want to hear those boks and screams, I just don't wanna hear it.

Thursday, April 16, 2015

BLOOD TRANSFUSION

I got in a car wreck and I was laying in the back of the ambulance getting a blood transfusion. And the blood felt real good going into me, sweet life giving blood. What could be better. I was laying back just feeling  it pump into, the waves of pleasure making me breathe heavy. Then I felt something change, the sensation was different. the fluid felt more viscous and tingly. I looked over and it was now chocolate mouse getting pumped straight into my veins. At first this was a little alarming, but it felt so good and sweet and creamy I didn't want it to stop. "Yo, EMT", I hollered, "crush some cookies up into that shit."

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

ACCIDENTALLY WRITTEN IN ALL CAPS

pRANCING THROUGH THE FOREST IN HIS POINTY SHOES AND TIGHTS, BELLS JINGLING ALL THE WAY, THE PRINCE TWIDDLED HIS MOUSTACHE AND DID A LITTLE HOP IN THE AIR, TOUCHING HIS FEET TOGETHER AND REVELING IN THE JOY OF BEING ALONE IN THE FOREST WITHOUT HIS BODYGUARDS, COURTESANS AND WET NURSES. oH, SUCH FREEDOM HE HAD CRAVED FOR THE LONGEST. hE SAW A LARGE GRIZZLY BEAR AND GAVE IT A WINK. "hELLO THERE, mISTER bEAR", HE SAID, AND WENT TO SHAKE IT'S HAND.


Monday, April 13, 2015

I WANT A LASAGNA

JULIE: "I want a lasagna"
RICHIE: "What kind of lasagna you want?"
JULIE: "I want a brang lasagna"
RICHIE: "What is a brang lasgna?"
JULIE: "It's a lasagna that you didn't have to make, somebody just brang it to you"
RICHIE: "I see. Do you want some chinese ribs too?"
JULIE: "What are chinese ribs?"
RICHIE: "You've never heard of chinese ribs? These are chinese ribs!"

Richie proceeds to elbow Julie in the ribs, breaking several.

JULIE: "Damnit, man, that gag only works with Chinese people, You need to make an adjustment and call them Iraqi ribs if you going to do that to me again. But don't do that to me again."

Friday, April 10, 2015

UNDER THE STARS

Under the stars, hanging just under them in a little sling, is a star baby that suckles on the teat of the stars. Each star has a star baby. They are forever twinkling, and it is hard to make out what they really look like, but when they make that googly goo goo noise, you know it is a baby your are dealing with. A star baby. One day these babies will inflate in a hideous fashion to become full blown stars. It will look as if their baby heads are about to explode and you will turn away in horror, but at the last minute everything will expand to its necessary proportions.

Thursday, April 9, 2015

"I CAN DANCE WITH MY DRINK IN MY HAND"

"I can dance with my drink in my hand", she said insouciantly, and continued to do just that. As she twisted and turned in wild abandon, cognac spilled all over my white shag pile rug. As the flames in the fireplace licked out, I could tell this night was going to end in fire and blood and tragedy. Accepting this fate, I sat back in my armchair and lit a cigar and enjoyed this present vision.

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

GOD IS DOING A NEW THING

God is doing a new thing, He's doing a new thing. God is doing a new thing through Jesus Christ. God's using this music and he's coming strong, Michael Clancy yo singing this song, to make you think more about men who are turned inexplicably into piles of bananas. About schoolgirls who are eaten by pianos. About evil white cats with flashing green eyes that cause mischief and mayhem. About decapitated heads that emerge from wells and bite ladies on the buttocks. About loneliness.

Saturday, April 4, 2015

I HAVE BEEN SICK

I have been sick. My apologies for not writing for this last few days. I assume you all went so mad with worry, frustration and boredom that you cracked your heads open with a dessert spoon and scooped the brains right out, shovelling them into your mouth with the last remaining motor faculty you had available, but cruelly unable to taste once they reached your tongue. So there you were, slumped on the breakfast table, spoon and brains hanging out of your mouth, dying an ignoble death, and it's all my fault. And I suppose that now all you readers are dead, this entry is only for my amusement. What shall I write about then? Gobbledegook I suppose. La la la, I was skipping through the grass one day, great purple tentacles emerged from the dirt and rubbed my nipples. It felt awful fancy like and I grinned and showed my fangs. As butterflies fluttered by I bit them, tearing great chunks of wing off and letting it dissolve on my tongue like a communion wafer. Oh my, what an innocent, tender, ineluctable taste it was.

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

ON A BENCH IN THE CITY

On a bench in the city, you can close your eyes and take in all the sounds around you, the rattling trams and the scuffling feet and the conversations nearby and the lethal weapon blues rock guitar solo the young asian hotshot is playing and the birds cooing and cheeping. Or sometimes you can sit on that same bench and kiss a young lady and all those things disappear. You are enveloped in a shroud of black and a cone of silence and all you can feel is the moistness of her lips and the beating of your heart. But the city does not like you to have these moments and will soon send a drunk person to upset your apple-cart, post haste.