2006-07-27 17:45:28 ET Like some dream you can't wake up from but you know you're dreaming when reason flitters about in a stormy wind and the ground beneath your feet becomes a sea of delirium and you're drowning in the clouds that once held you up high the light mist heavy on your heart holding you down

More to come...

2006-07-27 05:24:53 ET He was an Ethiopian eye-socket whore. Shy, twelve, with velvet eye holes. Black as ebony, blind as a mole, they called him Mayonnaise Face since he got shot in the eye so damned often. And then, about a week ago, when he was getting tagged by some wealthy eastern-bloc businessman, he set off a half kilo of czech semtex that was strapped to the inside of his colon. After that no one called him Mayonnaise Face any more. They called him Boom Butt. You could say he caused quite an uproar. News of the happening caused a bunch of Moroccan peg boys to rise up in armed revolt against their undilated masters. The uprising was soon put down, however, since the peg boys all suffered from the same physical disadvantage - bowleggedness. Post-revolution they were punished with mason jars. This, of course, they turned to their advantage by smuggling untold amounts of Afghan hashish in the ass-laden containers. Money from these operations was funneled into the Great Ass-Fucker Conspiracy which was also behind all the Mexican donkey shows. One of the smuggler peg boys was named Tom Tom and, when he wasn't peddling his "dilated third eye" (as he liked to call it) he would make some extra cash by depositing and withdrawing various forbidden items at various portside ships. He'd just show up, grunt a bit, and offer to sell you his slightly soiled goods. Drugs weren't his only thing. He also dealt in various batteries. He says they got him "charged up". One time he even smuggled a living fetus for some girl with ovary depletion. It went straight from his ass to her uterus. That shows you the power of properly applied pressure and Vaseline. 2 comments

Shit.

2006-07-24 20:34:59 ET So Fina broke up with me. Fuck. I love her, much more than a friend, but... if she's happy I'm happy. I hope. 2 comments

Bears

2006-07-23 13:12:55 ET http://www.zoofur.com/bears.html

Crap?

2006-07-17 21:05:28 ET Is this any good? I haven't written in so damn long and I need the practice. It's too late for me to say if it's utter shit though. *** He found that if he tweaked the vertical on the television a certain way everything seemed a little different. I mean, hey, it looked the same but as you sat there, lifeless, absorbing the information you started to realize that there was a subplot to every story no matter how dull and it permeated everything even the test signals and spanned whole groups of channels and dead air. You could tune into the static and then switch to some run of the mill soap opera re run and then bounce over to the indian head switch it over to the horse races and it's still the same story. He tried to explain it to friends but he could never seem to explain the tale to them. It was too deep and convoluted and so goddamn addicting and he couldn't stop watching it. And they'd listen to him at the bar over a drink as he waived his hands manicly and wild trying to espouse the new breed of philosophy or whatever it was he thought the story was about. And he kept trying to get them to watch but they just didn't get it. It's not like they haven't tried. But they'd get home and start hopping around the dial like some meth addled rabbit and it'd have no effect on them. Obviously. He didn't realize what had happened at first and that's why it took so long for them to finally catch on. When it hit him he finally took a break from his program and came over to Bill's house to mess with the knobs in the back. He shifted the vertical and there it was. Engrossed by the program they sat there drooling boobs watching the boob tube and every so often they'd jump the channel to "tail the tale" or so they called it. And so it spread, one by one, until the whole town was watching it. No one really did anything anymore. They'd just site in front of the gooey green glow and stare into the faux internal space that seemed infinite and yet paradoxically enclosed by the cube foot of television space. Soon they became so merged into it that they started to degrade. First it was the usual social things, common routines pre programmed and followed from right after birth till right before death. Those things people tell you to do and you do them. Outside things. Then it came for the biological functions and the next thing you knew they were sprawled on the floor watching the story their stomachs digesting themselves. *** I don't think it's finished. I may be wrong. 2 comments

2006-06-23 04:55:10 ET Oh, Klaus! Salad me! Salad me! Yes! OH MEIN GOTT ZE FREIGHT TRAIN IS TUNNELING OUT OF MY BOWELS!!!

2006-06-23 04:52:25 ET It's time for your exam, Gretchen. Get on the table. Why, the scheisse table of course, you silly girl! Why, no I haven't thought about using vegetables. No, I... what is "eggplant"?

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