Fall 2009: Haw haw, fat ole skunk.

by maddrunkgenius

Aint drunk, sir, jus aimless.
——Ya know yer close when ya hear them shout(ing)s.
A life without alcohol is no life at all. (Sangria)
——I got the taste. All else is excuse.
I love that girl. Oh God yes I do. She got no class and she knows it.
——Such things I’d do to her as they couldnt dare print.
Would like to a hot flat iron to her face an tits, would.
——In a skirt and barefoot, and it does drive me wild tho why I aint quite sure.
Aint we all just waitin to be loved?
——’ “I dont wanna get the flu on my birthday.” That’s what everybody says.’

I wish I were a psychic vampire. Could see all a person’s life, suck it out em. Know em for all they done and been,

——Goddamn this bitch do talk a lot, dont she? Oughta been sucking more dick or drinking more beer and shuttin the fuck up, anyhow. Haw haw.
——Vacuous cunt. I mean, I do believe bleach did sink thru the scalp and scald her brain of all worthwhile activity. Tee hee.

‘I just love West Texas. This is god’s country. Idnit god’s country?’
——Here’s what’s fucked up about it.
But really that’s the way it shoulda been all along.
——Trembing, trembling, quivering cumming.
Suma cum laude, it’s all masturbation, anyhow.
——The train continues to pass, tho L eye is gone.
GODDAMN this bitch wont shut up.
——The fire flared and is glowering again.
Vacuous cunt.
——Maybe I ought slow down. (Wish I had my notebook.)
Grow, grow, grow. Expand and increase.
——There’s still something otherworldly about smoke, especially black smoke on a black night sky.
——So then it’s settled, right?
Scribble, scribble.

The radio pastor’s talk made me quite angry.
——It would be a devastating blow to our godlike complexions.
‘I’m gonna fuck you up, turn you inside out, and do it again.’
——And M played the grundle cord, and rocked hard from the cock.
‘Get back inside!’ (He threw her in.)
——Maybe what we’ve found is there’s nothing to find.
No privacy, no shame, full disclosure, total honesty.
——The line matches the table’s red reflection.
Red is the most poetic color. Maybe the only.
——Is that a flashlight in your pocket or are you just bioluminescent?

I like turning off thinking.

——Why not? Justice League Qumran. Ya, Brave & the Bold. Control Eye Meow sounds neat. Vampire Dark Shadows. Contracted. Waste assault. Poogle grotto, unspeakable corn, pimp & Angels Nose Rose yonder Eyelash to the wheal. Tho.
——Yove. Earlobe. Noninterference. Randy ragtag, doof. God is a dog. But naked. Tame. Raven. Smash and grab, hank and hammer. Liberty defense. Mark. Slight visceral. Ryan. Soul patch. For the love of Christ, be merry. Zoo, yoo hoo. Tank, no it cant get any worse.

Good luck in all yer future endeavors.
——Ah look! A shootin star.
Aw shit. I done left my paper behind.
——The lady with the cat at the bar got the same phone as I. Go figure.
And a dog run in.
Are we obligated to encourage other people to better themselves? I say we’re obligated to maximize joy in the lives of others. That’s our purpose.
Life isnt preventable.
——The first 20 years make one chapter.
Every morning I wake up trying to piece together last night.
——Once it leaves the bounds of yer skull, a secret belongs to the world.
——And so
——I guess
——There’s some appeal
Dog in the lap. Thot at first it was driving.
——Wedding needs a deflowered girl.

Well, I love her. And I want the best for her, tho I cant now see strate. The room spins and I want her happy, still. That’s love aint it? (Quit paying full price.)

There never could be a smarter way for Celts.
——When I drink, it’s my own thoughts. When sober, it’s other people’s.
FUCK! Just endless repetition of images.
——Pilot program, candy school.
Suture the wound to Fenrir.
——What has changed?

——“I want a woman who can put up with me for more than 10 minutes.”
——‘That’s a high bar.’

Dont take the season’s greetings.
——I just want to be happy. Lemme smoke, Lemmy. Lemme be free, please.
Bugs, bugs, bugs. Ceiling, floor, walls.
——We need to join together with love for the common man.
No, we need less unions.

My shoulder is awful sore.
——All structure has broken down.
All sense has departed.
——Love is the only true illusion.

She said she dreams of being murdered; I said I dreamt of murder and hope she had never been killed by me.

I’m adulterous as a dreamer so know my fidelity is only a mask of sobriety (and consciousness).

But some people, only, are good. We rest are pretending as well we can.

Mine, but ours also. (They were lying, morelike.)
——Lament, my city, I lament and wail. Here we are still. My eyes are slimed with crying. Urge and proclaim. Look at me. Tho what can I do?
——Nevermind, rope me to the lariat, and please shave my razor with your face. Just to be quite sure. O tired Franciscan monk. It’s only going to get worse and weirder. But really, long past due. Con me out of my good name.
——It was just like the Bourbons and vodka. I feel real good. Color or green round the collar. Hindu avatar of some wonderful personage. Desire, I want desire. Boobs. Curly. Needy.

They’re having a fatal accident. Wishy washy. Caddie caddo. Sneeze. Brick, perm(anent). Tony or Tom Collins, Henry Rollins, Blefs you. Foghorn. Love your neighbor. Experience all the innocence. Or maybe really you cant, huh? A better day is coming. Snow Cone.

Whoever did anything well the first time?

I didnt enjoy high school, but only being able to live it once, I wish I’d had four years.

I think I wanna. I think I wanna die. I’d die now if I were important (enough).
——Ambiguity compounds meaning.
Multiple realities, one on top another.
——Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Sad, but funny from this here seat.
——Ah! Human magic, witchcraft of pattern.

Bass and drums and all rhythm, makes you skin crawl, make you vibrate down to atoms to the pattern composed in head, played by hands.

I cant stand the sound of live music, but I like the feel.
——It’s good as hell, but empty, unappreciated.
Being a starving artist is fine (aint bad), ‘less you ignored.

Petunias.
——I like everything they do.
Wasted the best (years) on nobody (at all).
——Disappointing turn of events.
Get drunk enough not to care ’bout civility.
——Reconcile myself to mediocrity, eh?
Put more into the body until it’s enough.
——That’s as good a plan as any. I mean, aint it?

What a fucking waste. CHRIST GOD, it was spat out there for nothin, nothin.
——I just love the absurdity of it!
But my affection do blind me so.
——My head swims tho I aint done nothing yet.
The thing is, life’s never absurd, it just is.
——Chicken wing, and other silliness.
Sunshine saber, tho to know is impossible.
——Jesus sure dont care, I mean.
What kind of nite I want tonite?
——It’s all a matter of time till times matter.
Black round the eyes makes her pretty.
——Can treat mine as I damn well please, right?
That was rock and roll.
——Suite the hook on it.
Visions of a better life. An elsewhere being.

Notre Dame or dominus, dominant emperor, caesar and Augustus, feeling felt up but never smelted to whatever shows a lack of ignorance, lack of pleasure, excess masochism, chasm, cataclysmic.

Masochists enjoy life more than the rest of us.

A good poem sings something of life, real or imagined.
——A wise man sees not the same tree as a fool (but the fool’s tree is better).
I aint queer or nuthin, but I kinda wanna see them play gitar nekkid.
——Just a precipitous decline into excuses.
My heart is just gonna explode one these days.
——Lord knows I kint complain! He strike me dead.
Big tits and piss beer.
——Where do the bugs go when I cant see them?
You couldnt come, so I invited God instead.
——Let me get shitfaced, then I’ll be all right, alright?
That lead guitarist is something special.
——The fire doesnt want; it is.
Anything worth doing is worth overdoin.
——Not less, but more of something else.
Drinking semi-constantly.
——The shadow goes where the light wont.
The floor vibrates. I’m in the right place.
——Dreams of infidelity. Thats remind me of them.
The couch pulses (why?)
——’Nobody gets their back touched enough.’
But the candle(s) flicker(s).
——Warm life is detestable.

Well dont overdo it (Less you like things well done).
——Haw haw, the night starts at 10 p.m.
All things in excess.
——Stack of papers yay high.
Sick of gnarly happenings.
——An awful good feeling.
Squiggly little alcoholic. Aw, Jesus.
——I’d be in misery if I were from Missouri.
The bell aint there, but I hear it.
——Unqualified, he is.
I dont need women; I jack off.
——Life, tho brilliant, is often mundane.
My fidelity is a mask of sobriety, and I worry bout it.
——Hear the Word and fear it (or not).

Well, I bet I die of somethin.
——Andre, andrate, anxiety is commonly felt.
Nobody knows yer money better than you.
——Damn, girl.
I dont know what the fuck, so I’ll drink till I dont care what the fuck.
——There aint no natural religion.
What morality will I choose? Better or myself?
——Where’s yer whig at?
You want a shot or what? My anus.
——Nobody ever fuckin does this anymore.
Blood sweat and tears.
——The robot cant answer the question.
I wanna be sober. But if sober, I’d wanna be drunk. Aint what we want; what we aint.
——(Secretly I wish for what I dont want.)
Thirsty for anything. I’m justy thirsty.
——Help me, help me, God! I’m sick and thirsty.

Wishful gunrunner wants to celebrate.
——Guerilla chimpanzee cant be trusted.
No point to experiments when you dont know anything yet.
——The little girl walks by, all in green and crying. I cant help but smile.
Enjoy spending time with someone you enjoy spending time with.
——It was like as if in a dream (Dont scream.)

——Oh my! I’ve fallen out love again. Which says something, about me or my love, I aint sure. I’m moody, jumpy like Nietzsche, mountain top to mountain top of excitement and occasionally crashing into valleys, but really it’s the lack of sex. Nothing can happen so long as we both live as children, which is frust-er-rating. (So’s the mustache.)
——But one year becomes two, two ten. Or rather, it may be the eyebrow is arched.

Come to me softly but swift.