Posts Tagged ‘weird’
55 now. Hugging pavement. Between all the lines. .
Remains of your reflection loitering in my rear-view. My eyes begin to leak with curiosity. A fragile sensation.
Pupils go numb. So stuck on staring at yours. Through yours. The answers caught beneath the irises. Such pretty irises. So perfect. So neat.
Yet who am I to be the judge of that? I suppose I will never know; I cannot see from the inside-out. So I remain silent. Sometimes not being in control is the most beautiful thing in the world.
Mind over matter, fucking with these filthy feelings. But feeling fucks back. .
A witch with a massive, black book of ugly, mean spells. Cast upon unsuspecting souls. 360′s on the spinal cord. A spiral staircase of white.
There is no escape. There is no end.
¡NO TIME! to initiate a thought process.
∞(.I see you.)∞
I suppose I am happy here. I suppose I belong. Bright moments contracting dull.
Life is art and I am the artist. Crouched behind that big wooden easel.
…with so many colors.
So much FrEeDoM.
Mind racing (racing) with opportunity; fingers can’t keep up.
Perspiration via motivation. The cologne of accomplishment.
The paper softens as I progress. Happy mistakes litter the page now.
Along-with-hundreds-of-inches-of-leeway. Ahhh, leeway.
My brain seems…bruised…with numb surprise.
Cleverly disguised in white, I suggest, ‘Perhaps, a different wardrobe?’
Everything just sort of connects/blends/combines.
I’m left to smile at these results.
Today, I cannot STOP smiling.
All this awesomeness is making my face hurt.
=] ♣ [=
Hi. My name is Sam. I carry my vacuum everywhere I go. His name is Beaner. Beaner has these wicked little claws that come out from under him whenever I find one a’ those pesky Snow-Mamas in my yard. Beaner gets the job done right, too. No prisoners, ohhhh no.
Like this one time, a Snow-Mama and her child had made refuge in the east corner of my front yard. I think that damn neighbor kid Henry might have made ‘em. Bastard. Anyways, I fired up ol’ Beaner and dismembered that Snow-Mama.
Her child was awfully cute though, so I had my way with her. Repeatedly. In my yard. In the middle of December. She kept screaming, “Stop! Get away!, but I think that was just because when I switched to doggy-style, she caught a glimpse of her mother’s puddle on the ground. She’ll get over it though. They always do.
Hi my name is Sam. And I rape Snow-Babies.
Shit to do today….
*drink blackberry schnapps and eat cool grass.
*smoke a bowl and drive to the library and steal a purple book.
*search the school with a broken beer bottle at noon, paranoid and drunk, looking for imaginary serial killers.
*hit the hooker trails, red fire extinguishers in one hand, green candy canes in the other.
*pray to Marley and light our weed with stripclub matches.
*train parrots to interrupt school plays with “Ice Ice Baby”.
*snort baking soda and take incriminating pictures.
*crave mac + cheese then cook ten pounds of it.
One foggy Friday night, walking home from my performance with the Rolling Stones (we were in NYC that night), I heard a noise to my left, somewhere beneath the twisted twigs and branches of this old maple tree. It was really dark, and I couldn’t see anything, so using my wicked awesome telekinesis skills, I contortioned the streetlamp (imagine the Pixar lamp) so it would face the maple tree. As I did, Kermit the Frog leaped out at me from behind, a bottle of chloroform in one hand and a balled up handkerchief in the other. He knocked me out cold almost instantly. The last thing I remember was the evil smile on Mrs. Piggy’s wrinkly face, and her snorting violently as she slowly emerged from under that maple tree.
When I finally regained consciousness, I found myself strapped down with miles and miles of bungee cord pinning me to this 500 foot red rocket. Twisting my head around, I managed to catch a glimpse of the name of this gigantic monster that now held my life in its hands…..or bungee cords. “Squatting Turtle”. Great, I thought to myself. Death is going to find my charred remains somewhere up in outer space attached to a red rocket called “Squatting Turtle”. Lovely.
Still very much confused on this whole situation, I tried to make some sense out of it. However, I couldn’t understand why this crazy little frog along with his pig-of-a-sidekick, had buckled himself in right next to me. Seeing the absurd expression on my face, he half-smiled at me and exclaimed out of the side of his mouth, “We’re gonna go visit Mars, my friend!” Before I could ask why in the aych-e-double hockey sticks I was the chosen companion on this insane mission, the rocket’s double piston engines gave an ear-shattering screech and began to slowly propel upward into the darkness.
Highly opposing this whole “space” idea, I yet again used my wicked awesome telekinesis skills to loosen the bungee cords tightened uncomfortably around my wrists, making sure that these 2 lunatics on the sides of me were still glued to this reddish beast. After about 7-8 seconds, I fell from the rocket into an acre of soft cozy cotton trees below. Dusting these cotton balls off the ripped cuffs of my favorite jeans, I glanced up to see Kermit and Mrs. Piggy staring down at me, disappointment and regret lingering on their faces. The only thing I thought to do was wave goodbye. And so I did. Farewell my crazy friends, farewell.
There once was a 502 pound bear named Yogi Bareass. (Everybody called him Bareass for short, cuz he usually waddled around naked. ’Twas all good though cuz his rolls covered everything that needed to be covered.)
One bright morning in December, Yogi woke up from his bed and ran outside because ‘wow’ it was snowing. Once he got outside, he noticed he was nippin’, but this was no ordinary nippin’. Yogi’s nipples (all 4 of them; he had a double nip on each side) had frozen solid and turned white.
Yogi was freaking out and couldn’t stop touching them. So he decided to go visit his old friend Hershey. She was a 2,000 pound cow. Yogi arrived at Hershey’s pasture about 3.5 hours later, even though she lived like 2 houses down. (His thighs were chaffing, so he had to stop to rub lotion on them along the way.) When he told her about his problem, she was like, “I think I can help. Bend down here so I can take a lick. Errr…look.” When Yogi bent over, Hershey licked all his frozen nipples and turned them all back to normal again. Amen.