at night sometimes late into the morning I cruise the internet and read biographies of yahoo members in their interest groups the thing that strikes me most is the huge numbers of people who’s ads are men pretending to be women to get women to chat with them having clandestine sex and typing one handed only tend
I’m a little creepy at least as I understand the word I’m a watcher a looker voyeur la sociologica but I don’t care if you know I cruise the internet like some guy walking the back allies and catching glimpses of this and that some guy with his garage door open and a sand burner on blocks now and
i get dry sometimes like my insides have shriveled up and turned to ash and dust I think it’s a telling on my soul what hasn’t been traded off for one indulgence after another I offend many as a harbinger of the mundanely obvious of our collective trade offs pieces here and there shreds of rightness left r
I’m not a prophet or a seer of futures I cannot claim an inner vision deeper than my faith in God a power He is and beyond the magical of tarots and witchery his book, his word, his being incarnate and as mysterious as any oracle of Delphi or reader of palms or signs in the stars but there is no need of divining wit
i am not the man you bring home to mother if she’s any kind of woman she’ll know at first sight she’ll know I’m not a dependable man closer to incarceration than any where else if she can get you to the side she’ll whisper “turn back, before it’s too late.” before I show you things and teach you things tha
I’m sick of it all the excuse all the reasons all the fucking bullshit all the god damned bullshit little African babies flies freely crawling in and around mouth eyes and any hole left moist eyes a hundred years old in the body of a 2 year old you’d shit if that were your little American child f
sally is on a rampage in her head hamster wheel thinking driving the point home iteration after iteration it’s the talking inside that freaks her every turn is an affirmation of every accusation from the mouth of every dirty thought she works in an office efficient and in love with the thought of dange
phillip a nappy headed Puerto Rican with a tribe of dobbies with silver tipped fangs kept weapons of insanity under the couch short-barrels, m-16’s, .45’s, and bandoleers of ammo there was a mortar launcher in the closet and 2 disposable rpg’s phillip kept everyone fit for the runs he prayed everyday and co
dude--blogging is whatever you want it to be. As for people flaming you--fuck 'em if they can't take a joke. Life is too short to let others piss on your day. Keep writing and say what you will. Besides, like you said, it's evolving. Norms and mores will establish itself as we all add our collective voices to the form. Dude, you're a pioneer, buck up. J.
I mean well, really I do, but I get a little strange in crowds of one or two but I’m always ready to lend a hand my friend the programmer looks the part plays the part walks the part but wants to have freakazoid sex and be a dancing queen one night stands are fine as long as they’re gone by morning
mom said hit first hit hard and don’t stop swinging till your arms hurt then start kicking when my older niece teased me and called me a sissy at 10 I took out her front teeth I got the strap from mom and a slap from my sister, but that little bitch never fucked with me again at 13 we moved into the project
I don’t know what it is but I always find the strange ones freaks that talk about jesus and rocks for healing or she’ll be a priestess from another life or two ago one of them a Ph.D. doing cancer research when we fucked--shit everywhere when she came, then pissed on my dick before I got it out she wa
I’m not a law abiding man I have no wish to pretend that I am otherwise and I will not act as if the rules make sense and money isn’t the cause I pity cops, no--really I do to sell out to your hopes that the system is right and worth dying for only to find it’s just a job after 10 years and all they have done i
I’m no good just ask any of the women that thought living with me would bring out my domestic side I haven’t got a clue what that means in college I paneled a wall steve drove thru one night using the the big 4x12 in the garage as a break she said she wouldn’t live in a frat house. but she knew we partied hard<B
larry lives on the third floor he’s a 4 year vet from 66’ to 70’ he’s on the benches in the evening smokes a pipe and enjoys the company of all the ladies he has regulars and sitting right or left of him is a prize the over 60 crowd of women hold in high esteem he carries himself like common sense the army gave
there have been times when I was little when finding food and eating was a long walk with creative thinking when I was 10 steve white told me they had to throw the food out at the end of the night shit, for a while I ate steaks half eaten soggy French fries, garlic toast and onion rings almost every night
there’s no monuments for the wars we’ve fought there’s no holiday to celebrate the blood left pooling in the grass when doghead put six into that crips head there was theater and crying and demands a whiteboy killing a black thug filled the pages for weeks no one petitioned for a memorial when glenn fought the g
hey bloody dick you twisted fuck did I ever tell you about sylvia she was special long tall brutal she walked to kill one foot at a time she cut johnny, had him bleeding with a smile took him home and left licking the blade the night Lloyd flew across the bar and beat some slacker silly
G. it's always good to know random acts of sabotage are appreciated. Wrong on the labor day. Here's the perscription. BBQ on the light side with all the fix'n. cold drinks till noon then those mint julips for a while followed by a bon fire and sipping whiskey. No laboring...
you don’t remember me that’s probably a good thing I’ve often wondered what it was like when you laid down to sleep next to your wife is it hard to rest, does she know what you did? way back then when you’d draw science- fiction monsters and gift them to little boys so you could suck their little dicks at churc
in my dreams and it happens a lot lately she’s still the one the mother of my children the one who’s smile is like the innocent joy of a 1000 kids delighted with the wonder of sprinklers and puppy dogs in my dreams she still rubs my feet and fills me in on the politics of the office she’d listen to the
at least you know enough to know what her comments mean. But you would have known soon enough. We always do. J.
no doubt, my friend. she's a bitch. J.
what’s it like being you growing up in mexico out in a forgotten valley scraped and cooked and made hard in the tropical sun so brown and willing when it was decided to cross the river and make your way to Chicago were you lonely what is it like to be swallowed in little condom covered balls waiting to be shit
Sorry G., I was taking time to pay the bills. or trying to figure out how to ignore them. I'm honored that you'd like to watch the fallout of a reading. I always like it best if I read after an especially flowery piece. If you'll forgive the shameless self promotion, any time you want to copy a bunch of my work and leave it lying around or pass it around at such a function as a starbucks pre-manufactured get together, knock yourself out. I was th
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