One day, a man on an island looked up at the stars and noticed one of them was laughing at him. "What's your problem?" the man asked. The star replied, "You're talking to me yesterday."
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a coffee cup
a bowl with some dried up old rice paint, red and green a big graffiti canvas that says, "yard sale - free abortions" receipts and bills all crunched into balls lysol, jergens natural glow tan lotion get color on your skin--no sunlight required dvds: unrated caligula, south park, every movie by werner herzog, lots of pictures from the 80s back in the 40s they called movies 'pictures' now movies are thieves sleeping cat on the dirty futon a carpet made of stains, dirt, and puke picture on the wall of a friend who is still alive but pretty much dead boxes and bags of memories lonely, hungry and scared peeling walls full of edible lead potato chips an air-conditioner running 24-hours a day that cools nothing but its own coils curtains from the dollar store unnatural colors hinting of halloween christmas lights, holes in the walls, the roaches don't even come in here three locks on the door with a man-sized opening I kicked out of it when I accidentally locked the keys inside and me, shirtless in my designer lobster shorts purchased on credit for which I have no money nor inclination to pay i'd jerk off, but what would be the point? i have always thought
the way to go was all in the half-way people just get in the way half-way, by the way and you have to kick those fuckers out of your way, all the way when you run out of gas push a little further when you get too drunk to drink, just have one more besides, gas is more expensive that fun ever was an empty tank means something a half-way tank will never understand half-way never mattered one way or the other and fun is more expensive than one more beer ever was they were camping
no! you stupid girl don't go off on your own crap, she's dead jenny is going to look for her i'll go with you no brad, you stay here and keep an eye out i have a knife, don't worry brad waits. no, you stupid dude! oh shit. he's stabbed and beheaded jenny goes into the darkness no jenny, he's right there in the rafters she finds the first girl mutilated the monster pops out she screams we scream ahhhh, shit! she drops the knife. he's right behind you oh shit, she tripped she's up again, the monster is gaining on her she just makes it to the car killer's beating on it with his fists her hand shakes she can't get the key in oh, thank god, she's got it in shit! car won't start. can you believe it? oh my god! killer jammed his claw through the roof she's screaming we're screaming killer's screaming car starts! thank the Christ, the car starts! she guns it killer goes flying off the back or so we thought oh shit! he's there in the back seat. how'd he do that? ahhhh! long story short she survives and the killer is completely dead oh shit! killer is alive again he grabs her and screams we scream she screams she dies. same thing happens in Camp Monster from Hell II, III, IV, V, VI, and the reboot franchise, Camp Monster 3D I, II, III, IV, after V, it started to feel gimmicky... when you're writin a poem
you can't just write stuff you gotta' do some metaphor you gotta' say stuff is like other stuff like you gotta' say this poem is like a turd or this poem turds... you know, somethin poetic otherwise, you're just writin stuff and writin stuff ain't no poem it's just you bein a dick i have 2000 friends on facebook
i started a fund-raising campaign to pay last month's rent because the economy has tanked and on top of that i am a terrible manager of money being a full-time college student on the dean's list with a full ride scholarship and a 3.9 grade point average a job as a bartender, and a member of a successful and popular local band, as well as an artist, poet, writer, and host of a legendary show is not enough to make my meager ends meet so far, it has been two weeks--i have managed to raise nothing, zero, nada of 2000 friends, one promised to send money and did not do so, one brought me a six-pack of Guinness, soup, and $40, and one graciously donated a bag of potatoes (they are delicious). so i have decided to spend money i don't have from a new credit card which recently arrived (they give you credit when you are poor), to buy a steak and lobster dinner and a really fucking expensive glass of wine at the best restaurant in town. that's my plan. it's a good plan. i will chew this all up using 2000 bites on the tooth where the filling just fell out of what was originally going to be a successful root canal and crown only kings have enough money for a crown and then i will drink a boat load of rum and come home to sit with my cat in the remaining days before the electricity goes off and the eviction letter arrives and i will watch cartoons, or maybe the unrated version of Caligula or something from the 80s and think about how nice it might have been to be a better person than the shit-heel i turned out to be. I could have worked in a bank and raised children and gone to the Bahamas on a ship and had steak and lobster there on my corporate vacation money before I died, instead of committing every last ounce of my worth to pretend to be that guy just for a day because it made me feel as if i had something to offer. interestingly enough, $2000 dollars is all that's required to save my ass for two more months until the checks arrive for next semester and I can suck-up on the money the gubment stole from everyone to fund my career. that's a dollar a friend. a dollar a friend. a dollar a friend. looking back, this bit isn't even poetic. it's just the ramblings of a half-hearted ideologue, which means: one given half-way to fanciful ideas. if only the reality were half as fanciful as my ideas, i could have been somebody. i could have been a contender instead of a bum, which is what i am. every day
when i awaken i see nothing but festering maggots the light is green why aren't the cars going green means go fucking maggots everywhere 'hey man, can i ask you a question?' get to the point, asshole, you want money! don't give me the story, man everybody has the same story one day, a man will just take what he wants i'd prefer it straight like that not maggoty. not maggot-like. for god's sake, stand up and be somebody don't be a maggot i am forever in line behind maggots a festering line that does not move lines are supposed to move, not stand there fucking maggots everywhere 'do you have twenty-three cents?' no maggot, i have only dollar bills sorry to disappoint you, maggot 'i am mute. do you have a cigarette? give me a cigarette because i am mute.' you're not mute, I hear you talking you're speaking maggot everything is rotting from teeth to skin and then there is gravity we are, all of us, going down into the dirt of the Earth and an old tale is told of a soul that will float off to the land of milk and honey or the kingdom of fire maggots wrote that story the truth is this: you go out of hell and out of the land of milk and honey to maggot land! that's where you go! you go straight to maggot land! the light is green the cars do not move, nor do the lines and a man approaches he beats your skull in with a brick and takes from you twenty-three cents and a cigarette he festers away to a garbage can house you call after him, 'thank you. finally. thank you." he does not reply because he is mute. he was having a wet dream
about a sexy woman about to bend over when he rolled out of bed fracturing his boner he crawled to the phone and pulled it off the counter onto his head along with a lamp his wife found him unconscious there and drove him to the hospital wrecking on the way with a boy on a bike the ambulance took everyone and in surgery to repair the damage both the boy died and the penis was severed one was the result of an epileptic seizure when the nurse brought the wrong medication he was having a wet dream about a sexy woman riding sidesaddle on his face the stitches popped hypersensitivity, angioedema, allergic rhinitis he has brain damage now and has forgotten everything except for everything that went wrong and also that his wife was praying for God to forgive them for everything else "I'm looking at an apple."
"No you're not, I say. You're looking at a pear." "An apple, says I." "Support your claim with evidence." "Okay, you fuckin' maggot. We agree that both an apple and a pear are a plant ovary?" "No sir, we do not agree. Are we talking fruit here?" "It's a plant ovary, you cock-sucking wretched fat farting skunk-ape." "You already lost, dickhead. If it's an ovary, how's it going to be a pear? Or an apple for that matter?" "One thing is another, you Jew bastard." "I'm not Jewish. If I was, wouldn't I be black?" "I can't talk to you anymore." "Fine. I'm going to eat it anyway." "Go right ahead. You know what happened in the Bible. Chomp on it, bitch, see where it gets ya!" "That was a FIG! Not an APPLE you dumb retard!" back when soap
was made from people we all wondered what exactly 'clean' was nowadays soap is made by treating fats with an alkaline solution to achieve sopanification some of this may simply be the lies of propaganda nothing ever really gets clean |
Tom MillerRamblings of a Half-Hearted Ideologue Archives
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