you used to need a computer to be online and you had to know how to read and write. not anymore. all you need now is a phone that costs a million dollars and disposable net slang, gifs, and memes. it also used to be very funny online. and mysterious. and a little scary. we would meet in chatrooms and share ideas and information. now we share what is mainly stick figure drawings of people eating boogers on the playground. we call people names and write LOL after our own 'jokes'. i think there should be a phone level net. a net just for children and people who say things like 'y'all' and 'die on that hill' just because EVERYBODY does NOW and will say something else once those things aren't 'epic' anymore. i miss true communication.
Cat A. Waller's Pile Of Written Stuff
Wanna read some of my stuff? Well, here ya go!
Friday, May 17, 2024
Sunday, September 3, 2023
Be There Then
a guy sees the buddha walking on the road.
Thursday, March 3, 2022
timewuz...
there was a time where people would write songs and paint and stuff. now they whip out their phone, change their icon, and forward a meme or a gif. it's pretty sad really. and soulless too.
Sunday, February 6, 2022
zounds!
when i was a kid i never dreamed that i would have my own computer, that would be connected to the entire world, and that with a thing called twitter i could wish mamie van doren a happy birthday. just too cool.
Friday, December 10, 2021
btw
i'm getting my booster shot on the 22nd
why?
because
a lot of people are fucking stupid
and
i refuse to kill
or
be killed
merry fucking christmas!
Thursday, December 2, 2021
hi!
if you stop saying "y"all" when it's not super groovy anymore you're an an asshole now. strange, ain't it?
Monday, November 29, 2021
Saturday, November 27, 2021
SHEESH!
i tend to give up first in an argument.
it's really funny when stupid people think they have proven me wrong by screaming at me like an eight year old bully on a playground. like they have 'shown me a thing or two' and now my mind has been changed. they have no idea that all they have really shown me is that they are anal and insane. i'm talking to you, asshole on line who 'threatened' to block me on twitter. smoke my white owl, cha cha!
Sunday, November 7, 2021
technology
Saturday, July 24, 2021
ya know...
i think being funny is a lot like playing a piano.
most people just aren't very good at it.
Sunday, July 18, 2021
GEEZUZ!
ever tried to make a twitch password? well, if k1ssm1d1ck isn't good enough for them i'm not cool enough and they can go get totally fucking fucked.
Wednesday, June 30, 2021
well...
i grew up in a stupid world
with stupid people
they weren't dumb
they were stupid
they never asked questions
they had no vision
they did things just because they did things
i'd ask why they couldn't take the butter out when they first got up
that way it would spread easier when the toast was ready
i asked why things that we used every day were kept under things that were used once or twice a month
why we couldn't try it with cheese just this time
why do you vote for people that you ended up calling jerks six months later
why i couldn't finish the page i was reading first
it's not like the garbage men would leave the trash on the curb the next morning because of my book
i got sent to my room a lot
a lot
now i still ask questions
sometimes i scream them
and stupid people look at me like i should have stayed in my room
i actually know a couple of people who think that i'd be happy if i just told myself i already was
as if delusion trumped truth
lots of people think that way because it works for them
so they think it will work for everybody else
i guess it could work
maybe
if i'd stop asking so many goddamn questions
Saturday, August 29, 2020
Lu
why would god cast lucifer out? i mean, being a loving and understanding god wouldn't he be really cool about the whole thing?
Durward
i haven't heard someone call somebody a 'durward kirby lookin' motherfucker' in a real long time.
Memes
next time on 'i'm not very funny so here's a meme i stole from someone and didn't give them credit because people didn't pay enough attention to me when i was younger and now i need the endorphins on a daily basis so i can feel like i have worth':
Party
when all this is over i can't imagine someone going to a party, stating that they work for the electoral college, and not being savagely beaten with a floor lamp and chucked through a plate glass window. it's the romantic in me.
Cops
you know, if a lot less people had lied to cops in the past there wouldn't be as many problems. just my opinion here...
Dogs
you shouldn't use fireworks once a year because it may or may not bother pets. your car alarm though? hey! nobody ever brought that up before and you've never thought about it so feel free to wake people up or ruin someone's orgasm or just be a basic pain in the ass any time you want. and if dogs happen to bark loud and a lot because of you, fuck 'em.
Cup
i'm thinking that waking up to folgers in your cup wouldn't suck or anything but wouldn't going back to sleep be even better?
Johnson (or not, really)
Dakota Johnson's bisexual? i'm gonna stick my neck out and say that if it were any of my business it would be pretty cool.
Wonder
i always wondered what happened to her. well, okay, maybe not always. sometimes i'd wonder what i wanted on my pizza or how come danny elfman hasn't got an oscar or what happened to that pen that i put down 30 seconds ago, but i'm pretty sure you know what i mean.
Funk
wait a minute!
Rumble
what's the deal with the richter scale? why don't they rate that shit from one to ten so dumb fucks like me can understand it all?
Remember
if you don't vote in november you won't have anything to post pointless memes about when the electoral college picks the next president.
Boom!
if i was walking away from a building that i knew was going to explode i'd turn around. why? so i could see a building explode! i mean, c'mon!
Wednesday, October 17, 2018
Camp
i went to a summer camp
one morning
we were woke up for breakfast
there was a shitload of flashing lights across the lake
i blew off breakfast
and
walked over to see what was going on
what did i see?
i saw a dead guy
he was hanging off the back of a crane on a truck
he drowned
he was
actually blue
actually bloated
and
actually dead
who was that guy?
what did he believe?
who did he vote for?
and
why?
at that moment
the moment that i saw that
seeing that blue, bloated, dead guy
it hit me like a brick
i became aware of the fact that
at some point we will all fucking die
don't matter what what you believe
don't matter who you vote for
don't matter what you wear
or
what you own
nothing really means anything
at some point?
we will all fucking die
and
so
i've been waiting
passively
not hoping
not wishing for it
but
aware
that
at some point
i will die too
and
that
he who dies with the most toys
is a total fucking asshole...
Friday, March 30, 2018
Sunday, March 4, 2018
Bobsled
and
i'll say it again
i think the coolest guy you can be in the winter olympics would be the third guy on a four man bobsled team
really
what do you have to do?
eat a lot
drink a lot
hold on tight
and
hope you don't barf your guts out?
i dunno about you
but
i pretty much do that every day...
Friday, March 2, 2018
The Monster
Darkness cracked by lightning
The kites are flying
The switches have been thrown
The monster awakes
“Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnggggggggghhhhhhhhh!”
He growls
And
Smiles a crooked smile
“Me have story to tell."
He looks into a mirror
To straighten his tie
The mirror shatters
Raining tiny pieces to the floor
“Huuummm...”
He thinks
“Gonna be one of those lives?
me need drink...”
He laughs
Slaps the doctor
His creator
On the back
(a little too hard}
The doctor stumbles forward
And
Falls from a window
To his death
The monster shrugs his shoulders
And
Sets off toward town.
A Pause That Refreshes
'doc! the wife's on my ass, i can't make the car payment, and i'm stressed like son of a bitch. what should i do?'
'hmmmmmm... take two of these and go to vegas.'
come Monday morning the dude shows up at work and says, 'i dunno about you clowns but my weekend was fucking amazing! is that the time? shit! i gotta pile of work i gotta get done! see you guys at lunch!'
they could call it fukitall
have the pills pink
shaped like little tits or something
ax for it by name!
Monday, 4:32 AM
nothing on but the refrigerator light
scanning the contents for a snack
or two
the cat meowed and i bent to scratch her head
back pain set in
yet again
that good old throb in the lower portion of my spine
hurts like a mo-fo, gang
i don't even like to talk about it very often
but
i was thinking about how it's worth it
how i was trading a cat-touch for a body ache
how most of us wouldn't bother
how afraid we are of pain
danger
taking a chance
going out on a limb
how childhood can really create some lame ass people
what a great world it could be if we could learn to...
and then i thought
WOW!
a cold hot dog dipped in leftover chili!
The First Animated Church (of everything) or F.A.C.(e.)
It's my opinion that every holy book or idea can be summed up in two simple words: "Be Cool" (think about it). As this is the case I don't really feel that anyone needs to know anything else. All one has to do is remember to "Be Cool". This is the be all and end all of "The Church".
2)
There are no dues to pay, no humans that you have to persecute, and I am not a boss or leader. I'm just the asshole who thought of this one night while rather stoned. There is also nothing else that you have to read or study, what is in your eyes right now is all you need. You also only have to be as cool as you are capable of. Just do what you can. That is all anyone CAN do, right?
3)
The abbreviation of the church's title is pronounced "fay-saw", extremely bad French for the word "face".
4)
Seeing as to how every church should have a logo here's the one I came up with: the two words "Be Cool". It should be on a T-shirt, printed upside down. So that, if you are in a tense or volatile situation and you find yourself confused, all you have to do is look down and read your shirt. To my mind the letters should be in a simple white font on a black shirt but you are free to use whatever style or colors you'd like.
5)
Making fun of somebody else's shirt is fucked up and, therefore "Not Cool" (maybe they don't have a lot of money). If someone copyrights this idea and sells shirts for profit they are fucked up and "Not Cool".
6)
If you'd rather you could wear a button that says "Be Cool" upside down and refer to that. Profits made on these would be pretty fucked up as well.
7)
Then again... you don't really have to do anything.
8)
Or give a flying fuck about what you have just read.
9)
Do whatever you think is cool. Just as long as it is really what is in your heart.
10)
That's all there is to it.
Room
And I'm bored
And lonely
I feel unloved part of the time
Not always
But from time to time
It beats me down
And I drink so I don't think
It's kind of like lighting a match in the dark
But I go too far
From time to time
And the match burns my finger
And I curse the darkness
And I howl at the moon
It don't mean nothing
It's just the venting "wherewolf"
Raising his stupid head
The id punching the super ego
With a silver fist
I'm a genius
I'm an artiste
And I'm insane
I'm not violent
I mean no harm
I'm just a pain in the ass
I'm nothing to fear
But
From time to time
I am something to ignore
Monday, February 26, 2018
Late Night Olympics
and suck up television while the rest of the world sleeps, right?
This being the case I have been lucky enough to catch some of the
more obscure Olympic games. The ones that you guys missed
because of your sleep patterns. Being the nice guy that I am I kind
of feel it's my duty to fill you in on the winners of these games.
Knocking Richard Simmons off of a bar stool with a tennis ball
serving machine was won by the USA. No biggie here. It was a
lock.
Standing around quietly while waiting for the phone to ring went to
Canada. No big surprise here either. They kill at this. They do it
every goddamn day.
Six man luge on an upturned coffee table was won by the French.
Nobody really knows why. I'm thinking it might have been the
wine.
Turning into a bat and feeding off of the townspeople was a gold
for Rumania. Geeze! They win that every year! Like we had a
chance!
Limbo for fat guys was nabbed by Japan. For some reason the
limbo has become a huge thing over there. I don't know. I guess
they just love old American pop culture or whatever.
I hope this has caught all of you up and we can get back into
watching "Saturday Night Live".
Saturday, February 24, 2018
Night Calls (a dark one)
And I'm walking
Drunk on moonlight
And hunger
I see you up the street
And I move
Closer
Closer
And closer still
Until I touch you
Scant moments pass
And you go from warm to cold
So I seat you at the bus stop
And glide away
Into the black
My hunger is gone
Until tomorrow
When again I'll rise
And search the dark
For another
Just like you
Any Day Now
Drinks
how about some calm the hell down drinks?
i wouldn't mind having a couple of cases of that stuff on hand at all tines.
Bus
all kinds of people running this way and that
they often tell me, "hey! be one of us people!"
i'm not a people i'm a fat cartoon cat
i sit on couches and i see, on my tv
all kinds of people screaming this stuff and that
i often hear them screaming, "buy this, you people!"
i don't have credit so to me it's chit chat
who do you when
what you did way back then?
and
why should you cry
when you maybe soon die?
and
where do you look
if it's by hook or crook?
and
try first then buy
cuz it might be a lie
i sit on benches and i see, passing by me
all kinds of people looking this way and that
i see them looking, they say, "wow! check out that thing!"
"it's bright and shiny and it beats what i have!"
who do you when
what you did way back then?
and
why should you cry
when you maybe soon die?
and
where do you look
if it's by hook or crook?
and
try first then buy
cuz it might be a lie
who do you when
what you did way back then?
and
why should you cry
when you maybe soon die?
and
where do you look
if it's by hook or crook?
and
try first then buy
cuz it might be a lie
Seeing Orange
The age old question.
Is the glass half-empty?
Or is the glass half full?
We all want to know the answer, we all want to know.
We all have opinions but we can’t be sure.
Me?
What do I think?
I think the glass is half-empty.
I also think that if you look around you just might find a faucet. And there may be some ice in the freezer. Look in the refrigerator. Is that a bottle of 7-up? And over there, on the shelf, I think I see a bottle of bourbon! Wow! There’s a bag of Doritos on the table and somebody has left out a bowl of salsa!
Too cool!
I love this place!
Where’s the stereo?
Yep!
That’s what I think.
That’s me.
I’ve got a jaundiced eye and I’m looking through rose colored glasses.
I’m seeing everything in orange.
Scene From An Unwritten Movie
Oh!
i UNDERSTAND now!
we were born to buy shiny shit that we don't really need in order to impress people that wouldn't be impressed with us if we didn't own shiny shit that we don't really need.
and all these years i've been busy trying to learn about art so i can express myself better?
whatta doof!
Liquid
It flows aside me, watching
Flows inside me, talking
My eyes are aglow with heart's desire
Birds sing both opera and doo-wop all at once
Blues and greens collide and dance along
Flowers whisper my name as a chorus
Love rains down, taking the solo
Soaking us all with the music
Its wet resolve hums the backbeat
The sky looks down
And smiles it's kindly smile
It's yet another beautiful day
And we are the children and the owners
Of the earthly homeland that swings
Beneath our feet.
Man!
Sometimes these acid flashbacks are fun!
Wednesday, February 21, 2018
Neo-Poetry
Also because I seem to be doing things with words that I don't see anybody else doing. I'm not writing about how pretty trees are, how beautiful her limpid pools were, or how my love is like a red, red rose. None of that stuff has any real meaning or point of view. I'd rather express ideas. And maybe make you laugh while you think about those ideas.
Besides:
If you don't know how great love or beauty is by the time you're twenty or thirty then you're a moron and there's not a whole lot my writing is going to help you with.
I'll tell you what, if you need to be reminded how great love is here's a little gift for you:
LOVE IS GREAT!!!
Feel free to look at it anytime you'd like.
And.
Now that we have that one out of the way you are free to think about other things.
Fake Gary Numan Lyrics
I watched you put your eyes on
I thought I felt my heart enlarge
You walked out and it shattered
Excuse me while I turn me off
Your airplane flies the friendly skies
Unaware that I am fading
It lands and you move somewhere else
With new sights through your window
Excuse me while I turn me off
(spoken)
"The traffic rolls by
slowing to a stop
and I'm reflected in chrome and glass
and I can't see my face
it was stolen by you
and when i call you the line is dead"
You're running with the roaring crowd
I'm quietly meowing
The dream falls and some parts are lost
I can't find the instructions
Excuse me while i turn me off...
The Jar
And it's huge.
Smudged a bit.
Really old.
The lid is rusted.
It has holes poked in it.
There are fireflies inside.
Glowing warmly with their inner light.
Some of the fireflies bang against the glass,.
Others wait calmly.
They are all beautiful in their own separate ways.
The ones on the outside tell stories of what they have seen.
Of big skies and clean air.
The fireflies inside the jar can't hear them.
Not unless they fly near the holes in the lid and listen real hard.
Away from the constant droning buzz of the other fireflies.
Kitties
Kitties at the wheel
Kitties at the bus stop
Kitties always feel...
Sad when they are hungry
Happy when they're full
Glad when playing checkers
Sappy when they pull...
The switch that causes teardrops
A mistake while on ice
It melts and causes kerplops
And they don't swin so nice...
So close your eyes for dream time
A pillow for your head
I've run clean out of cat rhymes
Make up your own instead
Lime Green Time Machine
(No big surprise there)
Dark clouds
Rain
It was just like in the movies
Newmar stood in the back
Taking hits off of a pint of Jim Beam
Mixing tears with pain
A poem, a quote, a mound of earth
And his Uncle Pete was buried
Newmar sighed
As his mind wandered back
It was the fourth of July
A bar-b-que with his family
He was playing in the dirt
With toy tanks and plastic dinosaurs
When he suddenly felt a weird vibe
He caught a feeling of something very bad
And very hot
He jumped up and tackled Uncle Pete
Knocking him down and safely away
Just before the grill exploded
In a huge fireball
For no reason at all
He had saved his uncle's life
"You've given me time", Uncle Pete had said
"Someday I'll do the same for you"
After the funeral he went home
To a big yellow house
That his uncle had left him in his will
He stood in the living room
And looked at Uncle Pete's stuff
Books, photos, and the like
Mere objects that were all that was left of his Uncle Pete's life
It made him feel empty
For Uncle Pete was also a trusted friend
Then
One night
Drunk on white wine and memories
Newmar found himself in the basement holding a cardboard box
A post-it note on it said:
"You gave me time
Now I've done the same for you"
It was signed by Uncle Pete
Inside the box were a couple of thousand
Styrofoam pellets
A strange looking lime green belt
And a small blue notebook
He took the belt and book upstairs
Sat down in a chair in the living room
And
An hour later was the owner of his very own time machine
That Uncle Pete had built from scratch
And even though Newmar was amazed
He still felt empty inside
Newmar examined the belt
There were knobs and buttons on it
And some small lights
On a panel on the front
It didn't look real
It looked like something out of Flash Gordon
All at once there was a flash of light
And a popping sound
Air being shoved out of the way
Standing next to Newmar
There was another Newmar
Exactly like himself
But he wasn't holding the belt
He was wearing it
"Hi!"
He said
"I'm from the future. Why don't you give it a try?"
Newmar put the belt on
Set it for a minute in the past
And pushed a button
There was a popping sound
Air being pushed out of the way
Newmar was looking at himself
Holding the belt
"Hi!"
He said
"I'm from the future. Why don't you give it a try?"
He watched himself put the belt on
And then set it for a minute in the past
And push a button
A flash
And a pop
And he was alone again
He went upstairs
Got very drunk
And thought about things
In the weeks that followed he saw
Martin and Lewis live
David Bowie in 1972
Blondie
Marilyn Monroe arriving at various movie premieres
The Marx Brothers on tour
His parent's wedding
His own birth
And so on...
(he resisted the urge to visit Uncle Pete
he just wasn't ready for that)
He had fun
And learned a lot
But
He still felt empty
See...
Newmar needed a purpose
A mission in life
A reason to live
He needed to feel full
One day
While visiting the fifties
He took in a movie
And before it was over
He knew what he had to do
So he returned to his own time
And went to a coin shop
And bought all of the fifties money he could
And went to the fifties
And bought comic books
And returned to his own time
And sold them
And bought fifties money
And went back
And bought more comic books
And returned
And sold them
And bought fifties money
And went back
Over and over again
When he was rich
He went around town and bought even older money
And packed a bag
And bid his house goodbye
Standing on the pier
In Santa Monica
He threw the belt into the ocean
Thankfully
It sank
Then he hailed a cab
There are no questions
That money can't answer
So when he signed the papers
There were smiles all around
And he picked up new daughter
And walked out of the orphanage
And smiled wide himself
"Are you really my father?"
She asked
"Yes. I am now."
"Then can we get some ice cream and go see the new Clark Gable picture?"
He watched the sunlight
Dance through her hair
And he patted her head
And smiled again
"Anything you want, Norma Jeane,"
He answered
"Anything at all."
Then he stooped down
And gave her a hug
"He gave me time"
He whispered
"Now I'm doing the same for you."
He didn't feel empty
Game Shows You Will Never See
The Check Bouncers
Ooh! My Back!
Twenty Thousand Dollar Pink Belly
Let's Make A Sandwich
Wheel of Blisters
Make Me Puke
Celebrity Bar Room Brawl
Tic Tack Bleed
Bowling For Blowjobs
Squish That Zit!
Fishing With Pistols
I've Got a Chainsaw
Name That Wound
Are Those Real?
Win, Lose, or Die
Who Threw That Brick?
Underwater Checkers
Autopsy!
Shoot the Stars!
Drinking and Driving for Dollars
Beat Your Mom
The Price is Fucked
The Party Piece
You're going to have to help me with this one.
It's cool.
You can handle it.
I promise.
Imagine you are at a party.
Everyone you know is there.
Everybody.
Even me.
I'm there too.
And people you don't know.
There's tons of them.
The place is packed to the rafters, man.
You couldn't fit a poodle in here.
Not without a bottle of salad oil and a crowbar.
There's folk over by the stereo playing strip twister.
Guys and girls faking each other out.
Who's got the coolest car?
That kind of thing.
And there are men in strange uniforms and hats.
Engaged in the most intense game of Risk that's ever been played.
Anywhere.
Ever.
And next to the television there are men in suits and ties.
They are playing Monopoly while wives and girlfriends with big fake nails and big fake hair and even bigger fake tits are cheering them on.
And me?
Where am I?
I'm in the kitchen.
I'm trying to get a beer out of the icebox.
I'm pouring myself a coffee cup of cheap rum.
It's that kind of party.
One of those all night, get down, rammajammas that's not going to end.
At least not until I'm long gone and far forgotten.
It's a lot like a sitcom but nobody knows but me.
But that's another story and I'd rather not get into it right now.
So...
Anyway..
I grab my booze and slowly move.
Slipping inbetween the mass of gameplayers
Sliding into a comfy chair.
Home, sweet home for me.
And I'm sitting there and I look around.
And I can't see the television because a crowd of bullshitters are blocking my view.
And this chick comes up.
And she's beautiful, man.
Blonde.
Green eyes.
The whole deal, right?
And she says, "You know, life is like a game and you should really get in there and play."
And I answer, "Aw, the rules don't make any sense.
I'm not the competitive type anyway.
And besides, "Night of the Lepus" is on TCM tonight and if I miss it it'll screw up my whole week."
And she smiles and kisses my forehead and says, "That's really cool and everything but I have to go hang out with the bullshitters now because the tall one looks a lot like my dad and he seems like the kind of guy that would punch another guy in the face if he caught him flirting with me and that's the kind of thing that really turns me on."
And she walks away.
So...
I pull out my TV Guide and circle the shows that I plan on seeing next week with a purple felt tip pen.
And I get drunk.
Because life is a game and I really should get in there and play.
But
I might be missing something really, really good.
And I don't want to put myself through something like that.
California Quake
Crash, crash, crash
The earthquake is coming to town
He knows when you've been sleeping
And he knows when you're awake
But he doesn't give a shit about that stuff
Houses
Cars
Stores
Mirrors
Windows
Books
Televisions
Cats
Dogs
Goldfish
Trees
Any and all manner of nouns
Will be destroyed
Or lost in the rubble of his wake
But, hey!
Look on the bright side
So will many poets...
Hold The Man-Oh
Some people really piss me off. Like people who say "man-aise" for example. What the fuck is wrong with these assholes?
It's not "man-aise", it's "mayonnaise" for cryin' out loud! It's a French word! It's probably pronounced "may-oh-naise-eee" or "may-oh-naz-ah" or some shit. That's a big pain in the ass through, so here in America we say "may-naise". People who say "man-aise" ought to be killed to fucking death! They should be fucking shot in the kneecaps!
Say you go into a deli and you don't want any of the white creamy stuff. What do you say? Do you say, "hold the "man-oh"."? No! You sure as fuck don't! You say, "hold the "may-oh" Why? Because it's short for "may-oh-naise" That's why!
Suppose you don't want any of the yellow stuff. What do you say then? "Hold the "man-stard"."? No! You don't! There's no such thing as "man-stard"! It's "mus-tard" and "may-naise" you dim bulb motherfuckers!
Get a grip and get out of my face or I'll kill you! Fuck! These assholes prob'ly drink Coors Light too! I hate Coors Light! Coors light? Gimme a break! What? Like a regular Coors is too strong for these people? "Gee...I like a can of Coors now and then but that aftertaste! Yow!" Silver bullet? How'd you like a silver bullet in your fuckin' chest?
Ball Park franks too! They plump when you cook 'em? Big fucking deal! The ads don't say a goddamn thing about how they taste, man! All they say is that they plump when you cook 'em. What does that mean, anyway? Does that mean that some guy at the Ball Park factory beams more hot dog into your hot dog when you heat them up? I don't fucking think so! I think that water in them makes them expand when they get hot. That's what I fucking think!
And those lowfat Oreo's? Fuck you! Don't even get me started with those lowfat Oreo's! If you can't handle a fucking regular Oreo now and then, It's time to end your fucking life! You pussed out, post yuppie motherfuckers! Fuck fucking you!
You wanna know what's wrong with this country? Have a Ball Park frank with some "man-aise" on it, wash it down with a Coors Light, pound a couple of lowfat Oreo's, and give me a call.
I'll tell you what's wrong with this fuckin' country...
Bees
one day, at recess the best dressed and grooviest guy in the whole school saw a bunch of bees hanging around the monkey bars. i'll never forget how groovy he looked, in his bell bottoms and love beads as he did a bee killing dance. he stomped as many as he could screaming, "BEES! ARRRGGGHHH! BEES!", as i tried to tell him that if he left them alone they wouldn't hurt him. he was a huge hero that day and i was an asshole. he saved the playground from a huge bee attack while i sat there like a lump and did nothing. the truth wasn't importent in the slightest. the cool guy was forever the cool guy. the fact that i had read about bees and was only stung once, when i wasn't looking and stepped on one in my bare feet about a year before that didn't matter. he was cool and i sucked.
years later, as i waited for the light to change at a corner on wilshire blvd. i saw him again. he was sitting in a very shiny car that he didn't need, drinking a starbucks with one hand and holding a cell phone in the other as "all you need is love" pumped out of the car's speakers.
he was still, and forever the grooviest guy you could ever want to see.
i bet he gets laid every night, tossing chicks aside as if they were burnt matches while i live a humble life on line trying to help others. and, if we met face to face i doubt he would have even the slightest trouble telling me what a loser i am. crushing my hopes, dreams, and ideas like so many bees. or the needy. or the homeless.
i'll leave the point of this story up to you.
i'm just not groovy enough to explain it...
Tuesday, February 20, 2018
Looking
and
i think
a thumb would fit there
just right
when holding your face
with one hand
like
if a speck was in your eye
or
if you needed a tear kissed away
or
just to feed you a nibble on a candy bar
you know
something simple like that
My Dad
Back in the very late fifties he drug me to the Santa Monica pier on just such a fishing trip. I was about three or four years old at the time. I seriously doubt I was even into TV Guide at the time.
We sat on an edge of the pier and cast our lines into the wind. Somehow (and I don’t even remember this) I reeled in a fish that was roughly the size of a nice "sammich".
There was another kid about my age, bored to death as he hung out with a father who was about the same age as mine. Another asshole who was hell-bent on "beating the system" just like my father was. This poor kid didn’t catch a fish and his dad was more than a bit peeved at this. Fucking fathers, man. You got me on that one. His kid was a fucking KID for Christ’s sake.
This kid’s dad kind of laid into him. "Geezuz! Can’t you even catch a fucking fish?", that whole vibe, so I reached into my dad’s bucket and gave the poor little fucker the fish that I had caught. He and his dad were amazed and both got real happy real fast, the whole point of life (at least in that moment) being "FISH!!!!" and not at all connected to real life at all.
My dad smiled and "let things slide", saying something sage like, "Kids? What you gonna do?" and let the dad and the now happy kid stalk off into the night.
On the way home he threw the fucking book at me and called me a pussy. Many, many, many times.
This is how I deal with my friends. Both in real life and on line. I give away my fish.
It’s left up to you to figure out what I mean by this. I’m not a professor. I’m an asshole with a ton of fish and it’s up to you to pick out the bones.
Chix
i said: "why?"
she said: "because it's a beautiful, natural, wonderful thing."
i said: "then i should be able to watch."
she said: "that's sick!"
i said: "how come? it's a beautiful, natural, wonderful thing."
she said: "but it's a private thing. something shared between a mother and child."
i said: "then it should be done somewhere private."
she said: "god! you just don't get it, do you?"
this is one of the many reasons i don't have a girlfriend.
A Piece Of A Screenplay
We hear gunshots. Manning and RADCLIFFE duck into the alley. They both have pistols and are a bit out of breath. Radcliffe wears a black jacket over a Marilyn Monroe T-shirt.
Their friendship is quite like that of Butch and Sundance.
RADCLIFFE
Damn! Those guys are good!
MANNING
Not as good as us. Close, but not as good as us.
RADCLIFFE
They have us cornered in an alley, Glen. They're pretty good.
MANNING
We've been cornered before.
RADCLIFFE
Okay. I don't want to argue. It's my birthday. Let's play nice, okay?
MANNING
Here's what we're gonna do: I'll take out Castle and you go for Woolsey. We'll ice these assholes, drop off the microfilm, and then go get drunk.
RADCLIFFE
I want Castle.
MANNING
No way. Castle's mine.
RADCLIFFE
But it's my birthday.
MANNING
Throw that up in my face.
RADCLIFFE
I just did.
MANNING
All right. You can have Castle. But you owe me big time. I hate that Castle.
RADCLIFFE
And don't forget our deal.
MANNING
You're getting on my nerves with that.
RADCLIFFE
C'mon, we made a pact. Say it with me. You know you want to.
MANNING
I don't like saying it, Cliffie. It scares me when we say it.
RADCLIFFE
Remember that night in Sheboygan? We made the pact and got the tattoos?
MANNING
That's true! What were we thinking that night?
RADCLIFFE
It wasn't the thinking it was the drinking. Now...are you gonna say it with me or what?
MANNING
Aw, hell. Alright. I hereby swear...
RADCLIFFE
...that if anything happens to one of us...
MANNING
...the one of us that is not dead...
RADCLIFFE
...will find someone else and...
MANNING
...teach him...
RADCLIFFE
...or her...
MANNING
...everything that we now know.
RADCLIFFE
That wasn't so hard, was it?
MANNING
Are you happy now, birthday boy?
RADCLIFFE
Yes. Very. My nipples are stiff and I'm starting to get damp.
MANNING
Swell. Can we go kill these guys?
RADCLIFFE
There's nothing I'd rather do.
They brace themselves, count to three, and step into the street.
STREET
WOOLSEY waits in the doorway of a closed liquor store.
CASTLE is hiding behind a parked car.
Woolsey fires at Manning, missing him completely but blowing two holes in a phonebooth.
Manning shoots Woolsey, who falls through the window of the liquor store.
Castle fires an Uzi at Radcliffe.
Radcliffe spins around in a circle and shoots Castle in the shoulder. Castle falls to the street.
Radcliffe slumps down on a bus bench and sighs. Manning steps up to him.
MANNING
Goddamn! That was easy! Let's go have a birthday party, tough guy!
Radcliffe is very depressed and whiney.
RADCLIFFE
I don't wanna.
MANNING
Why not?
Radcliffe mumbles something.
MANNING
What?
Radcliffe mumbles again.
MANNING
Can you try that with an American accent? You know, just once?
RADCLIFFE
I'm shot in the chest.
Manning laughs. Hard. He doesn't believe it for a second.
MANNING
That's a good one! Let's go.
Radcliffe opens his jacket. His Marilyn Monroe T-shirt has three holes in it and he is bleeding. Radcliffe is angry, both at Manning and himself.
RADCLIFFE
See the holes? Do you have holes? I do! You wanna know why? Because I'm shot in the fucking chest, that's why!
MANNING
Does it hurt?
Radcliffe points his gun at Manning.
RADCLIFFE
Hell if I know! Why don't you stand back and I'll shoot you in the chest a few times? That way you can tell me!
He drops the gun.
MANNING
Hang on, tough guy. I'll get you an ambulance.
RADCLIFFE
Ambulance? Get me a priest! I'm shot in the fucking chest!
MANNING
Maybe you should take it easy, huh?
RADCLIFFE
Take it easy? Are you blind? I'm shot in the fucking chest!
MANNING
I don't know what to do.
RADCLIFFE
Shit! Me either! This was my favorite shirt! I guess this screws the hell out of my birthday, huh? I already paid for the hookers and everything!
MANNING
You got hookers?
RADCLIFFE
Yeah. I was gonna take the redhead and let you have the blonde.
MANNING
It's your birthday! You should've picked the blonde, you know? You love blondes!
RADCLIFFE
Yeah, that just shows you what a good heart I have! Now I'm shot in the fucking chest! Is that ironic or what? Heart? Chest? Holes? Do you see what I'm getting at here?
He coughs and spits up about a half a cup of blood.
RADCLIFFE
Oh, great! Now I'm coughing up blood! What's next? A paper cut?
MANNING
Hang on, man. I'm gonna go to that pay phone over there and get you some help.
Manning takes a step toward the phonebooth. Radcliffe calls to him. He is suddenly calm and serious.
RADCLIFFE
Glen? Don't bother, okay?
MANNING
Hey, c'mon now. Don't give up on me, tough guy. You're gonna make it through this.
RADCLIFFE
It's out of my hands, Glen.
MANNING
C'mon, Cliffie. Hang in there.
RADCLIFFE
I'll say hi to Marilyn Monroe for you.
MANNING
Cliffie. Fight it, man.
RADCLIFFE
Don't forget our deal. Promise me.
MANNING
I promise, tough guy. I promise.
Radcliffe breathes his last breath. He slides over to a laying position on the bench. He is smiling. Ever so slightly, but smiling none the less.
Manning takes an old broom out of a trash can next to the bench and snaps it in half over his knee.
MANNING
Aw...shit...
We hear a weak voice. Castle is still alive.
CASTLE
Manning? I could use an ambulance.
Castle is laid out on the sidewalk. Manning starts toward him.
MANNING
Castle? You're not dead?
CASTLE
No, Manning. Not yet.
Manning moves closer, holding the broomstick like a club.
He smiles at Castle.
MANNING
Let's see what we can do about that.
Castles eyes get wide. He's about to get beaten to death and he knows it.
CASTLE
Oh, fuck...
Manning raises the broomstick. He brings it down with full force.
Just before it makes contact with Castle's head we...
JUMP CUT TO BLACK
Walking On Glass
i'd be your pokemon
we could move to paris
or sheboygan if you'd like
cuz i think of you nightly
and my heart warms with your image
but my mind gets lonely
without the sense of your touch
and they tell me i'm wrong
just like they always do
and their buzz in my ears
replaces sweet sound
but i'm not gonna stop
cuz i'm afraid if i did
i'd wake up in heaven
and god would say:
"what? are you nuts?
you were almost there, man!"
so i button my coat
and tread into the dark
lightly i tread
always lightly
for i know i'm only
walking. walking on glass
and i'm walking alone
again.
on glass
Flash
It flows aside me, watching
Flows inside me, talking
My eyes are aglow with heart's desire
Birds sing both opera and doo-wop all at once
Blues and greens collide and dance along
Flowers whisper my name as a chorus
Love rains down, taking the solo
Soaking us all with the music
Its wet resolve hums the backbeat
The sky looks down
And smiles it's kindly smile
It's yet another beautiful day
And we are the children and the owners
Of the earthly homeland that swings
Beneath our feet.
Man!
Sometimes these acid flashbacks are fun!
Rant
you know?
there were these dinosaurs
then this big ass chunk of iridium
smacked into the earth
and then the fifties showed up
and my parents thought that being in love meant having kids
and you're pretty much up to speed at this point
the most amazing thing to me is
that i'm not totally fucking drunk every fucking day
how do you people handle this shit?
is it a desire to own things?
is that how you stay unsane?
i try
i swear i try
i just don't get it
big houses
big cars
getting laid every night
voting for assholes
gripping things until you die
i do not understand your simple ways
i am not one of you
i'm fucking crazy
i'm the last human on earth
Poetry For mobsters
Three shots rang out
the noise bouncing off of the brick walls
that lined the alley
behind Big Tony Monstasquigleoni's Bar and Grill
it sounded like somebody had thrown a housecat
into a fucking gong
like they got in one of those pagodas
or some shit like that
The first bullet hit that Louie
the scumbag poodle fucking motherfucker
in the crook of his arm
it blew his fucking elbow
out the back of his shirt sleeve
funny bone and all
(I swear I heard it clank into one of those dumpsters
Big Tony's got back there
but I could be wrong)
Anyways...
The second slug
entered Louie's belly
blood shot out of his stomach
like some big ass weightlifter fuck
had shoved a tomato into a fucking funnel
so hard that spaghetti sauce sprayed out the small end
(He was really screaming now
"Oh,fuck! I'm fucking shot!
Please don't kill me!
Please,God,please!"
I'm telling you
you should've been there
it was fucking great!)
The third bullet
hit that scumbag
square in the mouth
and the back of his head
fucking exploded
baad-ah-bang!
"Hey,asshole!"
I laughed
"I betcha won't be messing with my wife anytime soon!
at least...
not till you get a new fucking face!"
Hey,Bobby?
Where's our waitress?
She's got my scotch and soda...
"BAD NIGHT NO.12"
I lift him up
I drop him
I lift him up
I drop him
I lift him up
I fucking drop him
If you're going to drink
don't try to hang a squealer on a meat hook
"REFLECTIONS OF LOVE"
You tell me you love me
that you'll always be mine
You tell me you'll need me
until the end of time
You tell me want me
like two turtledoves
So why can't you tell me
how to get this fucking blood stain out of my rug?
For Puff
Sunday, February 18, 2018
sometimes
i feel bad about how much i love television
but
then again
it did stop me from beating my family to death
with a toaster oven...
psssssst...
you should be thinking about who's holding the string)
Friday, February 16, 2018
Toong! Boof! Splat!
So...one day he's up on, um...I dunno, like the two hundred and thirty fourth floor or whatever and he stops for lunch. Opens his lunch pail and starts munching on an egg salad sandwich with bacon bits. Real bacon bits, mind you. None of that fake stuff for this guy.
And
He's gulping down his chow with his feet dangling over the edge of the building and this swinging crane pops him in the head with a beam. Right in the fucking head. He's not looking behind himself and he gets whacked it the head. And his helmet goes TOONG! That was the sound it made when the beam hit him.
TOONG!
Like a tuning fork or something, right?
BOOF!
He goes flying over the edge of the building! And he's falling and screaming and suddenly he can't see anything. His eyes go black and then his whole life goes reeling by. He sees himself being born, and growing up, and going to school, and all these old girlfriends, and houses that he lived in and such. All the way up to being smacked in the fucking skull and falling off of the building.
Then.
And this is the weird part, he sees a baby being born. A little girl. And she grows up, and goes to school, and has some boyfriends, and some houses and jobs, and she dies in a plane crash.
And Newmar says, "What the fuck was that?"
And then this voice enters his head. Deep in tone and rather soothing. It comes from inside and outside of him all at the same time.
It says, "Scenes from next time."
SPLAT!
He hit the pavement at about nine zillion miles an hour and was buried in a sponge.
The end.
Hi, kids!
How are you all doing today?
Good.
That's real good.
Today I'm going to show you how to make people's eyes lock up like a raccoon caught in a pair of headlights.
Does that sound like fun?
Are you ready?
Then let's go...
Don't you hate it when someone asks how you are doing? I know I do. I always have to say, "Fine. Everything's just fine." Or, "Not bad. How are you today?" Sometimes I just want to grab their face and yell, "None of your fucking business, asshole! What are you? A fucking cop?" But that's not very nice, is it boys and girls? No. That's not very nice at all. So what do you do when you feel like that?
Do what I do.
Tell them how you really really feel. That will show them but good.
Say something like
Geeze...
I've got this pain in the small of my back, a huge ass headache, I think my lover is cheating on me, I'm late with the rent, my goldfish doesn't understand me, and what's the deal with this fake metal shit? I mean, what the fuck ever happened to good old rock and roll?
You'd be suprised at the number of people who won't know that you are just messing with them. Most folks will leave you alone real quick. It works most of the time. If you are a girl throw in a mention of "that time of the month", or vaginal warts or something like that. If some guy is bothering you he'll walk away in no time flat. That should work about eighty-five percent of the time.
Of course sometimes you don't feel that angry, just a little bugged.
In that case try this:
Point to your arm and say, "Well, my Aykroyd is grinding against my Verhoeven., you know? Right where the Zemeckis meets the Beatrice Dalle? It makes my Coppola throb like a son of a bitch. My doctor gave me some of that Bon Jovi and, as long as I rub it in deep enough i seem to have it under control."
That ought to show the bastards, huh?
And always remember to tell those Christians, "Um. No thanks! I tried that in my last life and it didn't work out all that great for me."
Welp
I can see by the clock on the wall that i have to go buy a new clock.
Until next time
See ya next time!
top ten reasons that stalking is a bitch
(9) you lose sleep
(8) it doesn't pay for shit
(7) "the catcher in the rye" gets boring the 12th time you read it
(6) in the tv movie of your story you never get a writing credit
(5) clothes get torn when climbing barb wire fences
(4) the annual stalker's dinner and dance has a no host bar
(3) it's hard to think of something new to leave on the answering machine when you call 25 times a day
(2) them stinking headaches
(1) you get rubber cement all over the place when pasting cut-out words on notes
Thursday, February 15, 2018
The Eloi Blues
The siren blow and they fall in line
My old lady is an Eloi
She gots that pure white skin
I say my old lady is an Eloi
Gots that pure white skin
When she smile I lose my senses
Don't know what time zone I'm in
Well, my baby is an Eloi
Just hang around all day
You know, my baby is an Eloi
She hang around all day
When she kiss me I go crazy
I don't know what to say
(middle eight)
Well, my woman is an Eloi
Looks like Yvette Mimieux
I say, my woman is an Eloi
Looks like Yvette Mimieux
You know, she's just meat for the Morlocks
I don't know what to do
(for H.G. Welles)
Positive Schmositive
whatever you believe in.
what is not?
whatever you don't.
i should give up the ramones, stephen king, and zombie movies because you don't have a total sense of art and/or humor?
blow me.
let's say i was going to get a movie made and i said to you, "here's five thousand dollars. i wannna make a cast of your head and blow the fucker up with fake blood and fake brains in it and we're gonna use a ramones tune when it happens."
would you do it?
if you would take a lesson.
if you wouldn't you are full of shit.
let's move on from there...
Drinks
How about some calm the fuck down drinks?
I wouldn't mind having a couple of cases of that stuff on hand at all tines.
The Top Ten Reasons The Burffle Isn't A Korf
9) there once was a driff on the keegle
8) two knoigles don't add up to a roalff
7) he stuppled a cloygle
6) a pluggle and a burufnez ain't no groff
5) what? me tuuurglee?
4) tuesday
3) nine
2) mom says burffley
1) kersploygoin!
Sun Lite
therefore, when you look to the sun it isn't there anymore. it's where it was about six minutes before you are seeing it. it takes about six minutes for sunlight to reach us. you are actually seeing just the light from the sun. a light that is six minutes old.
it amazes me that there are people who think that they have control over their lives. that if they try hard enough and believe hard enough that they can have anything that they want. that people that can't get the things that they want just don't really want it bad enough. that if everybody felt the same way that they do that the world would be a perfect place.
people that can't really see the sun.
but that think that they do.
Possible Bumper Stickers
2. Honk if I'm in your way
3. My child is fine just the way he is
4. Your guru has emotional problems or he wouldn't need to have people pay so much attention to him
5. If you can read this you really should be reading more
6. I voted for Blofeld
7. Burn your self help books and start helping
8. creativity + boredom = art
9. Bumper stickers are pointless
Wednesday, February 14, 2018
One Of Those Nights
Now, you have to consider the condition of my brain at this point. I had gotten a ride to the party in Stan Lee's limo, Stan was hitting the Jack rather fiercely that night and, seeing as to how he hadn't been invited to said party felt a need to challenge me to some guzzling. "C'mon, you true unbeliever! Suck some back!" I tried to be polite. Told him I'd be having my fill soon enough but when he started calling me a pussy I figured the gauntlet had been thrown and chugged about a third of the bottle with my right hand while flipping his ass off defiantly with my left. "Pussy THAT, old-timer!", I snarled and handed the bottle back. It was about that time that he laid out some Godzilla sized lines of what he liked to call "South American Jumping Powder". Suffice to say that on the way up the drive the drops of water glittering on the oh so green of the lawn struck me as solid and complete proof of God's existence. "How could anything that beautiful come into our reality without some kind of divine handiwork involved?" You know, that whole drinky/druggy vibe.
So I opened the door and Robert Conrad is standing there with a huge tank of nitrous (the kind with wheels and a handle attached for easy transportation) and a case of Night Train. I guess he was slumming it that night. "Hey, asshole! Where's the fucking party at?", he screamed, and by the smell of near cheese on his breath I could tell he had been into the 'train for quite some time.
He shoved a bottle in my face and said, "Drink this, nancy boy or I'll strangle you with a live dachshund." Laugh? I nearly crapped. The guy did have his moments, humor-wise, I have to give him that.
I'm standing there, putting away the Night Train when he bellows, "Where the fuck do I put my coat?". He opens a door and Paul Lynde sticks his head out of the crack, sees the confusion on Conrad's face, and says, in a Chardonnay fueled impression of himself, "Sorry, Bob. I'm not out of the closet yet!"
Conrad: "Suck my dick!"
Lynde: "Take a number, cowboy!"
That did it. I totally lost it at that point. Was laughing so hard I started to lose my balance, right? So I stick my left hand out and grab the first thing I feel to steady myself. Wrong move on my part. I found myself hanging onto Margaret Dumont's left breast! She says, in that shocked, upper crust kind of way that is all hers, "Well! I never!"
Pat Sajak is walking by at that point, helping Dianne Arbus to the bathroom. You know how she gets after seven or eight Bloody Marys, just a full on pain in the ass. Pat says to Miss. Dumont, "Oh, yeah? What about that night with the donkey at that boat show in Sheboygan?"
Dumont blushes and, just as she's about to answer him Dianne Arbus says, "Aw, shut up, bitch! I've got pictures to prove it." That Dianne Arbus being ever at the ready with a cutting rejoinder, to be sure.
I'm on the floor at this point, laughing as if insane. Dumont shoves her hand into a nearby salsa bowl and crams a fist full into my open mouth. I'm so wasted I don't even feel it. Either that or it was one of those wimpy mild brands of salsas. I swallowed it and flipped her off as well.
Just then I look up and I see Wavy Gravy hanging from the chandelier. I guess he had been there the whole time and I just hadn't noticed him. He says, "Wow! Bad news, man! I spiked the salsa bowl with some acid I got from Walter Cronkite! First class government stuff! You're gonna be tripping for a month, man! It's heavy duty shit! The kind they use on blue whales! Fast acting too!"
I look down at this point and see that I'm slowly sinking into the floor. I'm waist deep in some kind of retro/googie/post-moderne space ship pattern that's like something right out of George Jetson's kitchen. Blurp, blurp! It a matter of moments I find myself chest deep and sinking deeper. Fast acting doesn't do this electric salsa justice. I'm fucking ripped!
A voice screams out, "Just the asshole I've been looking for!"
Oh, Christ! It's Billy Barty! He's been gunning for me ever since he got burned on that heroin deal. I've tried to explain that I had nothing to do with it. That I don't even know Bill Cullen but he just won't listen. The blame has to fall somewhere and he's picked me for the fall guy. He kicks me in the nuts, awfully hard for a guy his size but I'm so fucked up I just laugh even harder. Now he's crazed. "Nobody laughs at me!", he screams.
I'm about to shoot back with, "Yeah. You're just not very funny any more, Tiny!", when I see that I'm sunk into the floor up to my chin. Billy straps the mask from the nitrous tank on my face and cranks the gas up to eleven.
Just before I pass out I think, "Great... It's one of THOSE nights?"