Thursday, March 6, 2008

Today's Stars in the Bungalows of Tomorrow

busy as a bee! busy as a bee! busy as a bee that's me me me!

a workbee a workbee a workbee yee?

no! a queenbee a queenbee a queenbee me!

busy as a bee! busy as a bee! busy as a bee that's me me me!

I wasn't aware that Boston was the gonorrhea capital of the USA "Gonorrhea: Boston Takes a Beating" "Gonorrhea: Safety Takes a Holiday"

low class sponge met high class sponge in a soapy sink

Patrick and I will be honeymooning at the Labrea Tar Pits, as our love is

like coal: black as night

calming up throwing down freaking off J***ing on shining in weighing out freezing left righting right protecting back piping front wagging top wrenching bottom slapping at

"Theme for Dick Fontaine" by Flat Duo Jets is veritable southern gothic, gothic in the vintage way ivy wrapped around a dilapidated slab of abandoned marble. 15 yr old Dex, too grimy to be allowed at the dinner table, hollering through grave­yards and dissapearing into the halloween haunt of the Mausoleum. Scouring record stores and pawn shops during schooldays to plunder and revive the south's rich pageantry of song. And from such unwashed adolescent shenangians comes

the sincerest art.

tradition lives on- as a girl my mom wiped boogers on the wall above her bed, leaving them to dry, harden, and eventually drop behind her bed or onto the pillow. As a young man, I would methodically place them (mine that is) in a ridge atop my impromptu milkcrate furniture. Yet I would notice them missing. Was there an insect somewhere that would take them?

Bombproof Gentleman............"finger yer uppers mama, we're gonna

Dithering Tuxedogrooms.........cut it again"

Momma Jungle..........................."careful when ya kiss that feller, he'll

New Douglass Smartalecks.....masticate yer smeller"

Thwarted in Baton Rouge

Bad Casa Clap

Okay- 8:05 am, I'm awake and ready to kick some serious butt!



hey, you look like the type, let's get silly, whaddya say? okay...

ginky! gimplits! sninckle! hoptee! fozum! dinj! soklia! obquay!

hiki! scrotum snatcher! scrotum matcher! ra ra scrotum snatcher! of the carpenter we say- a good man, he whose got it together 3 men. 7 matching towels, whodunit? two childhood antecdotes I should get around to telling: 2) buying a Split Enz cassette and then ripping my foreskin (non-causal relationship)

2) winding up with shit on the tip of my nose after helping my dad fix my bedframe (causal relationship)

and maybe also the time a kid named Neil Schwamie ripped his rectum that summer I was sent to Camp Thunderbird (non-causal relationship)..........or how about the time i got goofy stoned and took a

shit in a water cooler at 2am on the Chapel Hill Tennis Club soft court, this being during a summer morn when dedicated players would be arriving a mere 5 hours later to play (causal relationship, possible police inquiry)......or the time at age 6 I popped all four tires on our new

station wagon because I wanted to stay longer at the farm of a family

friend and play darts (causal relationship,whupping)

or that time I was unjustly accused of the crime of the century...

or the time I wrote "The Great Gatsby" whilst trapped in an 1849 time

warp......or that time I refused to sign the Beatles because it seemed to

me that electric guitars were 'on the way out'... Boy, it goes on and on. I've led a rich and varied life, especially considering I was born in the year 2073 on an off world colony orbiting Barnard's Star!

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