poetry heals

Roses are Red
Violets are Blue
I Hate Mel Gibson
Because Gibson Hates Jews

it's cause i comb my beard with honey

the sound of dead and dying leaves; the smells emitted by trees and plants slowly stumbling into their winter comas; the sidewalks a sea of sweaters and scarves; the cool mountain air roaming in and scaring the humidity out of town.
it was because of these things that i let my guard down.
and i was because i let my guard down that the wasp attacked me and chased me for two city blocks.
when the temperature dips enough for me to warrant the breaking out of the leather coat i officially stop worrying about wasps, bees, flies, dragon flies and Atlas moths.
but the wasp i faced today was no lazy "i buzz around a trashbin stealing sugar from soda cans" wasp.
it was bigger, stronger, faster.
and probably angrier.
an autumn wasp.
the fact he's even living at this time of the year is a testament to his (or her) awesome strength.
and since i had the guff to stroll around downtown with an "i'm allergic to wasps but what-fucking-ever" kind of look written across my face, he (or she) decided to chase me.
so i walked faster.
still being chased.
so i walked faster while casually swatting (flailing?) my arms all around me.
still being chased, he/she going for the face.
i am running down the sidewalk like an idiot.
flapping my wings.
saying "fuck off!" and "shit!" and "hey, cool belt. Le Chateau?"
when i thought i had enough of a lead on him i ducked into an alley and waited, pretending to tie my shoe so as not to look like i was just kind of lurking in an alley/hiding from a tiny insect.
when i felt safe enough i continued on my way.
if anyone happened to see this go down... i was practicing some new dance moves... i'll show you on the weekend.

everybody's working for the weekend

[ringing telephone...]
Magnus: hello?
Rexor: dude, what's up?
Magnus: hey man not too much, just trying to get out of here.
Rexor: slow night?
Magnus: brutal.
Rexor: shitty. listen man, are you still coming tonight?
Magnus: to Zordok's party? shit yes, once i'm done here.
Rexor: do you know how to get there?
Magnus: no..i thought i'd grab a lift with you.
Rexor: can't do it, my chariot's fucked. Sherry's going to let me borrow her steed and there's only enough room for the two of us. but i can give you directions.
Magnus: fuck... ok..hold on...[rustling of scrolls], ok, shoot.
Rexor: alright, you know where Hawkblood Mountain is?
Magnus: yeah.
Rexor: it's on the other side.
Magnus: in relation to what?
Rexor: in relation to where you are right now.
Magnus: ok..... so he's on the same side as the Manticore's cavern?
Rexor: yeah exactly, but you have to go around the mountain, you can't take the Tunnel of Thieves.
Magnus: why not? it's like a million times quicker.
Rexor: i know, but the Sorceror's have been busting a lot of those Orcish punks for drinking mead up there and torching some Tree People, it'll be a fucking hassle.
Magnus: ok. so i go the long way...then what?
Rexor: you know where the Emerald Claw Tavern is?
Magnus: yeah i think so...on the old Berserker's Warpath? where they're building that new Starbuck's?
Rexor: exactly....go left when you get to that intersection and keep going till you reach the Well of Confusion.
Magnus: Well..of..Confusion...ok, that's perfect, because i need smokes anyway.
Rexor: don't get 'em there, get them from the Swamp Mage, she's like a block away from Zordok's and they're way cheaper.
Magnus: alright....so where after that?
Rexor: after the Well take another left, go two or three blocks and take a right at the nearest Soul-Chasm and he's right on that street, near the Tree of Eternally Rotting Flesh. if you see the Edge of Time you've gone too far.
Magnus: got it. when are you heading over?
Rexor: Sherry and i are leaving in like twenty minutes.
Magnus: are you bringing your cell?
Rexor: no, it's dead. you'll be alright, it's easy to find. the boys'll probably be jamming anyway so you'll definently hear us.
Magnus: cool man. i'm just gonna finish closing up here then i'll grab some Elixer and head out.
Rexor: don't bother with the Elixer, Zordok picked up like four kegs.
Magnus: four?! how big is this party?
Rexor: it's gonna be pretty nuts man, so don't worry about booze. just make sure you bring some gold.
Magnus: will do. do you uh...do you think Janelle's gonna be there?
Rexor: Sherry was just talking to her, i think she's there already. why? are you gonna tap that?
Magnus: i'm gonna try...she just broke up with Dekram.
Rexor: i heard. i hope he doesn't show up, i fucking hate that guy.
Magnus: douchebag. thinks he's so fucking mighty. do you think i should bring my sword?
Rexor: i'm bringing mine, do it.
Magnus: awesome. so i guess i'll be there in like an hour and something?
Rexor: sounds good man. see you in a bit.
Magnus: cool. tell Sherry to put in a good word for me.
Rexor: will do. later.
Magnus: later.
[click]

reader's poll

let's say you were taking a stroll down the aisle of your local bookmonger's shop, in the mood for something a little sketchy.
which title would you find more appealing?
(5 free AirMiles for every response)

"Carved In Ancient Rock With A Sword Made Of Lightning"

"Doublefisting"

"The Mannequin's Ass And Other Stories"

untitled

a year is a year is a year is a year.
i was so out of it, so necessarily wasted, that i didn't even retain what the exact date was, just the approximate time of month.
and let me tell you, the difference between same month and actual day is like the difference between getting whacked with a phonebook and catching a laser guided dart in the neck.

{i don't remember if i was three or four, but i do remember being in the old backyard, surrounded by that tall red wooden fence.
i remember he had a beer in one hand a my favorite ball in the other, the red one with the white dots, and i remember he threw it straight up in the air, launched it, and i thought that sucker was gonna knock out the sun.
and i remember that being the first time i was ever truly and completely amazed by anything.}

cue the laser guided dart.

liquor mcnuggets

delicious BBQ chicken flavor crystals?
meet ice cold, extra strong beer.
i now pronounce you a New Taste Sensation.
you shall be known as Fowlcohol.
this must be what an angel's vagina tastes like.

train buddies (to the tune of 'hot blooded')

we're train buddies, check it and see
we met today back on car number three
c'mon baby put your hand in my pants
we're train buddies
train buddies!

Dinosaur Jr. raped my ears and now my brain is pregnant with snarling feedback

that, my friends, was rock 'n roll done right.
fucking awesome.

boatylicious

i must say, the best part was when Blake and i had to row back to shore.
but not only did we have to row back to shore, we had to row back to shore in the dark, while being ruinously drunk.
i thought i was going fall into the bay just loading up the damn thing with the leftover beer; and FYI, loading a rowboat is fucking awkward when you are drunk and have only one good arm. almost as awkward as drinking with that chick last week and finding out she was one of the cops who busted me for napping on someone's lawn a while back.
classy.
anyway...the first few dozen meters of our voyage aboard the SS Imminent Disaster were the trickiest, what with the trying to row and drink simultainiously.
our plan had reeked of dangerous assumptions from the beginning and i didn't even consider any of the Maritime Codes Of Operation until we were too far from the Mother Ship to do anything about it.
and it was too dark to see the docks.
and what if we lose the paddles?
life jackets?
nope, those things are for jerks.
luckily i was wearing my heavy leather coat.
leather floats right?
the word "doomed" came to mind.
the headline "Bodies Found On Shore, Partially Devoured By Jellyfish, Suffering From Record Breaking Shrinkage" also came to mind.
what a laughably depressing way to die.
but, in the end, our sub par rowing techniques and ignorance to personal safety paid off and we made it to the docks.
sure we missed the whole concert, and the Shore Club was emptying out by the time we got there, and we didn't know if the others on the ship would be stranded all night, but these things didn't matter.
what matters is that i got to piss in the ocean, i earned my Sea Legs, and my jeans still smell like a bonfire on a beach in the middle of the nowhere in the middle of night.
peace out, Summer.

buying a dog

finally, an excuse to carry around little bags of animal feces.