Friday, July 31, 2015
I was in mexico attempting to record the music of the native peoples. What I found was that they really liked that song "don't you want me baby" by human league and were blaring it from every boombox and car and cantina in the land. So I set up my microphones to record these radio's, first from up close right by the speaker, then slowly going back ten metres at a time to capture the ambiance into which this music was broadcast. I did this everywhere I heard the song and presented my recordings to the university. They were not pleased.
Thursday, July 30, 2015
I found her panties under the bed and her earrings on the bedside table and her coat on the hook and her belt in the corner and her car out the front and her bra on my chair and her book on my shelf and her hair clip in the bathroom and her mascara on the sink and I smiled when I found each of them.
Friday, July 24, 2015
I need a country man. A man with a whole lot of energy. One who can pull a plow and milk a cow. And drag tractors around with his teeth. And pull giant tress out from the ground and use them as toothpicks to clean the tractor gunk out of his massive teeth. And use an old sewerage pipe as a straw to drain the lake to find my diamond ring I dropped in there. And dig great big holes big enough to hide the bodies of all the hobos I murder. That's the kind of man I need.
Thursday, July 23, 2015
A blip on the computer monitor indicated that she was stalled in her boat in between Antarctica and a random giant block of ice. That's a tricky situation. I imagined her leaping into the freezing cold water, hear skin instantly covering in goosebumps, her nipples becoming erect. I really should have been thinking more about her plight and the problems she might face staying alive and how I could help, but when I think of her, my mind just trails off into these fantasies. What a beautiful alien creature she is.
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
Get away fly, I can't stand you buzzing around my head, but I know if I swat you your compatriots will be duty bound to take revenge, and soon I will be completely surrounded by flies, so when I walk up to someone they will say, "what is that strange black buzzing mass coming towards me?" It will be very frightening and they will probably run away. This will make it very hard to buy a newspaper, let alone make time with a young lady.
Monday, July 20, 2015
Let me take you to the movies, shorty. I'm sure later on you will be my baby. How am I so sure? Because I came here from the future, using a teleportation device that has since been destroyed. I can never go back. The only way is forward. But I know that in the future you too will be sent through the mists of time and in a shocking development, while you are now my date, in the future you will in fact be my child! They explained to me how this all works at some point but to be honest I was totally zoning out and didn't compute any of it. Not showing a great deal of perspicacity.
Sunday, July 19, 2015
The girl's anfractuous voice twisted all around me, wrapping me in it's timbre like a cobra ready to squeeze the life out of me. Or is that a python? Shit, I'm not some snake motherfucker, I can't get this stuff right all the time. So anyway, her sweet mellifluous tones had me all wrapped up, lets say like a mummy this time, I was Tutankhamen and glad to be dead with my hands folded over my chest if it meant getting wrapped up by this honey's lovely vocal bandages.
Friday, July 17, 2015
Drinking from crystal streams, I am bent over and the crystals fill me up. They convince all the other cells in my body to turn into crystals and now I am The Man Made Of Crystals. As I walk through the countryside, all the beavers and other rodents see the light twinkling through me and get an extra little twinkle in their eye, and as they build dams and eat trees and dig holes, they do it with an extra sense of joie de vivre. I'm glad I can do my part. I hope when I reach the city that my sight will enliven and enlighten the humans, and they will not set upon me and tear me apart and sell my crystal body parts one at a time.
Thursday, July 16, 2015
Great mounds of clay all over, let's smoosh them together, sexy Ghost style, I'll get behind you and we can spin them on the pottery wheel together, or fuck that, let's just throw them on the ground and smoosh them between our naked toes as we embrace. Then you can throw me to the ground and we can make mad passionate fuck, grinding ourselves into the clay until it's smooshed all over us and we are frozen forever in some particularly lurid moment of coitus, ancient pornography for the Martians to ponder in a million years.
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
I was hanging out with the boys in Miami, we had some great pastel sweaters on, nice trousers, Lars had his soul patch trimmed just right. We were looking fly as hell, busting some sweet unison dance moves. I was playing a little Spanish guitar. All of a sudden my beautiful girlfriend who never speaks, she got up and walked off down the beach. I called out to her, "where do you go, my lovely? where do you go?" She turned and I thought she may speak for the first time, but suddenly a shark leaped out of the water and ate her whole. Chomp.
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
There was a rat who became a rich maharaja over in those eastern lands, he had a bejewelled turban and women-servants with the chemise face-veil laying on silk pillows and all that jazz, but still he missed his home in Nagambie where the blond princess would chase him around the house and he could eat all the green scrubbing sponges his heart desired. It was a simpler life and cold as hell, but he felt the warmth from heart of the blond princess that made his ratty eyes glow red. Over here, in all this luxury, nobody really cared enough to chase him around and his eyes were beady and black and dead.
Thursday, July 9, 2015
I miniaturized myself using the toaster with the cord wrapped around the kettle and some UV lights. The dimensions weren't quite right, but I got small enough to get myself down the drain. Sliding all through the pipes was pretty gross but I hadda get that wedding ring by hook or by crook. Preferably by crook. The thing was, I found the ring but I slid right through it and ended up in a strange watery place where there were freaky cult happenings afoot, rats with hoods holding flaming sticks chanting in low voices (low as a fuckin rat can go anyway).
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
Facing the wind, my nose frosted up and got frostbite. The wind bit it off, chunk by chunk. Then it bit off my cheeks and my lips and my eyebrows and large chunks of my forehead. But my baby loves me so that when she saw she said "c'mere" and pashed me long and hard. All the folks standing around began to vomit at the sight of such a disfigured man being pashed so, my tongue poking out from the lipless teeth and waggling about in her mouth. I would have kindly asked them to take their vomiting elsewhere as the smell was interrupting my amor, but I was too busy kissing.
Monday, July 6, 2015
Dripping from her fingers and into the cracks between the piano keys, the dark purple feelings slid inside it and coated the hammers and the strings, getting them sticky and gooey and covered in dark plasmatic erogenous throbbing phantasmosity. Now whenever another played this piano, no matter how bright and sprightly the melody, it hung with an air of slow, lugubrious torment.
Sunday, July 5, 2015
Drambuie dripped off my lips, in the shower. I could feel the hot water droplets penetrating right through my skull. It was meeting up with the drambuie droplets and swilling all around inside my head, pickling my brain and making it feel warm and nice. Give it 20 days and my brain will be so tasty, you'll be able to just pluck it out and pop it on a plate with some some blue cheese and some champignons and some prosciutto and your guests will be wowed like wow. And I will be standing there brainless in the shower with my skull cavity overflowing with hot water and drambuie still dripping from my lips.
Saturday, July 4, 2015
I can't handle your man scent, sent through the air to ruin my life. It floats over the poplar trees, under a dog that tries to bite it as it goes past, through a nail salon, curving up and under the ladies nails, doing a little twirl around each woman, and each is aware of a presence, but the scent is not meant for them. When it finally reaches my nostril, my legs collapse and I lay there dribbling on the sidewalk, knowing I am ruined.
Friday, July 3, 2015
Plump and juicy buttocks dangling from the buttock tree. As the sun shines into my eyes, i fondle a particularly nice pair. They could be taken down and put on the mantle to eventually rot and stink up the place, they could be eaten, they could be used for salacious purposes, but hanging from the tree here, on this mountain in the andes, they are at their most ripe and beautiful.
Thursday, July 2, 2015
The garbage man came in my front door and threw garbage down the hall. "I'm tired of picking up your garbage, you fuck. You got the worst, stinkiest garbage in the whole neighbourhood". Then he went and collected next door's garbage and threw that into my hallway. By 11am, every room in the house was waist deep in garbage. I cowered on top of the kitchen bench, considering my options. At least the mice were happy now. So many scraps to eat.
Wednesday, July 1, 2015
I felt myself pulled into the black hole. It was an erotic womb that would cradle me and as it tore me apart. It reminded me of other erotic things in life that cradle you as they tear you apart. I wouldn't have it any other way.