Radio EFE Redux

By the way, tune in to Radio EFE sometime. Find us under "Mixed Format" at the Pirate Radio Network. If we're broadcasting, we'll be listed there. We generally broadcast at 56kbps. Sorry, lowly dial-uppers!

Is Your Penis Too Small?

Apparently mine is. I keep getting all these goddamn spam emails for penis enlargement pills. I keep opting out, they keep sending them. Hey government, I thought you were supposedly tracking these assholes down and fining them. Once again you come up short! Maybe you should be the ones taking the pills. Oh wait, I forget that you all are delusional about that already. Nevermind.

Keith "MuzikMan" Hanneleck Gets Pissy with EFE

That's right, kids! MuzikMan has directed his disgust towards the grand Echo From Esoterica! How delightful. He saw my Martha Lipton review in which I pointed out a fact regarding his reviews and thought I was slamming him. Poor dear. Oh well, check out his lovely email to me with my reply following it below. Can you say "time out in the corner"?

Date: Wed, 28 Jan 2004 18:31:22 -0500
From: "Keith Hannaleck" [reviews4u@muzikreviews.com] [add to address book] [protect or block sender]
Subject: Please Forward This Jason Thompson
Reply To: "Keith Hannaleck" [reviews4u@muzikreviews.com>]

Hey Thompson,

I read your lovely review of Ms. Lipton's music. Ya know what? Its pretty sad you have to mention another reviewer's particular taste in a review, I have never heard such a thing! Is your life such a dismal waste that you have to put down another writer just because they happen to find value in something you don't? That is a very short sided view of life don't you think? Did you ever think that the music you listen to and review may be crap in someone else's eyes? Think about it before you slam me or anyone esle again will ya? There is a positive life that is available out there, perhaps you should seek it.

Keith "MuzikMan" Hannaleck
-------------------------------------------
Date: Wed, 28 Jan 2004 20:53:55 -0500
From: "Jason Thompson" [add to address book] [protect or block sender]
Subject: Re: Please Forward This Jason Thompson
Organization: Lycos Mail (http://www.mail.lycos.com:80)
To: "Keith Hannaleck"[reviews4u@muzikreviews.com]

Hey MuzikMan,

Thanks for tuning in to Echo From Esoterica. Glad you enjoyed the write up. Sorry to single your poor taste out, but that's how it goes sometimes. I mean, hey if you like really bad karaoke pop, I can't help you there. I would say take a couple taste pills, but I don't think they have invented 'em yet, so all I can suggest is you take a couple really deep breaths, ponder the hilarious fact
that you as a fellow music critic got worked up by another critic and just relax. Breathe in....breathe out....ahhh, much better.

I know that there must be plenty of people out there who have opinions that what I think is good is shit, but that's ok. They're opinions. Everyone's got one. I know...you might be ready to pop that "opinions are like assholes" cliche, but that's ok, no need. I just call 'em as I see 'em, Keithy boy. If you didn't like my opinion, I
hope you feel better now that you got it off your chest by putting me in my place. How holier than thou of you. I'm going to keep writing them, though. It's what people love about Echo From Esoterica. The fact that we say what we feel...or that I say what I feel. No asskissing where it's not warranted, no sterile "safe" reviews. If something sucks, it sucks. I'm sure you've heard plenty of shit that you didn't like. If Lipton is your bag of Gravy Train, more power to you.

You'd think someone in your position would love to get a little more publicity, but I guess not. You took it a little personally, I think. All I said was "MuzikMan" often loves garbage I can't stand and gave this diseased pile five stars. It's a fact. You do give a lot of shit I don't much praise. I didn't direct any insults toward you, so stop with the ego overload. The review was about Lipton, not you. But hell, if you want me to review you, I could. Could be intersting. Critics reviewing the critics.

Anywho, keep reading 'em and I'll keep writing them. I know I'm doing a job well done when I get a reaction like this, however silly it may be. Really man, get a grip. No one "slammed" you. What I pointed out was a fact, plain and simple. If you can't handle that, then stop writing.

Cheers, pooky.

Your best pal at EFE,

Jason Thompson

Hotpoint

Chapter Nineteen

awake from the darkness. Lain down on nasty cots with musty smells. Pulled Me from out of the old drawer. Didn’t know I still had it in me. The Fire. Kinda like a rusty Hinge that doesn’t want to stop squeaking. I’ll Feed Myself then and get on with it.

Lest we forget…I was down at Tulane the other day going on about Bernard. What the fuck was Kovacs thinking, anyway? I want to be that genius, that master of originality. you should read and be in awe. You should fuck me for The Words.

sam sighs Blue. HE inhales and exhales B l u e. I used to. Now it’s all turned a violent red. we used to hang out by the drug store and shoot the shit about how it used to be. Funny, that’s all we ever talked about. how it Used To Be. for some reason we have this fascination with our Memories and more often than not choose to live in them, even if they are most Grotesque. And we wonder why we’re not happy.

Cut down to the bone, just make the skin bleed and look at how the bugs crawl out and form a table under your Table. Setting up dinner, waiting for the Rats to come over and puke all over the placemats, as if to invite the flies. Flies on shit, flies on dead eyes. Swirling around in the Giant Sky like a deep dark Cloud. Fear flies.

can’t stop thinking of that damn table in that old kitchen. She had all those funny little glasses. The one with the road sign on it, the ones that were just former jelly jars. the NUTS TO YOU nutcracker. trying to feel the nuts in the sac and wondering which kinds they were. Were they those evil Brown ones, or something tasty like an almond?

Joe choked on Spinnaker. He wanted to sex Sally, in her leather..or vinyl skirt. Whichever it was, it had a profound Effect on him. She didn’t wear panties, and well, it did form fit her ass to a T. He often envisioned himself slipping his hands under and getting them trapped there against the cheeks of her ass and having to walk around all day behind her in an obscene scene until she took it off. But perhaps she never would take it off, so he’d have his hands grafted to her ass for eternity.

Which led him to think that If That ever Happened, he could always move in to her Ass. Just take up residence. Clean her wastes out…take out the trash, so to speak. he Figured that she’d be Quite Pleased with the whole situation. Unless of course, having someone living in your Ass isn’t quite enjoyable. Then perhaps he could move further south and bury himself in her pussy.

But enough of That. We’re here to learn, children, we’re here to forsake school and college and to Hell with all that. Aren’t we? Well I never made it through, so why should you. waste a decade or so trying to get a cosmic degree for something you can'’ get. Money, children, it's All Money. Use that money for better things. Like moving into an Ass.



Guy moves in, Guy moves out. “What a waste of BUCKS!” my neighbor said in mock NY-ese. Can’t figure out if that dude is really northern or not. he certainly is Tan though. always sitting out THERE roasting in the 96 degree sun, with his vitalis soaked hair trying to cover up that BALD SPOT. I think the fellow neighbors should take up a Collection forever banning him from exposing his greasy chest to Us ever Again.

no one complains where the walls aren’t paper thin. You can rock all night or fuck or scream or just make noise in general and no one bitches. It’s a nice concept…one finally Fully Realized.

Sometimes you start playing with Trouble, and Trouble likes this, and Clings to You. Trouble always wants company. trouble is most sweet. trouble is a box of Death, but we open It anyway. Trouble makes lonely nights seem like finer nights and Trouble makes your pain Double. Double…say it like dey say it in dat song, mon. Sing it like dey sing it.

I retract verbose. Touch Me when I play With the Cheese. someday we’ll all move into that giant Ass in the Sky. Satan has no Ass. he just has that prick-nose which he buries in Mrs. Jones. How incredibly awful. porno never ceases to Fascinate me. What with all of its shit just laying on the line. look at that! you say, look at that! People doing things you just didn’t need to see. is the female ejaculatory myth really worth filming? Are cum-soaked faces really worth a close up?

the Penis is the Ugliest thing on the Planet. And I was born with one, so I am forever scarred. the Penis is Evil. The Penis is Divine. Friend Penis, Kind Penis, Penis of Magnitude, Penis of Murder, Penis of Paris.

Gag me down a soft cloth, Kaspar. take me out to the limelight and let me sit In It. I want to live There. I want to feel Loved. I want to be a part of You. how I ache to only make you happy, make you love me more. I forget how Hazy it all is, until I am caught behind Sarah’s gauze. I forget I’m myself. she doesn’t mind though. she thinks I’m just OK, which is just ok with me.

and really, that’s all that matters right now…

Hotpoint

Chapter Eighteen

You stop and you STOP for awhile and you get some kind of Idea that this thing will finish itself, even though you know IT isn’t TRUE. look in the Mirror and say it Is True and you can go far. maybe down two flights of stairs though when I typed that it came out twe, thus making me want to type twenty. I STUCK with my ORIGINAL THOUGHT. is This Exposition? blind, perhaps. Exposition, yes.

walk. walk. My fingers stumble where my feet cannot run. well, yes. you live that aftermath you switch it off let it run through your fingers, cascading down triumphant hallways into a glitterati glitter zone of fabulous chaos. Let the others mourn your passing and weep over your coolness and your asshole-like qualities. Conniving and mundane dropped thee spatula.

STRIPPED, I’m THINKING. well now that is a glass of fortitude which I cannot repay at a later date. why must I, why must I place structure into a chaotic semblance of imbalance and grey speckled fucking eels which lay upon rot opulence and mermaid. Mermaid frozen. mermaids frozen by chance left to die in a calm sea of salt, take the light jerry and feel thy way to a fingered succulent dining hall oh fabulous I found the TRIGGER. fuck you.

FIGURE IT OUT. Walk down to Castille and there is Lamb’s bakery best rolls you ever tasted everyone knows that. See Sully in the back winking at pretty women he has the life all men want. winks at pretty women starlight lounge types, you remember down in Florida with the neon sign. Had a cool martini glass shaped in neon bulb bent into your future dipped into your past. You won’t Forget that now will you. the glass beckoning to older years which you were yet to experience. Young youth and naïveté encapsulated in that sign no doubt long since gone yet the memory remains to comfort. Starlight Lounge. And Disney World.

riding home and listening to captain jack and the night filled with memories of the rides and laughter and mystery. the things life loses when you become 18. remember 16.

Remember 16 and the Love you had. remember 16 and the silliness of high school and the craziness of it all. catch your breath and sigh it out sigh it out sigh it out three times there’s no overload watch fob stopping the era you just lost touch with it all. Not your fault you grew old, that’s just LIFE.

Keep thinking to Yourself. ohhhh she was a fine fuck a fine woman that you never had just dreamt her up in your head and she kept you company. 16 it was easy. 16 was all romantic and love and sex? well what the hell was that? talk a good game with the guys be true to the girls open up and admit love. Open up and talk all night on the phone like You did. Talk to her every night. got excited. could smell her in the spring breeze in the evening. crickets chirping and her whisper taking you way out of Town down the road and into a field.

to Be Lost. to Love. to wake up. Good times gone. Good Times Arrive. like a train in the night which you never had the thrill of riding. She called just as much as you called her. The memory remains. The reality is different. still evening drives through your old haunts in your home town bring back all those memories. bittersweet. You can’t be 16 again. Perhaps when you die you will feel that magic again. To be 16, to be unstoppable, the whole World there. There there. 16 and young. 16 and decadent. 16 and willing.

Find Joy. Find Life. Find 16 in the things you do daily. Get back in TOUCH with 16. 16 was therapy and faux suicide. 16 was fun. fake sand from florida it was black you gave one to beth and one to carmen along with a collapsible cup which said florida on it. so it all Began.

Scratch time out.

16 was suicide.

it’s ok to hesitate and pause. to think.

everything that used to be new holds a special Memory. When you say oh it was good back then but now it’s all different. the ONLY THING that is different is your AGE. Times shall only reflect the youth’s need for new THINGS. you get left behind in the meantime unless you’re foolish enough to stay 21. and 21 was death.

Hotpoint

Chapter Seventeen

cut scene to stop lift party transit on a five and dime budget. No one gets the greasy so simply by asking for it. You go Down there and listen to the buzz of opera and fetish unlike those that had come before ye. those Who know all too well, those who come in mannequins and maniacal like. Web footed trouser snakes going for the jugular and letting up with the rise and sparkle of opium dens circa 1920.

Caustic flatulence spreads like a gecko downing a butterfly in a bramble bush. Briar thorns and acquiescence lie in the filthy gutters of obsolete mimicry. I can only be forlorn about the thought forthwith spent on a cheap hamburger and tossed into the dens of hungry feeble lions. Spotted lioness seduces the maxim of Thought and I am touched in a tranquil gazebo, yes, that is the thought wreaked upon Reykjavik.

minotaurs spawn forth minutiae that resembles a corn husking convention down in Rotterdam. That thinking, or moreover that kind KIND of thinking leads you to plowshares of an indisputable unrefutable magnitude. Platitude and Necronomicon and playing around with the fizz. they sway to the groove of paramour and ostensibly lay firm the thought that all is mink and caustic casual. Casually caustic. Redeem coupons clipped here. Dear.

Open scene a red room lit by lamplighters and nude women swaying upon a stage waiting to be ridiculed and sodomized by whomever wishes to Decree It Upon Them So. Rapers eating opulent rotten raspberries and string beans enter into a cornucopia of pleasure and Hell. For what is Heaven but child’s play, a pandemonium symposium of horticulture and hottentot. Placate placemats and cerebral hemorrhage. I cannot lisp quietly.

junk culture. they, THEY T H EY R I O T riot riot for It down on 7th and Pearl. Goddamned whiskey frumps all slumped over from the night before’s last vigil, looking onward to sense the death that is deadness and evil. vigilantes spurned on by grotesque corpulent bastards of neon bulbous assholes that can do no better than to squawk on about squonks. Bastard sheep? Them? hardly. Handled hardly. Ever take a handle and dig it like the way they do in Jersey under lamplit bourgeois bastions of Barclay? C’mon jack, one trip’s enough in these old bones.

Splice Scene to where the boy has seduced Frisky Murphy from afar and she sits in the paradigm of afterglow and Suppository spunk. how did they get this far? was it worth the dime that come to cost as all. sure It was. She held the promise of excitement and well, he being the bastard of Faith knew all too well that playing the Devil’s Advocate had many fine perks, such as Playing God when no one else could. Funny, that. pleasing too.

There used to be this joint that was around of my brother’s teenage years. it was called Pleze’s Drive-In. when I was smaller I remember driving by the Joint and I swore up and down that I was gonna be the next Kid eating at Pleze’s and digging Times Gone By. too bad that they closed shop before I ever got a chance to. Oh well.

Jimmy, Jimmy Jimmy Jism Jam James Junkophiliac come verboten and sprawled like a spawn of Innocence corpulating corpuscles in Simone. Hot and tawdry Simone, lapping it all up like some new found clay. What was it about her that made the Day seem New again? Couldn’t be her rags she claimed as clothes. couldn’t be the stench of vomit she claimed as perfume. Must be those shoes. but then again, she never wore shoes, so who’s to know, eh?

come down here from Parker’s Grove and you live on Parker and 5th and that’s dandy, ‘cause I once had this bastard friend that lived up your way and he sang songs of Trains and Shit and he’d smile and you’d recall St. Louis on those beautiful rainy days getting soaked out by the tracks and waiting for your lover to arrive. Can’t say I don’t miss those times myself.

sweet Innocent Anna left alone by her brothers and rapist mother came down from Carolina to spend Summers in verboten strength with paramours of all descents bending her ear left and right. Did it matter that she had no knees? Nay for she had much more strength in that she would never had to grime up her knees whilst begging.

THEY COME DOWN HERE in fortuna and flameglass and fiberglass and FRAULINES spit at DRUNKARDS, those CONNIVING SONS OF BITCHES have it all over the semaphore addicts. They run down to the trains and stop for vodka and cheap black soul that no one remembers, save for the bell tollers. Can’t handle a job like that Jack. Can’t be blissed out by that godDAMNED SASQUatch film again...was it really a dude or was it really a fucking hairy as hell ugly ass ape? I wanna know to this day and yet we’ll never have a fucking explanation.

Cranberry street is the place to go when you’re talking of toxins that need to be detox’d and ossified down to their nebulous selves. can’t get close than a jack off shop on 4th. Well whadda want you freak? I can’t splay out a bitch like that in camaraderie and reverie such as the kind you sell. My wallet is not even close to being that fat, motherfucker. Fuck you, you shitbag.

No one’s got the jump on me. No one’s got the act down quite so pat. They THEY THEY THEY tell me ME M E that I spelled CAPITAL I will be famous one a these days. crippled bastards lying in their own shit will praise ME just like I was the next to the second coming of blasphemous freak torture sodomizing the funky rapture of negligence IN BERMUDA. THEY WRAP ME IN SACK CLOTH, is it any WONDER ANY WONDER any wonder at all that I am FAT, you ass cheese?

I walked to no make that 2 TWO blocks for a pint of scotch and malt liquor and still do not understand where Bermuda cloth comes from. Lemme write that down in my paper pad here. There we go. formica Bitch tellin me all about the transistors and things watching me from my typewrite, that ain’t the way to be, girl.

Hotpoint

Chapter Fifteen

Frayed tat and moralizing generic general generalities? Say, is that such a word? walk down to Garbo’s and have a slice of that supreme slice. Supreme slice. S-L-I-C-E. I wake up and drown myself in eunuch fantasy left to the bone by forgotten lass in a dream of milk and intestinal agony.

watch this. you got the money, right? you got it all laid out, right? this is IT then. Don’t make me watch through spindly hands. I want to see it ALL for myself. I do NOT want to miss Out. This is what I have waited for. I have paid to see lesser things and this time it is all Free.

Cara steps loosely out of the tent and walks upon the stage with diamonds glittering off her dress. she waves to the camera and to the orchestra pit. She lifts her gown and shows the expected leg. whistles from horny men too drunk to get laid in the far reaches of the audience. she winks and wiggles her smooth ass out into the spotlight and begins singing one of those irritating tunes that you would say only a DIVA would croon.

a diva she is, right? I mean you look at That and notice she is the All. All in this city. she owns us, she has us in the palm of her pale hand and she caresses us with her fat fingers and fucks us with money. it’s all so simple, rodney. Don’t you know a good thing when it peers into those little eyes of yours?

anyway, I was down at Schiff’s and Mr. Grandeur was babbling on about this radio he made that picks up non frequencies. he was trying to sell us on the idea. Look it’s great, he yells while jumping up and down and pounding his fists onto the formica. why would I shit you? YOU of all people, my best friends in this whole greasy fucked up roach of a city?

He points wildly as his eyes bug out as if they were going to explode and roll around looking for some good food. This is the best goddamned radio ever made. yes but what good are non frequencies? I can’t listen to the shadow on something like that. white noise isn’t to my liking, Joe.

YOU BASTARDS he screams, knocking over the straw dispenser and exposing himself to the hot southern wind that blows through as regularly as the twelve-ten. Can’t you dig listening to something NEW and IMPROVED over all that other shit you like so much? Who gives a rat’s about the fuckin’ Shadow and that crap called gangbusters? You think I dig that rot? No way man, I am into the science and extravaganza of REAL RADIO.

we just look around and then order another phosphate and get on with the day, leaving Grandeur to his Black Jack and Camels screaming at some poor old woman who came in for a high colonic. Yes but this is the way things go in the big city.

we catch a train after buying some Smokies and look at all the buildings rush by in the dusk light. I realize it’s all fermented, this juice i’ve been drinking lately. it’s funny, as I seem to find that I have a new friend living inside my stomach and He so often wants to come out and say hello, or scream out tunes by Basie and the like. I try to quiet the thing down, but he makes me burp and embarrass myself whenever I am trying to feel up some dolly down on the corner.

He tastes rancid, like pukey phlegm. he’s all fuzzy and warm and has hands that reach down and try to arouse me when I’m not looking. It’s a funny situation to be in to be sure. That shore am say Stymie and I am a Fan of the utmost pronounced principal. No they can’t take that away from me.

Glenn Ford and rockefeller and samsung and benmont tension paralegal walk me to my car and feel me frisky. I want nothing more than to LOVE the oasis pavilion so deeply inscribed by causeway manufacturing of filth and remnants of underwear. find the cause. Causeway.

rest assured it’s so grandiose, this spectacle of wine and sex. I crawl down and forth to the phoenix and sun rose to the rhythm of someone choking on a bermuda submarine sandwich smoking cigars and talking about how good it is. all the while that cigar smoke causes him to spit Black and lose sanity and Connections with the World of Ruga. Say that SL-OW-LY. it’s not a dare, it’s merely a suggestion.

Rats get DOWN and die and breed and suffocate the same systematics that we divide by zero and take so for granted. I still see her smile and frivolous action feverishly fribulate defribulation. I am the sun. the t I o n of grammatical noize and warfare, I am the pam them am that shore am. flake down and free. That is no spinach causing mockery of a sham. I like pez. so sue me

CRIPPLED FREAKS says the sign. get WIGGY AND WILY FOR ONLY THREE DIMES AND A FRUMPISH SILO FIXED ANYWAY YOU LIKE IT, YOU DIG?

Hotpoint

Chapter Sixteen

well, ok. Gee, that was kind of funny. How the Tape ran out there, when you were in the middle of such a nice Story. Anyway, if you’d like me To, I’d like To refresh the listeners here that We are now chatting with Ms. frisky Murphy. Frisky Mur-pha. Yeah, and she, well, yeah, she has been entertaining me with stories of her ummm..well, I’m kind of shy to say. she’s a...stripper, isn’t that right? yes? I said isn’t that right, Frisky? That You are a Stripper? yes...yes! yes, she is a stripper.

I get the feeling that sometimes you just kind of like to stare out that window there. Yes, and , well, yes I do like those boots you are wearing. where Did you get Those? Raymond’s? Oh I must get down there and see him work. he is amazing, isn’t he? Say, did you go up to 8th and Turner and watch Shep sell those crazy oysters..no wait, they weren’t oysters, they were crabs...yeah

and my eyes trail across the party into the darkest corner of the corner. You Know there’s Always someone There. T H E R E. Right There. Between Now and Never. Yesterday and Forgotten Tomorrow. she’s all wrapped in green flourescent plastic and has that eyeliner caked on a little too thick. can’t take girls like that. can’t Make Calls to Girls like That. T H A T, baby.

Splendor Johnson walks over and asks if I wanna pull her taffy. no Wait, that is, she asks if I wanna go to a taffy pull. Or on a hayride, or something like that. How can I possibly be prepared right now when i’m so Paranoid? I got the shakes baby, and I got the paranoia. Mr. Scary’s crept up on my back and is looking in my Ears with a liTTLe Flashlight. it’s running on some of those cheap Ray-O-Vac things that I used to put under my armpit and go...ouch! these are really painful..but ahhh, those eveready’s sure soothe your skin. Weird.

Buenos Noches, copen Taco, saccharine sugar and pasty felines. Unnnnnnh. I only Locked myself out of the cupboard one time. And I never did it Again. A G A I N. Crazy. I Was trying to Hide from that Black Spot on the carpet, but it was no use. it could even find me in the cupboard. So imagine my FEAR when I couldn’t even get in there. No, I was left up there to face It on the countertop. Nuts, baby.

the train she runs lightly on dark rails and stainless steel bridges. That’s the only way to go, right? Say it is, say it is the WAY TO GO. I can’t get THERE by car anyway. Don’t have enough gas and my tires are over inflated. Have to have Jerry come over and suck some of the air out. makes me all high and weak when I see him go down on a tire. makes me wish I wasn’t human. Maybe I’m not. I can Only go so Far.

I know this guy. his name is Babet Earl. and all of his buddies call him the Earl of Early. bastard is always late, you know. can’t even ever call and say that he’s going to be. he was even late for his first sexual encounter. he came and didn’t even notice, then felt the orgasm some days later as he was slicing Into a fresh pumpernickel.

cut some wine, pour some cheese. we have the Goods right here. It’s not what you say that counts, but the intonation of the Consonants and how they juxtapose and dance madly with any remaining numerals. Carry the remainder, baby. make me feel like it’s worth something When you get so low down into that funk of the rotten priest. He has nothing to say. dogs clamber up the steps clunky clunk clunk. stU sits in His kitchen in nothing but a dirty Apron and complains that the dishwater is not tepid enough. So he squats over the sink and pisses into it. he says he’s getting a bit saggier every day. I can only Imagine what That must be Like.

When you trip upon words and they all become so analyzed like the wayward winds and you cannot smell the Salt of Scrutiny anymore, well that’s when it is TIME TI ME T I ME to go down and get some of that bacon I was telling you about. yeah you know the one, that kind that gets all fat and salty and you need to drink it down with some cheap wodka. listen to me, There’s no Way outta THIS T H I S sham. Grapple with that if you dare, dear freak.

Emma and Pauline Shakey do their best to outwit the Freak. They never succeed, they merely suck. tried those salted pumpkin seeds yet? me neither. I’m think One could Probably open up a canary shoppe and combine it with one of those fuckin’ HEALTH FOOD JOINTS that does so well anymore. yeah gimme some of those honey glazed sesame whatever the fuckers you call em. look like you could feed em to a bird and it wouldn’t mind. Shit, my cat would not even touch that SHIT. not kidding you Dave, this has just gotten out of hand and gone way toooooo Far, babe.

LEFTOVERS! WE got em, right there. can’t succumb to something that Droll, tho man commas creeping in like a sleepy sunrise. can’t have that now can we. I rotted down on the jism of cat fights and sleeplessness only to be fraught by grains of despair and trauma, you can say that again!

Hotpoint

Chapter Fourteen

Claustrophobic and knot-tied down on the verges of being New Hampshire. Explain that to the plain clothes policeman. They think they have all that jive down in the far east of Nova Scotia. feel placid amongst daffodils and lightweight complexities that mark chagrined names like caterpillars down and deep into black moistness. you know what I’m talking about.

served Peach Ice Cream to the masses down on Trevor Ave. they thought it was golden Honey. they thought it was the Essence of Magnolia. they thought it was the Most. What is the Most. can we possibly dissect the Most? I want to try to explain what It is in relation to a theory I once heard Mr. Spinozza come up with a few summers back in Detroit.

The Most is most charming. The most is many Millions. Make it or break it. the philosophy of incandescent frivolous med student majors in philanthropy and west side story nuances. You can’t escape the Most. It’s this or that, been there or here, false and pure, pretense and abject nuance. Escape fleck of bullion consistency of natter egg philosophy. Beat it down with any hammer. It is not that difficult.

can you make ends meet in the Middle? The Middle is the Opposite of the MOST. Except for the meandering and yearning fact that the Middle does not know it is the Opposite of the most. Play strands down lightly and fierce into jungle tundra wasteland percentages not costly to those in Denmark. Fu Manchu Operatives in Indonesia and Indochina. They all play down lightly like there is no Middle. How Wrong They Are.

I freelanced for awhile down by the Bay of Bismuth. That’s on the red bank near Cosley and kensington. It feels like dew, but is really soft feathers waiting to be tossed down by legions of skinny boys who know no better than to interlude upon the affairs of cheap wine and effervescent pneumonia. I strangled Keys down there. He was trying to convince me that he had it all Sold out, baby. He was goin’ baby, he was goin’.

pembroke watch strap and sixty-nine fleeced by the autonomous wenches of aberdine and L’Aberdine. She felt like a whore coerced into shaving her back against cinder blocks and begging for sex on Tuesday mornings. Coffee bled from her veins and she stiffed em all. She played ferocity and indigo, murky shattered frays of forlorn madness and sycophants down to the noodle. That is, she left Maine with no thoughts of looking Forward. It’s that simple. She keeps telling herself to this day that there is one beside that Thought.

When One realizes that Simone is outweighed by aboriginal documentation, they Soon give UP. why they laid waste to five dollars of inconsequential nightfall is beyond the everlast. fleeing fright and denouncement. Denouement. Flax and germ fill that pharmacy like Vinny shoots by in five bars. you can hear Him sing on Wheeler. That’s a laugh, I hear them cry out all the time. It’s not In the way of passion, its merely a casual causal bystander waylaid into opportune moments. Moments of Silence. Moments In Love.

and Vargas girls are Catholics and should be sham rod and fleeced with vagabond lust. You have no right to bemoan the tragedy of inconsequence. I feel those charm fill up a lot of money. In Dozier and filigree to fifth. a fifth of gin. vodka, rum, coke, sifter, sifted sugars into that almighty wretch. We love her so.

I trust seizures I contemplate and work myself into stiff migraines of angst and bewilderment. I fantasize taking women in their skirts against cement blocks and ripping their lace blouses into shreds. Neon purple blood oozes from their flesh and I roll in the mud of evermore left forgotten by filthy men in rich overcoats buying out the five and dime on Trencher Street at four in the morning.

lest we be verbose and forgotten. lest we be left off the chow wagon when it Comes. Comes down swiftly and leaves me feeling felt up like a laundromat in time and space. Natter energy felixing my moon. That’s not RIGHT! Free your penis from the straining pants and let it throb in the cool air, relaxing down to nothingness. Then notice a second later it springs back.

Unzip and throb freely again. no matter, you must masturbate it away. pull and push upon the flesh like a Madman retrieving the airwaves for a last gasp of sulfur and indio oxide regions of spleen. no one can escape the malady of jerking it for no reason other than to Let it Go.

I got five bucks down on Mrs. Bermuda at the library. she has the MOST in the MIDDLE. she has it where you want It. she has the Need. and no roads meet where the Need is in the MIDDLE, especially when the NEED is with the MOST. for the need is never with the most, nor is it ever in the middle, thus roads are never leading to the Need. You just think that they are. It is all a sacrificial lie though.

work myself into a violent frenzy and get down with the get down. It’s good. Let me unzip now...ahh yes..the THROB. I have it all there, you can see it. I feel it is necessary to explain it all away even if you may wince in disgust and find it quite unpalatable. I am not writing this for YOU. it is only my EXPERIENCE which Brings me HERE. Not forthwith standing amok on Chinese rails of pearly dew and resonance so stiffly tied into that effigy of christ-like protrusions.

I walk away from all the grandiose textures of that dally down day. Day-glo moments. Father figure rusting in an open breadbasket of rotting foil and fish meat. sell yourself short. it’s like going down in a turkey field and getting it on with the AIR. air is there to be had. feel it and smell that air. funky.

there is no pretense for vile misconduct in america. there is no train leaving the canal at five-thirty in the morning. I cannot zone this space for a commercial plot. it is ridiculous to think I could. I shall not spare the rod and fuck the child. I will not disobey my obedience. we will not win any denominational influenza march for the grace of grandiose moments in space and or time. Leave me loving.

Trash on pork egg rolls is the last straw. Those Chinese always leave me wanting more. I fuck massage parlor bitches on hammocks in muddy avenues and leave them pregnant with wanton sex. They beg for more and I give it to them. I do not disappoint.

you can find them working in laundromats and butcher shops in the back room...they taste the semen before you even enter the door. I capitulate at the thought of basking in a dewy smog and reeling in Frau Xia Shi’ang’s boudoir while she makes money off of poor rich beggars lined up in the streets waiting for the zeal of veal cutlets. I fuck her hard and work it over like a pygmy shrew. just like a donkey. just like an asshole.

SCARCITY flashes on the neon light. Vomit stained waitresses are frank and put you down as they fill your cups. There is no cancer overload. Be gone from the strains of drachma. Leave it up to niners. They enjoy it like backwash and singapore sunsets into the trash can. fuck it all. I am no weary sucker.

Hotpoint

Chapter Thirteen

you pretend that this is a career. you like to Pretend. It’s all just like rain falling down on a spider’s abdomen and streaking off in all directions, finally soaking into the ground. And just think of all those Hairs. I try not to.

wake up, woke up, waking up with all this life and foundation of mediocrity and unity. Jill, Jill, I dreamt of you and your song was playing and I massaged your face and was instantly in amour with your lovely skin. such Details. We usually leave them out, but Jill was just like her picture. one of those never-ending Situations. you know, of course, that it had to End.

I like filigree and circumstance. feeling unwashed and unilateral to the day. We have but one Art here and that is common language, yet no one ever speaks It correctly. Doesn’t matter. I can get whatever I need downtown on any given day on any given hour. it’s that Simple. Simple simple! Mrs. Moore my seventh grade english teach would always say that. we used to call her Saggy Cheeks because, well, she had these wrinkles in her cheeks that made them look saggy. Must I explain everything to you, or will you one day see what it all Means?

getting back to Jill. Wow. what an impression she made. an indelible appearance on my mind and I woke up with that fresher than any spring breeze capitulating into stardust and sea breeze. She is the essence of whatever Nothing it is I can find today. see her face in the windows of big buildings and remember just how she looked with her face upside down and her eyes closed. one of these days.

Can I get touched here? can it do me no harm? I only want to be transfixed by my dreams in reality. Still, I am in awe every time I walk down that street in the middle of Everything. They call it cool, and I agree. Cool it Is. for once in my small pithy life I have found the Cool, and it does envelop me like a long lost embrace from a lover you only ever imagined would be so good. Let me slip far away into this and let it be me and me only to transfuse the neglect of charm and witty scarcity that makes men the shit beasts that they all are. I love it.

Prose lingers on and smoke rises from ashen dirt and well Dance to that tune on Spock’s zither. Rock it out Nimoy, you shiny haired freakoid. Translucent those days all are. sitting in a hammock in the back yard and swinging in the blue day with that silly nylon jacket on and really enjoying things for once. you remember times like those, you live for them in the timorous of yesterday. can it get better? no, those are the Perfect Times. Those are the alabaster monkeys swept out to sea in a languid basis of love. See them wave to you. cigars, cigarettes? ahh yes.

I can only get so far as the back burner and then it’s all lights out for the scheme. The Scheme. I have no real Definition for the Scheme other than that I know it isn’t really all that Important. We try to make it big and wise, but really it’s just a bunch of tendrils looking for food along the murky dark depths of the black ocean. Such menace and sobriety brings only lust and affected spoonsful of variety in its purest form.

Don’t look out for This. I cannot speak for the Others, but here we are rapidly growing into sex emotion and caustic extravaganza. I like peels. Orange peels. you can put them in your room and have a natural air freshener. It’s cool. Nothing like the smell of citrus in the morning to get you all up and at em. Get out of that trash can, Sellers. Sellers, no, get down from there dammit.

to keep a child and Cat is just a bitch. It’s too much trouble and I swing for the parrot. Fucker sings all day and I only have to feed him when he gets the tune right. He likes those little honey sesame sticks that they make in those god awful health food joints. honey sesame and sunflower seeds and Vitamins. Eat those damned Vitamins. there’s so many for so many cures. think about it though. How many of Us actually have those illnesses all those vitamins can cure? Oh here’s rosehips for rubella and zinc carbonate for Achy Palms. mmhmm...medicine man makes a fast buck.

Trace down back through the summer lawn and get laid in all the glory of all out of school summertime. Don’t have to go back for 3 months. Ain’t that just the shit? sit back and enjoy it, for it’s gone all too soon. No one loves a summer that doesn’t last, so etch your beautiful memories on amusement park rides and oceans. On love and looking into that someone’s eyes. let it rest in the arms of the angels who love you the most. summer is for fun. summer is for all those times you couldn’t have done it before. Swimming pools and sprinklers. Popsicles and ice cream and laughs and music and friends. I want it to be again.

I want to look out over that salty horizon and feel complete again. I want to be in love and just give it all away. It’s that good.

Hotpoint

Chapter Twelve

circle your finger in the air. i feel it cool like feeling that like that like i do. do do you know ya do. that flip sandwich babe it is all the goat the get you get get it fast this is a SALE. let me tell you that THIS my friend, my love my watchtower is a SALE of the yarn mind cmon now step lively step lightly turn on that light that LIGHT! LIGHT!

White cracked painted room with moths and that one bare yellow clear light bulb swinging back and forth from the ceiling. they used to smoke down in there and talk dirty and do spooky things. those Greasy guys. They'd laugh all night long and Smell bad. it was horrible. Talking dice and throwing cards all over. those dice were cracked just like the walls. paint 'em on down Charlie. let me love ya for a dime. and a dame.

Synco symptomatic pap tatic like a lip man there we go sing dally down we have five feet of love for everyone here in line. Gotta taste that taste fine Charlie feel felix flax shlaps and rixeeron. god quote it Jim quote it like there's no tomorrow.

we were watching 'em all wig out down by the tourist. scared it like tapioca through crumbling laughs and fey knots pall. polished. appalled. fright! yes? oh yeah we have that, c'mon in and yes that way.

They pulled the blind down in the front door window and led him back to the Yellow. It was all scary and it smelled like mustard plasters and there was that guy screaming his head off for dirt. they fed it to him. He said he wanted to feel the wrappers they wrap sausage in. he did. he went five times madder if you can believe That. Let me let go of it baby.

I got the feel there. we can hot wax the cuddle five down funk man that forthright and we shall See. Don't gimme that jack, Jack don't fear the street out there. it's all hot and heady and we can walk it all night long just like they do down at Miller's. and we can Be just like Miller's. They sell the best booze there. It's black in there and we buy blackberry flavored booze and baby it all just goes dark so fast after that, you just can't stop it.

I'm in an tizzy. Let me feel that Now. Smoke 'em all up babe, let me reciprocate your foul life and language of love very in that way yes babe I can feel you Tax me taxing time on that junk way out in LeDelco Harbor past the stringed men and their fat ways. Try me not for that but baby we can get some lean cuts of meat down at Harry's yeah it's definitely the best.

Ii heard it drag right there man. don't try to hide that fact from me. It is a Fact. I am not condescending to you, you little flak puppy. we can wheel the cheese on in to the room now if you like. I will do it for you if that is what you Want.

Listen now, children here is the story of one Mr. Clausy and we all know He is an idiot of fine caliber and we all want him to feel welcome with the legs and dregs of Sedgbo here, now don't we? Horn players, start that blaring and we will all get down with It and not be somber and so toned tonality for anyone.

get caught in the coffee factory and run like you can get it all out. It's easy Jack. it's easy arrive with it man you can arrive with it FAST BABY. shit, and i'm trying to lick my chops now and get it all ready for ya just like you asked for it. gotta get it now!

race it baby, get cooly and fontaine and we got it it right there it it it it and and and and i know it's gonna be HOT. H O T HOT BABY. When ya gonna trust me on this one I'm doing it all for you. for you babe. open that coat up and lemme see the goods. lemme see that Squelcher you said you got and I want it hot now. Now is the Hot baby, let me have the Now.

Rest rightly. rightly rest. righty. feel more like the pores in downy dew and drops cannot parlay the victory and viceroy! eat those candy cigarettes. it's all down to nothing. and we can say that again and again. play that basketball in the church parking lot no over by there it's probably not even there anymore. make me a bet that it Is and i will prove to You that it Is not.

clip the coupons. look and that newsprint. man, babe, it's all so Clear now. i got it right there. rit. rit. we can do can do babe. less is it. less it is. it is it is. izzitis. pills soaked in sarcasm and chasm deep and valley low. mountain high valley low yeah you knew it was coming cause i put that IDEA into your head beforehand. i put it There for safekeeping. don't keep a secret.

Get flushed, Dandy. Danny Dandy. Hijinks. high hijinks flip the crust coin into the Bailey and we got all the roll roll down roll call ray conniff. babe, that's what you said for me to do. i know it all Now.

Hotpoint

Chapter Eleven

Busy street and kids fall down in the brick sun and die. Large fumes choke me and i die. kill the World. Kill and kill. Train will not let go of thought and will not carry you to the last destination. It is Forever Late.

Seep into the street. get dirty with the dirty. want to make me cough and spit. make we. make me want that like i do not want. it is all drachma and overline underline cmon charlie gimme it now i can't stop this thought. It's all too fast, man.

We got it down by the road. Yeah we found it there. you can have some if you get the money. you wouldn't want to miss this Sweet. here, take a smell of It. yeah, doesn't that just fill your mind with dark scary thoughts that you could get Addicted to? me and my friends all love it. we scare the hell out of each other and just sit around and worry about death and why it isn't equatable to sex. let me lie down like a gopher and spit in your face.

She wanders alone and i go up behind her and grab her just like THIS. and she loves it. turns around with that emaciated look and i kiss her hard and i feel her bones turn to dust in my arms and she just crumbles in my fingers and ooh god, i just get off right there. say it influences me. say you know what i'm talking about here.

Mmm, i type and my fingers just melt away into the softness here. fuzzy. gives me the chills. i hate those bitches on tv that try to act all innocent, but in Reality they're kissing each other and feeling each others' tits. And man i hate that. why can't it be me.

Larry, Lawrence, whatever, let's walk down there and you tell me that shot of bourbon is the best. yeah man, i heard ya. you told me and now i gotta have that Taste Sweet. you just shoot me with that liquor and i Divine all over the tap shoes of convalescence and we're into the trip of dining Demure. Let me touch Claudia. Hi elly, know ya two don't get along so well. But i know you love me. you looooove me. cmon take it away from me. There is no innocence in this brain anymore.

find me a stem. find a stem. find a stem and wash it out. no base of my brain tricks either. forfeit it all man. i before e except after c and w and F. f f f. ooh baby why don't you pull down the curtain and teach me what it's all really Like. I can only go as fast as your ideas spring from me.

and my Muse is on my back and pounding away here and i know she needs to be thrown around on the table and just fucked uncannily. it feels right yeah man goes right through my veins she is i before e except after v and sometimes y. when is y a consonant. when it isn't a vowel. but no more of that sometimes y. it's always y and don't you forget that because there's no need in stretching the point any further.

i know you get that diamond look and i know that sharp piercing all too well. polish that off. look at that round reflection and tell me it doesn't disgust you. speak clearly or i can't hear you in the cans. whose called 'em that in Forever? I got it down to nine and there's no stopping influenza like that.

Carry it far. make me a journey and a tomato sandwich. no i think that's disgusting, don't you dare prepare that for me or i will hurt you instantly. now instant coffee creamer. there we go, that's something i can handle from now to Then. freak me with it and watch me just spill on down the page here as we come to a sweet close.

Oh yes. Mmmhh. yes, that's yes that's how they always portrayed her on the lyric sheets or quoting her lyrics. mmhh, mmmh yes. she says it too much maybe. perhaps not though. I don't really care anymore. god and i can all i can all i can only think about is the post hope post hypnotic syndrome End. The End. Baby.

we have time there. here. Here. We go. Here we go. go go dancers in bad green outfits spinning around promising nothing and no you can't touch but their sweat smells so bad you don't want to. it's ok. tell me more about it all in the morning.

can close my eyes and just type away. kinda scary. but i can just let myself go and do it you know. maybe you don't. it's just a neat parlor trick. don't ever name your kid Daphne, 'cause that name sucks and you know it.

Too late to comprehend the sunshine. the sunrise and those biscuits and damn it all a plate of breakfast and orange juice in a glass that needs washing. that's how they'll serve it to you, but you won't really notice it till you're finished and see the ashes in the bottom of your glass. then you'll gag, baby, and slip away into some other fondue dream. let it not be mine.

flash sign flash on and off and carry me to bed and out of here i can all but taste the sweet of the syncopated syndrome syndrome deproxy fuck fight and flee and fright and fridge and shift and shit shift shit and shift shit. i like it all and i will not complain about lard.

looped out in knots and freak. carbo scum ahh i heard that in the background there. someone wasn't too quiet now were they? no. where does that get you? what does that get you? nowhere. nothing. two big no words. i love 'em.

no one races the flu. no one has the time to catch corpses late night at noon and five. that's the time they always give, but it's never ever right. and you know what? i'm not palpitating for another scurvy anymore. i bet you're happy with that decision aren't you. i bet you just love it that i left it all up near fort worth blah i've never been there don't wanna go to texas so i never will.

When will we stop this bleeding. when will We stop this Beating. god feel it beat right there in your thigh. Mmmh, yes. ahh i have it all now. did i catch you by surprise. probably not. i will not refute the Penguin. I will not give it all up to mere chance. no fate, no lost diogenes.

freak.

Hotpoint

Chapter Ten

Karmel, say it once more. it touches me in ways that these memoirs cannot. i try to remember those happy times and your silly face making those eyes at me. We sit here tonight and I hold your hand and i can't help but reminisce. this song always makes me feel like This.

Trenchant. Penchant. Vengeance. Stop my babbling. we can walk down rain soaked sidewalks and laugh about last year. we can do all that and still love now, can't we? i love you like no one else. it's hard not to want to die for you right in your arms at times.

we can sit at the table in your kitchen and i can lose myself in the fluorescent lights and hard tile on your floor and just think about the old radio stations and that late night buzz. poetry readings and funny music. channel 9 news. and those singing bridges. may it all take me to heaven with you. you are my world.

I can get lost in the smell of your clothes and your perfume. and i can lose myself in your eyes and your smile and all that funny naive high school boyishness. no one appreciates that anymore. it makes me sad to think that kids these days just don't give a damn for the nicer things about life. they just want to cry for no reason. not me.

i am confused here. the words escape me.

Hotpoint

Chapter Nine

open like scattershot decibels in the snow. Veer off in no Tomorrow like there is none. let me Be the One who says Yes. Let me be the one who rides down your smile into a wave of tranquillity and serenity as yet unheard of.

Touch is trusted. Trust is not Touching. We do not trust unwanted touching. we have no need for such designs. Designs. Design your face upon mine. upon Mine. Place it on top of Mine so that we may look as if We are Two. Two are We. I have not yet filled a compromise such as This. I have not let go of all circumstantial evidence bestowed upon me by You.

Say you love me. Say you Love me Forever. forever and a day. let it not be ridiculed. I only ask for your Eternity. Your lifeblood and your utter Essence. Essence of Being. Of Power. Soul. It brings you down, I know. Let me let it let you bring you all down in on somber glow of afterbirth. Let me let it love you, show you from whence it came. Wax nostalgic.

meet me down on Highland Ave. Let me steal away with you in secret and epitomize my lust. Let it be Now. I need the now. Come on, I know you loved me back then. i know it so much. I felt it every single time we talked. whenever we laughed, whenever we criticized the tv. We never argued. I wondered if things had been different if we ever would have. and i still Still get the Jones for you.

you pop up in my dreams at night and I curse the morning when you leave. And I wonder if you have dreamt of me and i wonder if you try to find me and think I am Far away, when in reality I am but mere miles. Well, at least I know this to be true of Us. Still, it's probably better to leave the past in the trash can and not dwell on such subtleties anymore.
Still i Wonder.

We could always get down and let down and be down down there where it's all down to nothing. Nothing. They call that a Sure Thing. If it's one thing you can count on it's Nothing. Funny how we all place such importance on Nothing. but what if I am left with Nothing? we all ask that from time to time. I had nothing before now, I certainly don't want it back. I love my life far too much now with these new Things that I could never possibly consider going back to nothing. Tell me you have never said that. I know you better than You think i do. Don'tcha know.

Cobwebs pull back on the screen and silent movie begins and I shudder in my gaze and think that all those people up there have long since been Dead. How do i cope with the loss of unknown yet beloved strangers. i cannot find the peace within myself to part with them, even if they have been long gone from this earth. i try not to think too much about it. That kind of thinking can bring you Down.

Hey, remember when we used to stroll along 10th and Market and you used to wear that hat? I remember that like it was yesterday. It was fall and the leaves were all orange and red and we'd walk along the square and you'd be going on and on about your cat and how much patience it took to keep it. You figured it was like having a baby, but I always surmised that a child was a little more work. You agreed.

No time for this happenstance. take me back to the movie house and let me watch from the darkness in awe of my heroes. i want to be Them, you know. I want to be the one that All fall in love With. I want to be their savior and their muse. Their love and hate. I sit back there and cry sometimes. it's beautiful to just feel how they really don't feel. something about that song touches Me. Something about walking down There and smelling that place just roasting really makes me feel at ease.

I hide in the car and read and just watch bums go by and am thankful that I am not out There with them bugging the hell out of me for spare change. You give them a buck and then they ask for three more. Forget that. I have no sympathy for bums who can't take what you give them. I guess the booze and drugs and cigarettes all cost too much anymore. of course, I may be being unfair here. They might be looking for food just as well. who knows.

Sometimes I just get all in myself and realize that it just isn't much in. It isn't In and there's nothing going on in there. Say hello to your inside sometime, see if it loves you back. Therapist will tell you to respect yourself and love your Self. my Ego feeds not on this bullshit. i hate such simple solutions. Christ, the whole world is built around the Obvious, which we treat like the great Riddle of greta. Greta Farken. Man was she a treat. had that body all up and down and around and around and sideways too. You just couldn't miss sexiness like that.

may i always be at peace with my true whatever. i have no name for my whatever although sometimes i refer to it as Cole. Cole does not like to be touched. Cole is provocative and will not let You in. Well, maybe for five bucks he will. Wait maybe Cole is a she. i never bargain with it at any rate. Make a motion here.

Motion down for me from the front aisle. tell me I can move closer and see more clearly. It's hard to see over these heads, you know. It's all just about Cole and Her and Me and that lover of mine.

Hotpoint

Chapter Eight

Machine is running. Tape 7. Side A. Halfway through this side. We now have Stella Marx here talking about why her drains are clogged. We have her here talking about why it makes her go insane in the middle of the afternoon.

Stella bites her nails and walks across the room and...Stella, please come sit down. We need to talk about these DRAIN PROBLEMS you seem to be experiencing. My friend Ralpho can come by and take a look at them if you wish. Darling now please just sit down and let's discuss this whole thing in a calm and orderly fashion.

trails off here...trails off and stella mumbles something about cohabitation with linky filmore.

Oh Stella, mark my words you should have been a star. i remember how your face used to be so pretty. what happened to that Face dear? she gets that from her Mother all the time. Where did you lose that face, Stella? As if it were her life's story. My face. My Face. My Face: The Complete Incomprehensible Story of Stella Marx and Her Wicked Ways.

Puncture and tincture. They sell it all down on the corner. You can ask for it at 5 AM and they have it. why not let's take a stroll down to the rexall and see what they have for you today? maybe we can find that card you wanted, or maybe we can just get a shake. Whatever you like, I'm treating. Barry Stolwitz got his red ball there, you know. It's all so dry anymore. My skin cracks so easily. bring june along if you like. Yes, June Shapely. Yes, she Is fabulous, Isn't she? And did you see that dress? Now there's a girl who has kept her face. Stella, Where did that face of Yours go anyway?

she breathes silently upon the glass. the window on her side. It's all fogged up and she traces her name in the condensation with the tip of her nose. she smells the cold glass and pokes the tip of her tongue out to greet it. Tastes dirty. like glass usually does. Save for glasses she drinks out of. but really, most panes of glass she has had the chance to taste all taste dirty.

Dear, could you speak a little louder into the machine? Hold on, I have to take a few notes here to try to recall what to ask you. my memory is so crazy these days. Frank says i should go in and have that checked, but really it's not so bad. I think it's just because I get so busy and well, there you have it. I get busy and there's nothing that can be said for a lapsed memory that just gets piled up with junk.

Anyway, where's that pen? Oh here we go. And so, hmmm. i think it would be good to ask if you have had any credit cards stolen. How do you feel about that? Oh here's Claudia! Dear Claudia, you are the most beautiful thing in the Established World. How did they let you slip through their fingers? ClOWdia. That's how you like it pronounced, right? ClOWdia? C-LOW-Di-A? No? You prefer it how? Oh. Cl-AH-Di-a. Ah, not OW. How interesting. I like that breasts...er, I mean I like that dress you're wearing today. Say listen, why don't we just go over here and you give us a few words.

Now..how are things going today? Yes? Good. Wow, that smile of yours. if i had my camera i'd have a roll of you all over my wall. It really is amazing how you didn't get noticed back home. But here, of course! Everyone loves you, you are quite the starlet. And how is that audition coming along? Good, good.

it's so delightful to see you again. You know you always were my favorite. Although, well dear, I must be honest. There's others who have designs on me, but you were the only one who said you actually wanted to cook for me. Now That is Something! And you're not a vegan, which is good too. You know they get on my nerves so much. It's insane. Don't drink that milk, don't eat that potato chip, it's been cooked in animal grease. Fuck that. Let's say you and I go across the street and get some chow and you can tell me all about your wonderful face. I'm not coming on too strong am I? God, I hope not. There's only so much time i have, but when you show up, I really want to spend it all on you. Is that crazy? Tell me you love me, darling. make me believe it. make me want to have kids with you, or at least make me want to fuck you. Oh dear, you are just but too delicious. Yes your hand there is nice.

I tell you what, Stan, that guy is on my nerves something bad. Him and that damn tape machine always running. you think...you think claudia really likes him? i hope not. i couldn't stand the thought of her actually sleeping with him. she's better than that. of course, she finally got Noticed here, so she's bound to be floating on some cloud of Fascination. what i wouldn't give to take her out of this element and get her really noticed, ya know? Sure, that face sells, but the complete package is the real treat. But around here, it's the Face. They want that "thing" going on.

ummmm..man did you smell that just now? it smelled like fried chicken we used to get in those aluminum foil lined paper bags...and also the scent of potato boats. I used to hate those things, but anymore, i really dig em. They could nourish me for awhile. Chicken and tato boats...with ketchup. Yes...that would be good right now...

crossed the last street and i walked into an alcove and just looked up at the grey sky and i wanted some rain to hit my eyes. it smelled kinda clean, but a downpour could really get it just right. it was still wet from the last rain. made me think of being between my grandmother's house and her neighbor's house and how she had that hose there on the side. and i'd always turn it on and soak the concrete walls.

used to also walk down to the corner store where they had comic books with no staples in them. How odd is that? I think that's the Only place i ever saw that Happen. a box of good 'n fruitys and i was on my way. Simplicity at 7. You let it all slide away later on, when you think it doesn't matter.

and the trains at night. they'd shake the house and carry you away to slumber and wake you in a gentle way the next morning. Chessie cat cars and cabooses, back when they still had those, complete with the guy hanging off the back who'd sometimes wave. Or maybe I'm just imagining that guy. doesn't matter. it's all gone now. i long for that time and that place and i long for youth and never growing old.

Hotpoint

Chapter Seven

Play it all down to nothing. That's what Bethie says. Play it all Down to absolutely zilch. i try to remember to do that whenever possible. she knows all that stuff. i wish i did. don't choke on the grass.

beth, step away from the curb. No, she's going on. walking on In to that puddle of black and just slowly dissolving into a slow motion frame. watch her as the fade out squeezes the life out of the screen. she's in that jacket. and there She goes. Simple. Simple as anything anyone could have ever asked for.

rainy night and wet street. and i drift away off into that sign's light. i let the room consume me. And i have my fare for whatever Fun is being sold tonight. Can't spend too much or I'll be caught. And I can't be caught.

Step aside and slide on down. We work it like thissssss. see. Just like slow dancing at midnight. Just like holding hands for the first time. Just like love discovered for the first time. that first time you really look into her eyes and just slip into some other place. we work it like that.

No need to look down. No need to even step from the platform. just stay where you are. let me figure this one out and I'll catch You. watch you tremble.

Smoke and laughs. Dance light. next work and Work on Sunday. Work for me.

Hotpoint

Chapter Six

idea of the Train being a casket. Theory of the train being a pathway to death. And Beyond. train chugs down the line to the station waiting 50 miles or so away. Lady at the station looks at her watch and remembers an old lover. An old lover somewhere boards a train and remembers a lady.

skeletal dew drops assimilate nothingness and everything. Wonderful everything. Everything that is the thing that is noThing that melts into the sweet something. some Thing. Thing of being. Thing of asthma. practitioners lie of the thing and say it does not Exist. Yet it coexists with any abundance of nature in all its serene tranquility.

Let me show you. here, look in my hand. It's open faced. watch face. watch spring sprung. Watch ticks and decays in a matter of minutes. Let it all ride away on a train. the train where a woman now boards and remembers the alleyway where she was once loved in the middle of June by a stronger woman. Ahh yes, it is a womanly love affair. a Sex agent sent to the procrastinator. the provocative angel dying in bewilderment of euthanasia. try me on for size it says. Try me on and I will never stop Loving you.

We all get chilly now and then. Now and then. It's like sooner or later, More or Less, and that vibrant peachy cantata that whispers sweet nothings in a procession of street workers. yes she hustles her ass. Her ripe body, her fucked out vagina. She does that. it's offered to all who can pay money to her. Does she ever give a freebie? yes, but only to her girlfriend. only to her enemy. only to her Father.

Drag it on down the lane. Try to outnumber the ones who do not show. We all get the idea that some days you just can't win. You just can't get along with those that cannot be friends. and we always look for that pleasure which is forbidden. we let it knock our skulls away and we sit all peachy keen in the drone of our hormonal existence and think of becoming monks and nuns. if we were only so lucky.

Clergy has no authority down by the river. they try to make it look like they do, but it's all just a ruse. Priests and pastors and sisters and mothers and fuck em all. they have their pampas grass, their papal stuff. yeah, i don't get it. stopped worshipping formally 7 years ago, but never gave up on God. Never missed a beat on my prayer. my Prayer reads like a script. maybe you've heard it before.

We have what you need right here. we have It all. It all. All of It is right here and we ...oh yeah...freddie...freddie freeloader. I know that tune. Makes me remember days of being in the basement at the pizza parlor and sucking down the best cokes money could by. No one else had that mix except for Acme. Drew on the tables and listened to Freddie....freddie. Yeah, that was certainly a time to be had.

I cannot think of the unfortunate misgivings tremaine and that old Scottish windbag had for Leslie Steepleman. Man, now there was one helluva babe who could get it on with any saint's son. The Saint often paid for it too. St. Jermaine did. He was down there all over Leslie and she ate him up like there was no tomorrow.

We all know when we get into It good. Fuck all of It. Get in there and work that bitch out like you just can't take it another minute. She wants it. You want it. Man, it's all there to be had. Baby, don't cha know that it's only that long? Don'tcha care that it isn't even ticking? For christ's sake, it isn't even moving. Baby try to feeeeeel it when i say to you that i love you. Cmon and gimme a kiss now. Ooh baby kiss me all over and let me feeeeeeeel that way.

Charlie spoke about the juggernaut he faced on Friday. It was a big sumbitch, he would say and throw his arms up in the air to signify that the sumbitch was pretty damned big indeed. we asked if He had any moments with It in a mamosa tree. A weeping willow. Willow weep for me. He said No. Sharky did though. Sharky he said was running the goddamned tables down at Berlioz. Down at Berlitz. Some place like that with a fucked up name. He couldn't remember, but it started with a B. We were all impressed.

Don't ask for the time, because it's not for free. You can go down to the fire hydrant and ask it even. Ask it all about time and the grass and the water and the dogs that come by constantly and piss all over the place. The firemen that grip your cock and pull it off till all your guts come pouring out. Yeah, you do that.

And Sad Little Cathy. We called her Salad Cathy. She was down at the beach last night referring to the zoo workers as nothing but a bunch of scrub tites. She actually said that. Probably would've offended half the county if it had been awake to hear it. Salad likes Cinnamon though, and Cinnamon has a big ass and she's hot and wants it all from me. Uh huh, you can put your money on it. I don't have to prove a thing to you people. Just take my word for it.

Now listen to this. We have no time for getting down and ornery. Oh freddie..there's that familiar refrain. Take me back for pizza and do it all over to me again. You know I can dig it. You know i can groove that muscle right tight with every opportunity and revering reverence that i can get baby. Yeah.

Hotpoint

Chapter Five

This one's for all you...dancers out there who go to those...clubs...and all that. This one's for Milton and Donna on their 5th anniversary showdown of the stars. This one's for Franklin and rebop. The customer of the future demands more, and now the future is now with the amazing Hotpoint range, dishwasher, and stove. Yes, it's all here with pushbutton simplicity.

Larry gets stroked on products, man. he can talk all night about bowling ball dryers and sandwich irons and crock pots and cheese slicers. He shoulda worked for acme inc. I believe. he likes shiny silvery industrial strength products. Those things that are built to last a lifetime. One whole entire lifetime, and then possibly through many other people's lifetimes. so sad that man can invent such products to withstand ages, and yet he Himself can't last much beyond 100 years' time.

Cleopatra sat in her chair and flipped through some magazines and sipped on a vanilla milkshake. she felt tawdry and cramped for a cigarette. she tried to quit before, but it was just too much pressure. hard to go from 3 packs a day to nothing. She constantly vomited and passed out.

test, one two, three. There. There. three, there. french fried onions. You can get those down at the Dez-O-Mart on Walker Ave. I often see Charlie with a can of em. they make him happy. he claims to really like onions, but seems to stop whenever you offer him a whole one for consumption. I guess it's hard to enjoy a raw onion no matter who you are and what your agenda is.

Now we have the tape rolling. Is that ok, Sara? You look elegant today. where'd you get those earrings? No, i am not a big customer of the Salvation Army. do you like whipped butter, or do you prefer it as a stick form?

spotlight drops on Vince Lumbago as he croons the latest stylings of the 30s for you live from Radio City. tonight's show is sponsored by Cremo, Maxwell House, Jergens, and Autolite. Vince will be serenading you through some of the best music of our generation here for a solid hour. we hope you enjoy the show.

The show. That is. That is, the show. That is. The Show. small caps, no? Largesse and green bills. gimme some money. we get trapped in a Woolworth's and all you can scream about is the decal machine and their cheap 50 cent albums. i couldn't take much more of it, to be honest with you. The pet section smelled like shit and the fish would all scatter when I would tap the tanks. What good is that?

Littering St. Jermaine. St. Gardenia. St. Gardene. They all live in an apartment overlooking a shitty street with opaque light flooding in from the alleyways. odd how dark places can generae light at times, but that's exactly how it is down there. St. Gardene affixes wheelies to his tire machine. he likes to stick stamps on mailboxes and expects them to get somewhere. he's constantly perplexed when he finds the mailboxes still there day after day. a sad case. He walks around in a homemade toga and smokes cigars and all the kids call him Uncle Bogey.

Fill. Phil. Phil, fill my cup. not with that coffee, no. Well, maybe. Maybe later. No go on and give it to me now. Gimme cream though. cream and sugar, yes. I like to not taste the actual coffee if i don't have to. Would you mind giving us a little saying, or a quote perhaps? yes, speak into the microphone right there. No, don't blow into it. there you go. yes, go on about your wife. I'm sure all the listeners out there would love to hear about her.

someone's steeped in aftermath and aftershave. you like it like that, i know it. Don't call me from the causeway. I will not come in from the beautiful mist jumping from the ocean. smell that air, won't you?

Hotpoint

Chapter Four

The road is scary at times. Driving 80 mph plus and watching the giant truck with the car leech behind it as if it were a sinister tail slinking back and forth. everything is Black and all you can think of is getting There. it's not that important that you really get there on time, but that you just get There in the first place.

some talk about how they often have fantasies about steering their car into the closest guardrail or median wall, or perhaps another vehicle and just getting it over with. Can't think of the last time I personally considered such dull excitement. All i can think of is waking up a bit more and getting my fingers back into this groove of solitary Art and all of its pleasure principles.

you can kick a dog, and a cat and you can put them in the same bath water and they fight. why is that. why is everything primitive and complex forever pitted against each other? Why must i always sit around and observe the obvious. The Obvious. The Obvious World. Why must I sit around and observe that when everyone else can easily ignore it without a care? it's not that i'm being topical or trying to sound like I give a shit, but really. People just like to coast through all this pleasant stuff.

Karmel stopped by today. She had groceries for me. I smiled at that pretty face of hers. i tried to Escape into her Smile. How badly i wanted In. of course, i could probably get In anytime I wanted to. we get along well and she is always wanting to help me out in whatever ways she can find. But I am always the Shmuck and prefer a challenge. So I build all these obstacles and fantasies up in my head. maybe i love her.

She flopped down on the sofa and just smiled at me. I felt my skin tingle and wanted so much to be With her. how odd. There we were in the same room, but we might as well have been in two different rooms. Being with Her is like watching a favorite actress in the Movies. You are in awe of her appearance, of her Existence, and you know you could never hope to touch her. That's how it basically is with Karmel.

We sat down for a while and i recorded her voice saying different things. She started talking in broken dialects and made cat noises while she pretended to bathe herself, much like a cat would. She didn't seem to find this in the least bit odd. i don't even think she has a thing for cats, much less owns one. she suggested that we buy her a collar and I take her out for walks. i sat and ate some peanuts and thought of that as i stared at the carpeting and wondered just Why some people made it past the second grade.

i made her a ham salad sandwich and she talked about how they have the best salad sandwiches over at Barney's down across from Schiff's Pharmacy. Schiff's. christ, that place has been there since 1908 or something like that. you go in there and get pie a la mode, or a malted or some other funky something that you can only get in a place like that. There's not enough places like Schiff's. Amazingly it has stayed in the family and has survived countless changes in the City and countless offers for higher Hands paying wages. I really doubt The H&J Sons Corporation knows the first thing about making a good malted. I doubt they know anything about making a good egg sandwich as well. those are hard to find anywhere.

i need a dose of "Groovin' High". I often have these charmed ideas about going over to the older parts of the City and walking around it, just taking it all in and feeling like Yeah This Is My Place. Funny how things like that never get accomplished. I should actually get out and live my life now and then. Ah the desires of a young person.

I saw Wick today. He had some expensive damned suit on. always flashing about that chunk of Change. he never gives any out though. not that he should. Hell i'd rather horde expensive toys than give it up for crack derelicts any day. is that too heartless of me?

some say that we only live as long as we live. yeah, that's hip. i think many things are With it these days. I turn on the tv and just see the hippest kids in their dirtiest attire fucking each other breathlessly with no worries. and you know, that's how it really is out there. you have these kids spreading their legs as early as 9 years old anymore. They learn that from tv. tv is good. i think every place should have at least five tv sets, each with different hookups. one with cable, one with an aerial, one with satellite, and so on. one would only run on vcr head cleaning tapes. it would Sell, i'm telling you.

Leslie always talks about how good she Smells. she's one of those classic sunbathed blonde goddesses who manages to fuck up all that beauty by smoking cheap cigarettes. always strikes me as quaint how these women will take so much care about their looks and then smoke 3 or so packs of cigarettes a day. ah well, it's just another one of those things that we accept as Accepted.

i was consistently shocked in high school by girls whom i had known all my life. I always thought they were such sweet things, and then there they were, smoking it up at 15 and talking about whom they laid the night before. Really took the joy out of chasing women around. ah well, no matter. I always enjoyed the Silent types whom I'd never stand a Chance with anyway.

it's easy to be crass and unkind, and it's easy to let the world slide by you every day. and i would just like to say now that at this part of the recording there is a voice in the background which is not of this world. ghost voices are good. they are there, you know. There. There they are. are we with them, or are they with us? who the hell cares? so we are hearing static now and the sound of some woman singing and then there is miz Gish and Cole Porter, he's there too.

Hello hello. We are broadcasting to you tonight from the Tropicana. tonight's featured guests are Stan Freberg, Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers, Leslie Van Houghten, Samba Rodriguez, and Nancy Colio, Hello, hello.

Here's to the Celestios. the Celestios, the celestios. hello to them. I am speaking to Them and I think they need to do a little dance here. Look at little Mary Celestio go! look at those shiny shoes and those taps clicking and clacking about here and there.

What i thought was a Ghost behind me just now was merely my cat getting in trouble with a plastic bag. i find and feel. i feel and find. i find that it's good to have a bag for yourself. you can put whatever you Like into it. and Like is most important. I think of the shiny diamond star insignias at the Cosgrove Lounge and how people sit there and listen to bad music and sip martinis hour after every passionate hour. they smoke and drink and dance, and no cares at all will you find there. it's very comforting.

I can go over to Harvey's and order a good sandwich on whole white. Not wheat, but white. Harv specializes in That. He thinks it's the next big thing. Whole White bread. I think he's insane, but he just laughs and serves em up.

Hotpoint

Chapter Three

the HOT. Hot thing now is phone sex. everyone wants to get in on That. Be it old or young or old and new or old and old and molested and raped and sitting pretty and vanguards of thought and cybertension race up your sleeves to whatever Lomax is picking out tonight, dear friends, I like that special Smell he comes up with. He refers to it as the Cool. Feh.

I know we all get trampled here and there and I know we stare and stare and I know we cook when we is all get up and no go all talk and no action what kinda bitch is that she talks so sweet but won't spread that jive for me, blah i don't need a tease i only want to come mouthfuls of puddles of black come I want to give it to her and she does it for me and I want that and we all do it via credit card or long distance and verbatim vis a vis and proletariat rock.

steeped in hollow junk and black coffins. oh but yea it is a dead end route why people like that come across as clean and mean and lean and simpatico drawn healy. Healey. Healy healey. feathered heater drop dead gorgeous I lay down on the plank and pull it all out for ya. Can't you see I'm not shy can't you gimme what i want just for once this goddamned time. Make me stop, I don't have to. I reel and fuck and shit and scurry this way and that. And I seizure. No seizure. Seizure gets me and saxophone steps by and says how do you do and I just melt.

Listen, I know it doesn't take much to get the drop on anyone. No one smells that nice. We walked down to Felix's and ordered a corned beef on rye with mustard and a cream soda. Joe said he had blisters all over his scrotum. He tried to show us, but we weren't interested. Just then Mary Myrna walked in and showed us those new implants she got. she was all high on it and wanted us to squeeze them. we didn't care about that either. i just munched down on that bread and felt it all just take me over. man i am in a trance, i can't fucking get out. this thing is controlling me. god i can feel it in my legs, and i wish i could stop, but i think i need to get off, so please let me.

can think now. I can. I can think a little more now. now that the venom has been shot forth. you have no idea what it is like to write and get excited like that. you have no idea how it feels. so much for phone sex. so much for any of that nonsense. i get it from here. i get it and i dream it and i live it and i

Hotpoint

Chapter Two

Hello is Phyllis there? No, this is not Jacarta. Jacarta, Jacarta. No, it's not Jacarta. It's not anything but a moist replacement for whatever is hot selling down at Tyrone's. I can't be fooled that easily.

down in the french quarter...I was there for a summer, and i remember that there was A Girl there. there was a girl there, There. There. And I remember how she worked in the market and my friend Dil had to always translate for her, cause i knew no french and she never bothered to learn american. American or English and anglaise or fallopian mythics or whatever it is they call it nowadays. And anyway I was smitten with her and her name was Cloy and she smelled of fruit. had one of those husky voices that sounded like she wanted to be mistreated and loved all at the same time.

Nowhere is the best place to be. there are No limitations. there Are no Rules, there are no theatrics to worry about. And why people worry about that type of nonsense is beyond me. No, here was Roller in his femme look and he liked how he looked and he wanted to be posh and fuck worthy and all those delicious things. And I wanted him to marry some smart ass bitch from Detroit who was always hounding me for spare change and coffee. and if I didn't have that, then she'd piss me off and ask for small talk. Like I have any.

i often find that it's hard to express myself for small change and small talk. Big words impress me, they fuse my sex and my stride and my politics and wanking together all in one tight remote location known as Gripping Pipe Street. You should go there sometime, it's all musty and leaky and kids with snot trailing out of their noses stand around all day playing mosh tart and bitching about the rain. It never stops raining there.

Carl and i walked down to 5th and jumped into Phil Ramus's there for a spot of scotch and other phony rich people drinks. carl was always wanting to get drunk and so i obliged him whenever i could. He'd get blasted and then insist on pulling his penis out to show to the velvet paintings behind the bar. the funny thing was that Ramus would let him and not budge or wince at carl's mammoth appendage. I swear that thing had to be at least 10 inches. he said it scared women away. I believed him.

It's not easy to lie at times and though it must be done, I often feel shitty for it. but i can't compensate. I mean one day it's a lie and the next you're pulling some small girl's panties down behind a tree in the park. So what's the difference in the end I'm sure God will take it up with me and set me straight when i reach Him. i have been meaning to ask the old man if he has any sins unclaimed in this world and if so could i please help myself. making out with 14 year old girls is just getting stale anymore. i can't get any kicks from it.

We always talk about how it's important to dry your hair after having a shower. oh don't let it go wet, or you'll catch pneumonia or something like that. well i mean, that's what they say, isn't it? don't They realize that I can get pneumonia from Ammonia? yes i can, i'm not crazy, i saw it on TV. kids huffing ammonia and getting intoxicated by Beasty fumes. they die after too much of it though. I saw one kid drinking bleach down on Stockholm Ave. last week. He offered me a Taste, but I just couldn't accept it. I told him he should try gin, but he just laughed and took another swig from the encrusted lip of the bottle. He belched and then threw up. i watched him die. i walked up to Tony's for some soup, but he wasn't there.

is it ever Enough to just contribute to the world and then smile about It? i think not. I think it's all funny how the rotation of the System is set up to make Us believe that You can get away with a lie and not have any damages come from it. This is all petty bullshit. Even if i lie constantly, it never comes to anything good. my whole life is a lie at times. and then sometimes it is a sad nonfiction published for Those who can stand to look in a mirror anymore. I know I can't

I can sometimes get 16 year old girls to tell me all about orgasms. i don't know why i do it. Some tell me they have been masturbating since age 5. I have been getting off since 12 or 13. my hand is always down my pants, be it because i am scratching my ass or holding on to my scrotum for some reason or another. I don't know why more men don't show this display of arrogant crassness.

More or Less. Chalky talks about it like it's some kind of fucking fanaticism. hey! more or less, J. More or Less, have you ever thought about the consequences? i'm sure we can get bagels from it, and maybe half of a ham. Chalky is a deranged lunatic for whom i have no compassion. He likes to talk about More or Less all damned day long. it just isn't worth it to put up a fight for.

now, Claude Milky, aka Claude Balls...named after a bad old pun, is one of those bastards that has nothing to do all day and basks in the fact. he makes biscuits and gravy up in some old tin contraption and invites me over every tuesday to imbibe. He laughs with that toothless grin and then talks about whores and gums down his mess that he has cooked then shouts out It's good, iddinit?! I say yeah yeah it's good Claude, even though the shit tastes like garbage and it's making me want to choke. Claude just sits there smoking and tells me all about his stoma. STOMA STOMA he screams. and then he points to the hole in his neck. wooo...so nice to be on the ventilator.

Cross cats are always able to blare out any old jinx at four in the morning. it always gets me to smile to look out of the 2nd floor window and see just how beautiful that ohio skyline is. man i could go for some chili now. Look at it though, I mean really look at those lights. and feel that cool breeze of the oscillating fan caress you all over as Channel 9 news spits out the latest tales of degradation. christ, what i wouldn't give to slip back into my youth and have nights like those again. i loved them one and all.

So it's good that we all have a notion to do something and it's all just peachy that we have no time to spend on these projects. I think about it and I drain myself. I sit on stools and sponge crap off the maestro like he likes me to. He wants me to wet him and mop him and soak him in beer nuts and molasses. It's a kinky ordeal. he likes licorice and taffy. I tell him to go jerk it in the corner onto the cracked tile. Cracked pepper. he likes that. he likes to defecate and tell us all how it smells like walnuts and cracked pepper. someone should be there for him. i know it won't be me, thank god.

touch me there. squeeze me and feel me all over like you did that one time. I need to Be that way in that way that decimal symbolic way of being that way. I know it feels good to you too. I know You need to feel it all over and around and i sit here rocking needing to release all this into you. oh yes, to be there is divine and delicious and I want to Taste that taste of you. In a glass we fuck and rock and tumble for the clink. The Clink. Mmmm, yes.

Oh be it not for the short ones.

Hotpoint

Chapter One

See, I have this idea for a story. Maybe it's not a story, maybe it's more of a tale. A fiction. a fictitious shun. fiction. Friction. Whatever. i feel compelled to tell you about It anyway.

degrasso vomited sunlight sprayed down on trinkets too noteworthy to be left alone just like that. Carl said he'd like to be in a play. I have no thoughts about judy. Why she'd do That. I try not to kid her about it though. she never laughs. Such a sad mess.

Listing all these names is an idea. there's franco and merle. Billy and Fishback, stoolie and cosgrove. Phalanx and matter down natty poo. You try to caress that many peni in such time. try to get that off your face.

I used to watch many women from my window. i would peep at them. Them. They, whom i would look at from my pane of glass from which I was sitting behind. I looked at them and watched Them undress as I pulled at my jeans and felt my stiff One. Yes.

Another idea is to maybe do like an interview and have people sit down and tell Me all about what it is like to adhere to public logos. you know, all that demographic stuff. all that stuff about corporations and corporate sponsorship. Jill...no, Joel. Joel would know all about that. he used to, anyway. i hope he stops by and tells me his stories of feeling up waitresses down on 8th. He has those stories, you know.

Anyway, I'm just compiling these things, these thoughts, ideas. Here's an idea. see right there. that word idea is an idea. That the word IDEA is an IDEA. not and idea, but an idea. AN idea. No d on the end of that an. follow me? follow ME closely. Follow me. follow ME close.

Tabby's frigid and she sits around all day and spanks jim jom off. He adheres to that relic known as self gratification. she does the same with thick fudgy cake. quick joey small and sweet mary jane's fudge cake with a something in it. wasn't a File. No i think it was a GUN. GUN. that shoots right out at you...no pun intended there. Just look at that word GUN. gun. small letters. Bang bang. Sammy loved Bang Bang. I did too. Loved it when he shot up the bar with the tommy GUN. gun. small letters. shot up the bar with the tommy gun and tap danced all over the place. it's good like that.

Maybe I could get some financing from people interested in this type of mess. this i call this mess. it is not a mess, but merely mess. you can't make a movie out of it. they'll try to though. they'll get me to masturbate into a coffin and then i will have to lie down in my own semen and talk candidly about how art. Art . one letter caps. Capitalized. Art is dying. Them trying to make Art by me spunking in a velvet lined coffin for the nation and then the world and then home consumption.

You try to find. find out that make that make that make that make of spunk in the alley. i fled from it, much like i fled from the vomit. Play the patsy for me. Be Patsy. Make me want your breasts. Make me dream of you at night and make me do it to myself till I spunk the coffin. It will look good in the film. maybe i will get terry to be me and then my face will not be seen, though i'm sure you'll be able to hear my breath on the track. We'll dub it over. my heavy Heavy heaving...heavy breathing while terry fucks himself into the coffin. But it will be my spunk and not his. I think that's the important part. i'm telling You now so you'll Know when the film comes out who's coming whose come.

My thoughts travel to some sunny spring day out on some sidewalk cafe and i'm eating chimichangas with Grodek. He tells me the fish is good and does not smell like the lake they caught them in. I tell him it's not for me. this actually. No. This. This this This happened actually. This actually happened.

people get wary of certain diseases and manifestations of such things. they don't want to get sick and they don't want to garble like mess fugitives from the pedantic slaughter of kingdom five much like i feel blade that blade pushing into my body and i feel all the energy push through my arms now wish you could feel it excitement is unbearable. hope you don't think i was talking suicidal back there. i wasn't. was just trying to give an erotic suicide example of whatever it is. i stop here.