Saturday, August 22, 2009

"Be good and you will be lonely."
- Mark Twain.

I was at the book store looking at the books and magazines.
They didn't have Mao's Little Red Book, but I found this small fancy book of Russian Poems, it's good too. I got the new i-D 300th issue. 300 issues?! That's a lot.

There was this girl with an interesting coat and swaggered my way. It was like she was drunk. She had a fancy haircut bob, but she was walking towards this douche bag boyfriend.

There was this other cute girl with long hair and she was short and older than me with nice jeans filled up nicely and she walked passed me a few times.

This was this blonde lady with sexy fake body parts wandering around, but turns out she was just killing time for her dumb meat head buddy.

"Would you like a gift recept for the book sir."
"Uh no... what? I don't look like the type of person that would read Russian Poems?"
I said.
A lady behind the counter laughed.
I went to my truck and drove it home.
I got gas and saw this retarded kid smoking a ciggerette outside the gas station.
I almost asked him if he had any idea of how fucking stupid
he looked.
I mean, he looked worst then an actual retard.
Much worst.

Before I left this kid was weedwacking and cutting the grass next door. It was so fucking loud and he was weed wacking forever. I almost ran over there, grabbed the weed wacker, and started weed wacking his face. How genius would that be? "OH SHIT I'M SORRY I THOUGHT YOU FACE WAS A PILE OF UNWANTED WEEDS, SORRY BRO."

Why haven't they invented silent weed wackers yet? Sweet lord. Somebody kill somebody, I don't care who. Just not a woman.

I sound pretty pissed off, but the truth is, I just feel a little sick and I'm about to throw up in my mouth a little bit. I really hope you aren't reading this.


When the grass grows slow and the cool breeze blows
and the Autumn isolation is only one month away.
Open your window and let that shit in, bring it kid,
bring it kid. Words on paper could be your only hope,
soap on a roap, and a camoflauge totes. Automatic spelling,
a bumblebee tea. Drinking a wasp infested cup of coffee.

Worst than the Nazi's, but twice as boring. The old man is snoring,
and Christopher Columbus is whoring.. himself out to the Queen, to
rape the unseen. I've seen it all, but now I can't see. I'll go
to sleep, and wake up again. Try one more day, to find a good friend.

Carob covered almonds,
and killing Nazis.
Malanie and Alina Kabayeva,
I need myself a new tennis partner.
Red, Blue, and Yellow;
////the Primary colors.
I have a Borders Bookstore Gift Card,
left over from Christmas.
Red, Blue, and Yellow;
////the Primary colors.
I have a Borders Bookstore Gift Card,
left over from Christmas.
Red, Blue, and Yellow;
////the Primary colors.
I have a Borders Bookstore Gift Card,
left over from Christmas.
How am I going to find myself a new Tennis partner?
My age? My level? A female, perhaps.
Drafted the young, making mistakes.
Visualizing reality on realistic returns.
/// a cloudy and cool saturday afternoon.

I was surprised.


Army Navy Surplus.


How many lies have you told yourself?
How many lies written on that shelf?
How many lies have you told everyone else?
How many lies have you told to youself?
When the primary colors
primarily marry, the marriage gets messy.
Other than nature, or on the ground,
I hate green, it gets me down.
Once was red, but now it's green.
I'm envious of Charlie Sheen.
And all the Christian Scientists,
In Hollywood, are the new Jews.
There's not much I can say or do,
but that's why it's pretty cool.
So at the bookstore-like-library,
I'll comb the shelves for something heavy.
It could be a magazine,
a monologue,
gymnastics team;
I go to the Optometrist
on Monday.
Hope I get my glasses by Sunday.