Nacht Musik and Nilla Wafer Give The Yeast Infection Its Daily... Bread

i.

And they said to me, "when things grow too savage for the sake of saving, stand back and figure how to make them even more grotesque". Little did they know that I was already hard at work at my own personal Haunting. Slaggin' and Crashin' and Choppin' Bliggy on octagonal glASStABLEs. Yeah, generally Muckin' About. (Heath)Cliff Huxtable ain't got shit on me! 

ii.

"What happened to you?" she asked. "You used to be beautiful". Whimpering and Malcontent like a chamber maid on bomb heron.

And my response?

Wouldn't

you

like

2

know

you

2

Live

Crew

Bugaloo

Let's just say...

I "silenced her with my

own

naked

self".

And that was the end of it, yeah.

It's My Wife, And It's My LIFE!

The Velvet Underground - Heroin

one of my favorite pieces of fiction posits that those of us who prefer to drive on the wrong side of the road suffer/benefit from a wholly unique, if inexplicable condition...

to paraphrase, a veritable lifetime of perpetually fucking up, followed unconditionally by a string of unwarranted, illogical second chances.

why is all this happening for us?

as is the case in the matter of figuring out how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop (TM), "the world may never know..."

p.s. if you put the pieces together, i mean really give it a go, the name of the aforementioned fave piece of collected sheets of paper will become evident. now sod off while i polish your mama's slit.

grow up.

Soozie Sooz, Peanut, and Mookie thought it would be funny to tie off baby Lilly and drop a nice warm shot of heron into her chubby little arm. hilarity ensues.

i wish.

i gave a kid a cigarette today while i was trapped at the light. he couldn't have been older than 15. i know, i'm going to hell. that was certain long before today. not like there's a hell to go to anyway.

but were there a heaven and hell, maybe i wouldn't be so indefatigably hellbound, because it was my second to last cig, and i never give sticks away when i'm down to five or less, not even to chicks with fake tits. and i love fucking fake tits!

so you see, it was an act of charity.

i just wish cigs weren't so bad for you. and i wish chicks' assholes weren't so tight. like trying to stick a nail into a brick. and i wish ferraris were mass produced, toyota camry style, so i could cop one without having to rob a few banks first. and i wish heroin wasn't so dangerous. and i wish you fucks hadn't elected Bush twice. and i wish i knew every word in the dictionary.

but most of all, i wish i was a little bit taller, i wish i was a baller, i wish i had a girl who looked good i would call her, i wish i had a rabbit in a hat wit a bat and a 64 impala.

alternate ending.

there was a time when i was slightly embarrassed to mark pete doherty as one of my heroes. biggest rock star in the uk, yet belly broke? constantly shooting drugs yet as lucid as if he'd been chewing flinstones vitamins? a menace II society, bashing about albion in margaret thatcher-era jaguars, perpetually under arrest? going to rehab like most people go to safeway? this is your hero kasai? jesus.
(scornful looks and scoffing ensue)

exactly.

look at what the last few months have brought for the kid and you'll know who's got the last laugh you squares.

hell, there was a time when even pete-o-philes like myself thought he would be strung out and dead at the crime scene by now, particularly after the whole blood painting scenario. but i guess that's the thing about expectations. just prospecting. like playing the lotto. can't count us out, can't keep us down!

shine on you tiny diamond!

I Need Drugs!

jesus h! this song used to be really near and dear to my heart you guys. kinda cutesy even. play it for cool people at work maybe and get a laugh. all that's fucked up after seeing this video though. one look at uncle howie shooting up and it's like fuck, the addict's life, in my face, for real this time. i almost can't even pay attention to the lyrics with all this dope drama going on in the background. and the fucking vintage camcorder aesthetic (you know, the shit the size of a samsonite, vhs tapes, shoulder mounted, goofy as fuck?) adds to the griminess tenfold.

if ONDCP were smart/effective/tuned in at all, a. they'd stop trying to get kids to stop/never start smoking weed, and b. they'd launch their new front with this video as their all-star PSA.

one look at this shit and all the gateway drug stuff is instantly validated.

"no kid grows up saying, i wanna be a junkie," proclaims mr. voiceover.

yeah, well, make it visceral uncle sam. introduce the kids to uncle howie. haha. to a real fucking maniac and not some drama major asshole from connecticutt but no, as usual, the war on drugs wastes our time, cash, and resources pussyfooting around the issue.

bottom line, stop wasting my money you fucks.