Posts Tagged ‘Disappointing’

Leftovers 2009 (part one)

January 2 2010

Scraps from Ideas and Pieces too Unappetizing to Have Timely Finished

Mating Habits for Future Humans1

Nano Dating

Like speed dating2 or flash dating,3 except that now you are part of an intricately-plotted mandala, constructed such that, when each person spins in a circle they are treated to a brief (BRIEF) glimpse of five new ‘potentials’ per revolution.

Forget faces or conversations or well-flexed adductor pollicis– Nano Dating is pure jib!

Mistake Your Date For Sea Green When Really They Are A Dull, Drab Umber4

aka the vague essential blur of the thing, the whole smear.5

Decimation

Ask out one of every ten people you see6

Ass(istance), Gra(ba)ss, and Gas

Ass, Grass, and Gas: Robot Roomates will supply all three…

– Their Assistance is guaranteed by the Robo-Human Collective Bargaining Agreement of 2083, by which robots were bestowed the context-limited right to kill humans (in cases of rape, incest, and war/political assassination) in exchange for de facto-y/de jurish slavery.

– Be it dicking around, tea bagging, pussyfeeting, or tying labias together while they sleep, weird/gross/sexualized horseplay has heretofore been the province of human beings. Not so the Future, in which your robot friends will play Grabass with you in lieu of the increasingly scarce, and dangerous, prospect of human contact.

Gas! (Quick bots—proscribing ecstasy, fumbling)!78

As part of the Robo-Human Collective Bargaining Agreement Annex of 2085, all Robot Friends– now mandatory for every household– will serve as your Behaviour Eccentricity Standardization, Training, and Intimidation Escort, or BESTIE. If you engage in lollygagging, goofoffery, grab-assery, goldbricking, around-screwing, self-pollution, self-pollination,9 self-immolation,1011 self-immunization, immaturation, United Nations, con-grat-u-lations, around-dicking, digression, discession,12 precession, gyration, around-humping, axes,13 axes,14 not using axes,15 acts of aggression, a-grousing, agros,16 Argos,17 shaggy dogs, picaresques, feghoots, foogoffery,18 loligaggery19 or any other Deviant and Unscrupulous Moral Practices expect to be gassed.

So what does this have to do with mating? I FORGET! (AND DON”T REMEMBER THE PARTS OF THIS THAT HAD TO DO WITH MATING)!/20

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1End-of-decade laziness scuttled this otherwise worthwhile premise by keeping me from coming up with more than three notions. Probably will recycle within a month.

2“Speed dating is a formalized matchmaking process or dating system whose purpose is to encourage people to meet a large number of new people.” – Wichard E. Pedia.

3The Little League Shake Line of dates. ‘Good Game’ each of your Potentials. Primarily face and hand shake based.

4Subtitling a picture of Sea Green.

5Character swatches.

6Or, for advanced Decimators, (exactly, precisely) every tenth person you see.

7Alt. 1980s Post-Modern Neo-Beat Poem (That Is Probably About AIDS) Version: Gays! Quick boys, getting down!— Fumbling on ecstasy!

8That probably happened, right?

9In the future, humanity finally achieves peace on earth, god-sin reconciliation through their merciless, the opposite of mild battle against/oppression of their greatest foe: sentient plants that think they’re people.

10Those suspected of floraeic sympathies– Buddhists, Banzai Groomers, Topiarists, Meat Lovers’ Pizza Lovers, Carrot Top, Al Jardine– will be relocated to special “Free Speech Estates” where their speech will be freely observed, their estates liquidated; a new generation of punks will play Thresh music, and sport an aesthetic patched together from reappropriated/contextualized overalls, straw hats, 20th century frozen vegetable advertising iconography; Flatstock a tedious procession of seed packets promoting shows by bands named after esoteric legumes, and festival schedules in the guise of crop rotation grids.11 The subculture, horticulture; the plant user, supaltern[sic].

11“Did you see Cyamopsis at NeoBumbershoot? Fabaceae could barely follow them.”

12[Prisoner reference]

13No X, no Y, no Z; no gyros, no scopes.

14No electrical guitars– each metals and plastics part is a tree that goes unslaughtered.

15Trees again.

16What else can I say? [The future is] All arcologies. Also: aqua seafoam shame (i.e. the humiliation of realizing that no amount of carbon nanotube tower sterility and magical future spaceglass dome anaesthesis can crest the swell between humanity’s promise and what it delivered). Later, In a Sun (namely Iota Rigoris): A Painting Subtitled Josh Malina, Feeling Broke Up and Wanting, Being Unable to (Ever Again) Go Home. [And then, in the book, on the opposite page, a plate with this picture]

17You paid to witness a skilled and accurate recitation of pre-recorded songs as performed by the original artist and that is (precisely, exactly) what you will get.

18Telling people to “foog off” while affecting a false brogue. What?.

19i.e. Hand-drawn half-grown mouths unable to ablate impossible deposits of cock.

20THEY WERE SO GOOD< SO CREATIVE AND UNIQUE__ BUT NOW THEY”RE GONE!

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Another Sonnet Except This One Is Genuinely Pointless

November 17 2009

Hockey Rookies 1996

 

Jarome Iginla, Jarome Iginla:

didn’t think you had it in ya.

But you did– you made it happen!

The Big Tree, our first black captain.

 

Sergei Berezin, sacred wing–

his name a mantra– let it ring!

This sniper’s blast, by ray divine,

will find itself inside the twine.

 

Bryan Berard, Rhode Island’s own,

would not have used androsterone

if not for Hossa– rape his corpse!

(Though Todd Bertuzzi needs it worse).

 

But for that year– three princely sticks–

you Kings of Hockey ’96.

 

Where Did Half My Knee Go Diamond/Pearl

October 3 2009

Let’s Put This Knee Thing To Rest, On Ice; Let’s Tear This Mother/Meniscus Down

 

I’m Panicking!

My arm’s tingling like someone opened up a Brookstone in there

If I was a song I would be off of the audiocassette LP Sister by Sonic Youth.

Panicqueen just taken, left with only 2 panicpawns and an anxiousrook?

I’m talking to people, conversationally, with whom I am acquainted.

Re-re-re-replaying every angle of each mistake in my mind over and over and

Completely ignoring the Order of Operations– going parentheses before brackets, multiplying before subtracting, swine before pearls, postmaturely ejaculating.

Eyes narrowing into an expansive soft focus; words lying on the tongue, fermenting into mouth crust.

 

 

Anagrams of BEDRIDDEN

Dined, Bred

En DD Bride

Debrined-d

Bird Ended

Brie…

Bid Dr Eden

Need Dr Bid?

Bend Dried

End Dire db

Bided Rend

Red Bidden

Dred In Bed

 

 

 How You Are Wasting Your Ability To Walk/Run/Stand/Kneel (That Should Rightfully Be Mine)

Being fat enough to barely be able to

Going to museums

Riding Segways

General Admission tickets to Velvet Revolver

‘Gallery Opening’ at local bar trying to cultivate enough cred to to tend double-digit wells

Stalking your first/only girlfriend

Giving lousy head

Giving lousey head– emigrating now-pubic nits

Giving mousey head– demure dick suckers/coquettish clit lickers need not apply(?/gross)

Giving moussey head– feathered fellatio, hair band hummers, another creepy/crass alliteration

Teaching a mouse how to ride a motorcycle (the fin-de-quatrevingts having long since passed)

Where Did Half My Knee Go, Still?

October 1 2009

Where DID Half My Knee Go?

 

^ Way down to Kokomo

^ Battered Joints Shelter

^ Took a flying fuck at a rolling donut, took a flying fuck at the mooon; couldn’t break earth’s gravity, trapped in orbit

^ Spring Break! But in the Fall!

^ Left on a Jet Plane (to have sex with its daughter)

^ Or did Peter, Paul & Mary do that song?

^ I don’t know their lives…

^ But still, a little unfair to let that implication stand on the basis of “confusion with the Mamas & Papas

^ Granted

^ On the lam since ratting out (half of) Eeney and (half of) Moe

^ On permanent vacation per orders of some broad I was lying about banging,re: the impending release/return of her boyfriend (He’s “kinda big” and “awful strong”; I’m a height weight anagram (5’10”, 150 lbs)1

^ On scholarship/off to college, will heretofore be (merely) a tangential part of my life– wicked bad “Empty Leg” syndrome

^ On a crazy bender– 270º around!

^ That’s a little knee humor for you

^ I knee-d to know and it didn’t pa-tell-a! …Me!

^ Which is unfortunate as I can’t afford an x-ray to find out (and my insurance only kicks in once I get hit by a truck).

^ To hell

 

 

 

 

1Alt. less truthful/more clever, grotesque variant: “I’m a height weight palindrome (5’11”, 115 lbs)

When Can I Sleep?

September 24 2009

When Can I Go To Sleep?

*  Per hokey poet’s exhortations, not for another few miles or so.1

*  In five second snatches throughout the day. Cache it up!2

*  Can’t: still have ladies to skeeve out by having my half-drawn eyes incidentally fix on them while, on the bus, my body/brain goes limp, tongue juts out.3

*  Can’t: there’s an urethral blockage– originating in the seminal vesicles– that needs clearing before I can do so. Vigorous Clearing.4

*  Can’t: have yet to give you everything I’ve got for a piece of mind.5

*  Not until I clean the bathroom. Ammonia + Bleach FT(F,A)N!6

*  Not until I track down my wife’s killer. And get married. And my wife dies. (Of murder).7

*  Not until I tell them what they want to hear.8

*  Not sure– playing chicken with a fistful of pre-2006 NyQuil to find out.9

*  After and only After eating/drinking 1/3 of my paycheck.10

*  After the world explodes, crumbles, and I’m lying there in your arms, zygoma-to-ulna.11

*  Concussion joke.12

*  Not until I throw this spaghetti at a wall that doesn’t exist, has no taste for spaghetti.13

*  Only after and not until I’m frozen solid in a stupid hedge maze, the monstrous manifestation of alcoholism slayed, stayed– no risk of hangover, breath.14

 

 

 

 

1Eight, I think.

2Kirk Cameron + Tennis Shoes style.

3Like a kitten cat (that got misinterpreted as a pervert).

4Gross.

5A little smidgen, even. Ripping off Top Cat, you see.

6For The (Forced, Accidental) Nap!

7Not necessarily in that order.

8Couldn’t they just not torture and (just) dash off some forged warrants?

9Face down in the couch listening to And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out, waiting to see if I’ll wake up.

10That is eating 100% and drinking 300%.

11Unfortunately, it seems my ability to sleep is mostly dependent on recreating fictional scenes, dying.

12Not until I’ve got 500 words, sequitur or otherwise.

13And the spaghetti is undercooked, anyways.

14In the book they were topiary, and the house blew up, and the dad looked more like Steven Weber than Jack Nicholson. Meh.

Dating Preparation Tips

September 23 2009

Dating Preparation Guide (First Draft)

Denude your entire body of hair, keratin, chitin
Hair – Hair is gross, a necessary evil from a bygone time in which we were too sinful to have invented clothes. The surrealists knew it, the dadaists knew it, the guy who made my egg salad sandwich knew it. Not content to be merely disgusting, hair is also the number one (#1) spreader of friction, that most flammable AND inflammable of all forces.* Ridding oneself completely of hair is not merely an aesthetic favor, but a potentially life-saving one. Remember ladies, “A man with hair, is the opposite of Smokey the Bear”/keep in mind fellas, “A broad with locks may as well be a pile of rocks. Charcoal rocks.”

Keratin – Toenails are smelly and jabby and sometimes house disgusting, if poorly animated, monsters. Fingernails pose the number #2 threat to rectal integrity behind “accrued chewing gum,” and just before “DFS”– Denticularized Faeces Syndrome. Gross.

Chitin – If you have some kind of carapace, this is an excellent time to shed/’A carapace’ is the number 8 (eight) transmitter of “heebie-jeebies” after “moist (the texture) (#7), “bees, spiders, or any other bug with visible ‘fur’” (#6), “anti-semitism” (#5), “moist (the word)” (#4), “that Mac Tonight character from those late 80’s McDonalds ads” (#3), “hair” (#2), and “the fact that death is real (and not pretend)” (#1), respectively.

Rid body of excess grease, filth, waste matter
Some people will try to talk it up– fawning over how unique it is, giving it overly-worshipful, too-precious-by-half monikers like “the Universal Solvent,” or “Mother Nature’s Hot White Cum;” they urge you to drink 12 glasses a day, claiming it’s good for you and that, if you’d just play their game, you could shake all that visual snow. But I’ll let you in on a dirty little secret– Water isn’t all that.
          Showering, for example– everyone thinks the only way you can get clean is to take liter after liter of our quote-unquote “most precious resource” and pour it down the drain. These people are idiots. If House, M.D. has taught me anything– besides the fact that drug addiction is cool, and also sociopathy– it’s that maggots only eat dead flesh. I know! Now, granted, not all of our bodily mess is dead flesh, which is why, unfortunately, we’ll have to employ a more holistic approach than just a bathtub full of maggots.
1. What if they refuse to eat my poop?
If they refuse to eat your poop, or if you are for-some-reason skittish about the idea of housing a literal buttload of maggots,** you may employ the common dung beetle in their stead. The dung beetle: dry, few, and will roll your (stupid) poop into a ball which you can later huck at others. They are like if Katamari Damacy took place in your butt.
2. What about grease?
I’m pretty sure I remember hearing somewhere about needing fat to clean up fat– it’s why soap is made out of rich women’s asses, and explosives. Well, duh, just take some bacon and scrub up!
3. Jesus, do I have to do everything for you people?
Wait, who’s saying what now
4. Shi-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-it/F-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-fuuuuuck

Scour your genitals
Some parts of the body are too wicked/sin-themed to clean through regular means (i.e. maggots, beetles, bacon). I am referring to, of course, specifically, the Vas Deferens Memorial Gonad-Ovum Tunnel and the fanny [UK]. But how can you clean them thoroughly enough to rid them of all of the awful things you’ve thought/done/thought-and-therefore-have-,-de-facto-,-done? The best way is hot, hot water– boiling, even– and lots of it.***
1.It is rude to taste like soap, but tasting like natural dong/[a fun-and-not-creepy diminutive for the ladies’ ladies] is nast.
2.I’m growing tired of writing this
3.When can I sleep?****

Deodorize
The greatest trick the devil ever played, some pathetic neb of a crook once said, was convincing the world that he didn’t even exist. Think of yourself as the devil, or the devil’s lowliest henchman,***** the magician. The magician’s most important skill isn’t fast hands, a collection of sequined vests, or even inadequate parenting; it is the ability to misdirect.****** Do you see where I’m going with this? Probably not, because it’s a bindle full of old duck eggs, beaks, and assorted duck corpse parts.
YOU NEED TO CREATE A NOSE BAFFLE, a duck blind, ellipses, for the nose. A duck anosmia. A duck blind, but, you know, made out of its offal, unborn childrens, instead of ‘some reeds it will have a tough time seeing you behind’.*******

Wear your most aesthetically pleasing outfit, body
Put your best foot, feet, arms, abs, ass, and handsdick******** forward– exploit organ transplant boards,serial killers’ decidedly non-American-Indian-approach to utilizing their prey to Frankenstein yourself beautiful! (Let’s wrap this up!)

Freshen breath
Don’t forget to check your breath before leaving for your date. If you find it to be rank– don’t worry! There is nothing fresher than the rhymes of a young Will Smith. Just bust out one of your copies of the Men in Black Soundtrack and chew until your smile literally sparkles (with jagged bits of compact disc). Also, if you’re in a rush, or have recently moved and have yet to unpack your copies of the Men in Black Soundtrack, just drink laundry detergent. Skoal!*********

 

 

 

*Excepting, of course, flamms.

**As opposed to being gung-ho, or “scattish,” about it.

***Q: But you said that water wasn’t that great… A: Fuck you.

****See September 24, 2009 aka THE FUTURE

*****Besides wiccans.

******As inability to feel shame is an inadvertently beneficial/pyhrric symptom of accrued derision, and not, technically, a skill (Ditto sequined vests).

*******Wait a second… the bulletin board, the coffee cup, that picture of Kevin Spacey the police sketch artist drew– Keyser Soze is gay!

********Hands & Dick come in a matching set– which explains the oft-repeated falsehood about hand size & penile awesomeness being linked. While hands & penises are a package deal, there is no size:size correlation/causation.

*********Meh.