Imagine This Thing

There I am, if you look close enough you can see how my clothes don’t fit me and my unkempt hair. Anyhow, there I am, grazing upon delicious green grasses in a meadow that had just seen the last sunshine for the day. Laying on a soft patch of moss after my feast I begin to wonder what life would be like if I had stapler hands. Imagine all the office work I could bind together and have organized for the boss! People wouldn’t dare fuck with me, no one wants to have sharp double pronged metal embedded in their face.

Staple hands could be great, but what about rocket legs? Flying and scorching faces from above. I could be a military weapon of unsurpassed power. Staple hand rocket leg man. Think about projectile nails firing fast through a gun barrel that is my face. BOOM. Now you’re fucked, because here comes Stapnailocket Man to wreck your shit. Try and take this red stapler, I DARE you.

That’d be all well and good, but imagine for a moment that you have a omelet feet and celery fingers. Breakfast with lungs and the ability to math. Not quite your style eh? How about a tape gun dick. Damn boi! Got dat mmm hmmm! Sticky dick Trent is what they’d call you.

I feel like great foobner.

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Rain

 

She jumped, wind blowing fast through her hair, eyes held open. The rain too had jumped from the clouds high above her. Together they were on a fast and exhilarating journey toward the ground. As her body danced freely through the cold, wet air she caught a glimpse of a rain drop. She could see the droplet so clearly, as if time had slowed to halt; it was beautiful. She began to wonder why the rain has to fall from the clouds. Couldn’t there be an easier way to quench the dry soil? Was there not a less pain filled way to reach it’s destination?

The thought of why she had jumped crossed her mind. There was no clear reason behind it, it just felt like something she needed to do. Rain. The water jumps from the clouds, falls seemingly forever, only to hit the ground. When the droplet reaches the ground, life is given new energy. Gaia’s thirst is quenched and the trees continue to filter the oxygen we all breath and shade the gardens where we find tranquility. Beauty flourishes as a result of this fall.

What good could come of my jump from this overpass? What life would thrive in my wake? What, if any, sort of beauty would blossom and fill the world? She believed she could be like the rain, that her fall would quench that thirst. It was justification enough. She felt free for those last few moments before Gaia and her met face to face. She felt warmth and contentment wrap her up tightly; a hug, only to be replaced with the cold hand of regret and broken dreams.


 

 

 

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Here Comes Santa Clause, here Comes Santa Clause, right down Alcohol Lane.

drunk-santa-cartoon

Why don’t we ever hear of Mrs. Clause? There was a time when I was younger (I’m 26 now) when she was around. She helped Santa with the lists and the checking and making food before the annual flight. I’m a bit concerned though with all this mass consumerism going on that maybe she left him. Think about it; Everyone is buying shit on the cheap online and during Black Friday-esq sales and putting Santa out of business. Those letters that children mailed out were making him money. Companies would give Santa a hefty commission for every letter he got with a product of theirs on their. Santa was loaded and that’s why no one ever found where his HQ was in the North Pole, he had it camouflaged from the prying eye of the public to protect his life’s work.

So where is Mrs. Clause? I did some research and found out she was previously married to Jack Frost. He was quite rich back in the 60’s after he licensed his likeness for cartoons and such. She left him when he filed for bankruptcy and Jack was left out in the cold. It’s no surprise that she left Santa, he has been forced to do mall gigs just to get sales and volunteering for the Salvation Army. After digging through public and private records, I discovered that she left Santa in early 2005 and moved back in with Jack Frost around August 2005. She could live no more with the fading holiday icon. Jack Frost helped a young Steve Jobs start Apple Corp. and has since seen an increase in personal revenue. Santa and Mrs. Clause’s marriage had been in turmoil for some years and the fights only got worse as the money stopped coming in. Elves had to laid off, bills were going unpaid and the lavish lifestyle Mrs. Clause had become accustomed to was halted.

I managed to score an interview with The Man in Red and it was disastrous. He cried and cried, and showed me his extensive alcohol addiction. The big guy needs some love this season. So leave the gift giving to Santa this year and next. He needs to be needed, it’s his job and he’s being pushed out by the big corporations. Its another sad story of Mom and Pop goes under cause of BigCorp Global.

P.S. Santa if you’re reading this, you’ll find another woman. That gold-digging whore will know she made a big mistake when she left you. Jack Frost might have more money than God, but your heart is big and warm and overflowing with love. Jack Frost is cock.

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Inane Filth Bath

I can’t wait for you to return home! I shaved my armpits and my back just for you and I await now with great anticipation as to what you might do with my soft body when you come parading through our front door. HARK! my panties have fallen to my ankles and my sports bra is slowly starting to tear apart; my breasts are growing as if they have an erection. OH DO HURRY my love, for if i have to wait for much longer i may have to violate our cooking utensils, i will make the rolling pin my pleasure slave and it WILL please my primal need for sex. What glorious carnal debauchery waits for you my sweet, sweet man muffin, i can smell it now; the hot, wet sexual penetration never stopping, not even to tend to our fresh born son.
Dinner is served, we have mashed potatoes and cunt, now dig in and don’t by shy, there is plenty to go around. I think the neighbor can hear me panting viciously as you send a barrage of balls toward my lathered face, lathered with Dove brand moisturizing soap for an easy clean up and clear pores.

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Diary of a Mad Serial Killer (My moral compass is fucked)

The feeling I get when you come around it like nothing I have ever experienced in my life. When I open the cellar and find you quivering there, scared and alone. nothing can compare to the cold sweats you give me when I thrash you within an inch of your life. I can hardly contain myself as I reach into my pants pocket and withdraw my Swiss army knife. Sliding the blade against my forearms and allowing the nectar to escape; dopamine rushes through my body. You scream and plead for your life and I do nothing to stop myself from dissecting to see what give you such motivation to leave me. I delight in the screams you make, nothing brings me a greater pleasure.

I have kept you in my basement for 23 years. The changes i have seen you go through reassure me that I would be an excellent parent. You have only escaped from the chains once and I was impressed by your ability to see something through; to see your valiant display of perseverance is almost erotic. Now I am in prison and I wish for nothing more than to be next to your cold lifeless body, basking in the memory of what was once the most romantic thing I have ever been a part of.

 

Image

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A Truly Sacred Bond

I had grown up by the time my parents ended their 38 year marriage. I wasn’t really affected by it; I had my own life to live and my own goals to achieve. After about year or so I got curious about why they decided to end the relationship. I never thought they were unhappy with each other. I drove to my father’s house to talk with him, it had been a while since we last saw one another anyhow and a visit would undoubtedly do him some good. He lived on the outskirts of town on an old cattle ranch; the property was perfect for man like him. Lots of nature and fresh air; it was perfect for him to write his music and stories, plus my children loved the massive play area. My father took great joy in having grandchildren to spoil.

I pulled up the dirt driveway and parked next to his truck. He was sitting on the porch playing his guitar and drinking a beer.

“Hey old man! How’s is going?”

“Not bad son, not bad. Sit down and have drink, they’re in the cooler there.” He pointed to a faded blue beach cooler in between the two chairs on his porch. As usual he had it filled with PBR and a few cans of dry roasted peanuts.

“So,” he asked me, “what’s going in your world?”

“Not a lot, work is going pretty good. I have a few days’ vacation this week so I convinced Deb to let me have a day for myself.” I said with a smile. He looked at me in that fatherly way that let you know he knew you had something pressing on your mind.

“Now I can’t imagine you’d come all the way out here just sit down with an old guy and drink beer. What’s on your mind son?” he said.

“Well I’ve been wondering why you and mom got divorced. I’m not broken up about it or anything, just curious that’s all.” He put his beer down on the lid of the cooler, placed the Taylor acoustic in its holder and turned toward me.

“We wanted to explore other things in our life. You know before we don’t have them anymore.” He said this bluntly as if I should have now this fact.

“But I was wondering, isn’t marriage a sacred institution; something to be honored?”

“Let me explain son. Your mother and I spent 38 years together; completely dedicated to each other in every way. I loved her and I still do very much. We got divorced because she wanted to go and do things that had no interest in. I am okay with this; I want her to be happy. That is what true love is all about son; if you love your wife or husband, you’ll do what it takes to see them happy; even if it means we no longer share the same name, bed or household.”

“so did you just sort of grow apart? I can’t imagine you two being cross with one another.”

“I suppose in ways, yes we did; but our love did not fade and we were never cross with each other, at least in the grand scheme of things. You see, the concept of marriage in the world today is so flawed that I’m not sure if most people even know what it is really about. We fight to preserve the sanctity of marriage in our courts, and teach children what the correct way to love is. This is wrong on so many levels,” he picked up his beer and finished it. Reached into the cooler and cracked open a new one, “it is not the sanctity of marriage we should be preserving, it is our feelings and commitments to one another we should be preserving. It don’t matter if you get legally married or if she gets a ring or you share a last name. It’s really about a commitment to love each other.”

“Well yeah, why else would anyone get married? I know some people use it to get rich or whatever; take advantage of an old mans wealth and such.”

“Listen, love comes in all sorts of flavors. Just because I no longer go to church with her or make pancakes in the morning and watch stupid movies with her, doesn’t mean I don’t love her; though some people would have you think differently. If your mother needed me, I would drop whatever it was I was doin’ and be there in a flash. She wanted to explore the world and not in that Indiana Jones sort of way; she wanted to meet people, hear their stories and share experiences that I could never give her. Everyone has something different to offer; I offered her unconditional love and stability at the core. We did have great spontaneous adventures and got in our fair share of trouble. She wanted other things, and we talked about this at times and I always asked her what she wanted to do and i knew it was my duty as her husband to provide her with happiness, even if it meant letting her go.

Your mother is a very loyal woman; you ought to know that right now. We were never had a moment of infidelity between us. We had discussed that when it was time, we would part ways and let one another explore life as we saw fit. She sends me emails about her travels and the people she meets and I share my songs with her still. She even got a few of ‘em sent to Hollywood! I want her to be unchained in this part of her life. She spent so much time cultivating our family and making sure we all had what we needed and I did the same. She deserves to live her life as she sees fit now. I have seen pictures of her; I don’t think I’ve seen quite as happy as she is now.”

 

“You mean, she’s happier without you or something?”

 

“Oh no! No, no, no! She is happier now because she had the opportunity, the blessing to have raised a fine family, spent a lifetime with the man she loved and now gets to be young once again. Wouldn’t you want that for your wife? To see her happier than ever? It’s something you can do no doubt, you’re a good man and I see the way you two hold each other, it’s a true love for sure. Now you must let that love do what it will. Trust it and it will not do you wrong. That’s the only sacred thing, love, and your willingness to uphold that love until death and beyond.”

 

I looked at my father, he smiled at me cracked open another PBR and picked his guitar up. He began playing a tune he wrote when I and my brother were still in grade school.

 *****

“When you feel let down

Let your heart sing to you

It will show you the way

Keep your eyes wide open

Stay on the course and don’t stray.

 

But when you feel like ev’rything is falling around you

Remember you’ve got me

When it gets too dark, hold my hand

You’ll never go astray, with the love from me.”

 *****

We had a few more beers and laughs and before long the sun was going down. We hugged and said our farewells and all that. I started my car and drove off home, knowing that the only thing worth being sacred is love and there was plenty to go around.

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