Thursday, September 27, 2007
SHIT DISASTER
by the end of the week he had eaten us all, well bits and pieces of each of us at any rate.
we'd all been tied together in the bunk in the back and he cut off each of our toes. Finding toes unsatisfying, he cut us all into pieces, bought a bunch of ice and froze us like sirloins, choosing whichever cut he felt like as the days unfolded.
And we'd thought that the zombies were the greatest threat to our survival at that time.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Got a heartbeat produced by god and boy it sound hard.
Don't ask me how to keep carbon monoxide in a bucket. Have some faith, man; it just happens.
I just hope they don't form a union, or ask for a raise. Every time I sneeze, I make another wife a widow, and those benefit packages are costly.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Prehostoric
Simon was tapping at his jar again.
It wasn't unusual to wake late in the evening to the soft plink of Simon feebly knocking his underdeveloped knuckles on the glass, his actions hindered by his suspension in brine and formaldehyde. You soon learned to ignore the sound, most times, as to respond to his call was to find yourself trapped by his lidless gaze, owlish eyes the size of ostrich eggs holding you captive with a penetrating solemnity and glacial patience; it was a look that somehow suggested that Simon and his jar had always been here, surviving kings and prophets, religions and dynasties, and that Simon and his jar would continue long after the spark of our own stumbling monkey civilization had burned out.
Once caught in such a gaze, one found themselves helpless and open to suggestion; many's the time one of us would walk into the storeroom, seeking a fresh light bulb or road-salt for the parking lot, and instead find some hapless soul entranced among the bent radio antennae and broken furniture, staring slack-jawed and slowly loosening the lid to Simon's jar – which was always contrary to Simon's desires, as all he usually wanted was for someone to change the channel on his small black and white RCA television set on the shelf across from his perch.
We always meant to get that lock fixed.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Yr Eyes Are So Big&Pretty
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Sunday, July 22, 2007
All Y'all Haters Can Bite It.
SO JOSH IS AWAY AND THE REST OF US ARE AWAY TOO, BUT HERE STILL.
WE WILL BE -HERE- THOUGH, ONCE WE ALL KNOW WHERE TO REST OUR HEADS'
GOODNIGHT.