clambering over the bodies

... so it goes, another holiday shot, shived and shoved, pushed aside, in a glide, diced, sliced and iced to make room for another as the band plays on bing bang bong.

the years are blurring like a reflection in the subway windows as it careens through the 42nd street station at 78 mph and i can't get on and i can't get off, just riding it out too tired to care in this winter of my discontent with no meaning as i age away and as usual... so it goes.

nippled & dyned to deaf

if it aint one thing it's another first it's hot then it's cold then it's hot. and then it's hot and then it's not and then it is. man this is taking it's toll this back and forth tittytatty bangbang because the yard already needs re-painting and the sky's burned out and needs a new one and my feet are old all the trees have all called in nude and headed to re-education camps & i'm sick and tired of being sick and tired of this heart of darkness morality play that keeps careening round and round my brainpan dodging clots while the dogs bay themselves to sleep without consideration for those of us emerging from the pool armed & ready and well shitfire that fucker needs a paint job too come to think of it better get on it.

hellifino this is expensive this always something never a dull laugh or cry oh well and ride the grey dog on out a here live to ride ride to live lucy i'm home moment but still...... what would be the point if you can't stand still long enough to find out?

'splain that.

from the subliminal to the subdural

this time of year disturbs me like a spike in sun spots and other solar activity that fucks with the tidal basins in my head disturbs me. i tell an old friend how i hate christmas and laugh. he says you do not and laughs. i chuckle back and say oh yes i do. then we change the subject and the elevator music plays on and the crowd is nice meanwhile the troops are not home yet godammit and now everybody in the world knows how to throw a grenade at the president and the next guy coming in is an african american born on the islands and shoots hoops and is under glass and covered from every manhole and rooftop and three piece suit in towns everywhere and i catch a whiff of the christmas tree lots as i drive by and remember the good old days and how i hate christmas now because they're charging 150+ bucks for that damn 4 foot farm raised fir and they stick it in sugar water for 3 weeks and sit around and ooh and aah it to death and drag it to the dump after the new year ambushed your sorry ass again as per usual and begins the slow crawl through january and fuck here we go.
shit.
i cant hardly wait for next summer so i can look forward to next winter and think about those christmas trees that remind me of my youth when we couldnt wait for next christmas during next summer. bah!
i hate christmas. no really.

oogedy-boogedy

so i'm kinda like a Wednesday opening on my busy shedyule this week will have mines call ya'lls and make it so eh? hot spicey noodles for lunch sound fartingly good what's not to like? and will leave room for fried greased supper-aramabamadingdong for balance mere hours later oooh baby oooh...


re:
best thing about people like Hank Giroux is that you can read their stuff, ponder their stuff and ignore their stuff without fear of an eraser being thrown at your nodding off forehead knocking out your stuff or miss anything else new for that matter in the comfort of your own home at the same time and stuff.

...alas learning critical thinking is a choice sadly enough like a career flinging shit.

however ol' stick as you know, me thunks crit think skills are essential to staying above the fray which is where the clearer visions are unless of course ok is good enough which is whatever feels good but the biological awareness of an uppity selfdom is still a serious focal point and leg up in understanding the point of it all anyway without being utterly ridiculous and mired in mind-numbing soul-sucking haircut boredom and just ok know what i mean?


watch more history channel or else.


bwoohahahaz

2 to 4 bits worth

Just what this country needs; a good war and a 5 cent cigar.

ha! thesesillyassholes...put everybody to work for the military-industrial complex making munitions for a better mummers world and a soup kithchen for the homies and their friends my friends, the muzzle of a gun is the only way to run a railroad because we're not here to introduce the local flora and fauna to the joy and freedom of democracy people, we're here to enforce the democracy people and if that means state sponsored terrorism in the name of democracy my friends then bygoodgod almighty come on down, we'll just do it and never mind the founding fathers and some vision of Camelot with a side of beef in every pot posing for a Norman Rockwell painting under some carpet bombs from 30,000 feet and never warned about.




this calls for another brigade strength phalanx of suicide for effect, Mr. Gridley, you may fire when ready.

damn the mosquitoes, full speed to dead.

catch 'em next time.

meanwhile--- slinc er slim and life's too short and we're all fucked anyway so might as well roll over and go back to sleep.

the alarm goes off soon enough.