Friday, August 31, 2012
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Barnacles
Are you my ideal?
You feel more like a
cerebral barnacle!
Cabbie married a cabbie.
Their offspring had five ears.
Ears like barnacles!
Conchs eat barnacles!
Conchs eat barnacles!
Conchs eat barnacles!
Then the barnacles scream like the sea!
You feel more like a
cerebral barnacle!
Cabbie married a cabbie.
Their offspring had five ears.
Ears like barnacles!
Conchs eat barnacles!
Conchs eat barnacles!
Conchs eat barnacles!
Then the barnacles scream like the sea!
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Monday, August 27, 2012
Best Wishes
Maggots in my genome!
Gnats in my snoot!
I can't even get a date with a
comatose Texas divorcee!
Vogue is giving away an Aston-Martin
to whoever can keep the most women away from me.
My mom screamed when she saw the sonogram!
Please God make it go away and I'll
eat my vagina!
Gnats in my snoot!
I can't even get a date with a
comatose Texas divorcee!
Vogue is giving away an Aston-Martin
to whoever can keep the most women away from me.
My mom screamed when she saw the sonogram!
Please God make it go away and I'll
eat my vagina!
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Psycho-Economics
My cerebral raccoon...
Your what?
My neuronal corncob...
Your what?
Cake for cake!
Coke for coke!
Puke for puke!
I'm the nuke of the new economics!
I'm the nosecone of no second chance!
Your what?
My neuronal corncob...
Your what?
Cake for cake!
Coke for coke!
Puke for puke!
I'm the nuke of the new economics!
I'm the nosecone of no second chance!
Friday, August 24, 2012
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Comprehensive Exegesis of Pussy Riot
The key to understanding Pussy Riot is a series of punchlines for the signature joke of All the Russias...
How drunk was Pussy Riot?
Drunk enough to fuck in a museum!
How drunk was Putin?
Drunk enough to make Pussy Riot the most famous band in the world!
How drunk was Father Kirill?
As drunk as Mother Russia!
How drunk was Mother Russia?
As drunk as God!
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Homeroom Operetta
Methamphetamine in the morning,
chemotherapy at noon,
cloves in my glove...
Homeopathy is a metaphor for love.
What's your cure-word, hootie mama?
Is my gel on your elm?
Is my yam in your ape?
Is my bee in your glee-cat?
What's your cure-word, hootie mama?
I never forgot our homeroom operetta!
chemotherapy at noon,
cloves in my glove...
Homeopathy is a metaphor for love.
What's your cure-word, hootie mama?
Is my gel on your elm?
Is my yam in your ape?
Is my bee in your glee-cat?
What's your cure-word, hootie mama?
I never forgot our homeroom operetta!
Monday, August 20, 2012
Ain't Nobody's Business If I Do
I recorded Billie Holiday's great blues tune on my venerable Yamaha Kx8 keyboard, later added a simple walking bass-line with a Peavey Millenium bass ($124 from Full Compass!), mixed it down with Sonar Producer, and transcribed it into video with the dumbed-down version of Stephen Malinowski's Music Animation Machine which he released to the public.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Ellis Island
Maybe grandma slammed down a few too many smoothies,
but she's still a cohesive monolith.
Hemline on the horizon!
Snitches in the schools!
Did you really want to dance with grandma,
little man?
You never had a chance!
Grandma got the moon!
You got a sitcom in your underpants!
but she's still a cohesive monolith.
Hemline on the horizon!
Snitches in the schools!
Did you really want to dance with grandma,
little man?
You never had a chance!
Grandma got the moon!
You got a sitcom in your underpants!
Friday, August 17, 2012
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Griffith Park
Sallie sashays downstairs in her
négligée and says the
ignition is broken again on her broken-down Volvo.
On the street I can hear Ronnie rolling up the
awning at Café Intelligentsia and Enrique starts
shouting at his dog in back of
Enrique's Auto Parts...
Junkyard dog in the infinite junkyard.
négligée and says the
ignition is broken again on her broken-down Volvo.
On the street I can hear Ronnie rolling up the
awning at Café Intelligentsia and Enrique starts
shouting at his dog in back of
Enrique's Auto Parts...
Junkyard dog in the infinite junkyard.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
1935
Poem
Sickle moon in a scribble of branches
and me already writing a poem…
when one of a thousand
village idiots who roam the streets of Hollywood
sneaks up behind me
and
honks a plastic bike-horn!
Big smiles all around!
and me already writing a poem…
when one of a thousand
village idiots who roam the streets of Hollywood
sneaks up behind me
and
honks a plastic bike-horn!
Big smiles all around!
Monday, August 13, 2012
Sacerdotal Catchwords
Children!
Get out your crayons!
Today we redecorate the universe!
Children!
Memorize the sacerdotal catchwords!
Mutilate the electors!
Roast the scrotal oldsters!
Children!
Get out your crayons!
Today we redecorate the universe!
Get out your crayons!
Today we redecorate the universe!
Children!
Memorize the sacerdotal catchwords!
Mutilate the electors!
Roast the scrotal oldsters!
Children!
Get out your crayons!
Today we redecorate the universe!
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Amnesia
Gink the pink, paupers!
Poop your pitiful shoes for pre-teen voyeurs!
Inseminate your hernias!
It could be worse!
You inherit amnesia!
There's no next verse!
Poop your pitiful shoes for pre-teen voyeurs!
Inseminate your hernias!
It could be worse!
You inherit amnesia!
There's no next verse!
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Your Life Depends on This Building
This is a photo of Reactor 4 at Fukushima in May 2012. Reactor 4 stores about 1500 nuclear fuel-rods in a cooling pool more than 100 feet above the ground. The common cooling pool containing another 6300 spent-fuel rods is located less than 100 meters from the base Reactor 4. If Reactor 4 collapses, surviving workers at the site, if any, will immediately depart, and all the water in the common pool will boil away. 1500 + 6300 = 7800 nuclear fuel rods will burn. All maintenance on every other installation at Fukushima will cease, and all nuclear material on-site will ignite. Northern Japan including Tokyo will be evacuated. All maintenance at every other nuclear installation in Northern Japan will shut down, after workers are either evacuated or die on the job. Cooling and containment vessels at all these installations will shut down, and all the nuclear material they contain will melt-down or ignite, and...
You will perish, wherever you are.
2008
I'll vote for a paper-clip under my refrigerator before I waste another vote on a Democrat.
I'll vote for a door-knob or a box of toothpicks before I waste another vote on a Democrat.
I'll vote for a hatbox with a severed head in it before I waste another vote on a Democrat.
It isn't a choice between Nader and the Democrats!
It's a choice between Nader and a plastic spoon with ants on it!
It's a choice between Nader and four broken pencils!
It's a choice between Nader and a 1988 Oklahoma license plate!
It's a choice between Nader and nothing!
I'll vote for a door-knob or a box of toothpicks before I waste another vote on a Democrat.
I'll vote for a hatbox with a severed head in it before I waste another vote on a Democrat.
It isn't a choice between Nader and the Democrats!
It's a choice between Nader and a plastic spoon with ants on it!
It's a choice between Nader and four broken pencils!
It's a choice between Nader and a 1988 Oklahoma license plate!
It's a choice between Nader and nothing!
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
How China Brutalizes Its Children For Olympic "Glory"
These images came to my attention on Natalia Radulova's LiveJournal at http://radulova.livejournal.com/2730503.html
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Girl from Villa Reale
My mother and father have gone into town.
In the flowering fields you and I will lie down
and conceive a fine son.
We will name him Pascual
and he'll be an arch-bishop, Pope, or cardinal,
or he'll be a pig-farmer in Villa Reale.
In the flowering fields you and I will lie down
and conceive a fine son.
We will name him Pascual
and he'll be an arch-bishop, Pope, or cardinal,
or he'll be a pig-farmer in Villa Reale.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Lilian Lenton, Indomitable Arsonist and Suffragette
The great British campaigner for women's rights Lilian Lenton is so little known or recognized today that her photo showed up in my Pinterest feed as a generic suffragette...
"In 1912, Scotland Yard detectives bought their first camera, to covertly photograph suffragettes. The pictures were compiled into ID sheets for officers on the ground."
But Lilian Lenton was just about as generic as King Kong!
"In Holloway Prison she held a hunger strike for two days before being forcibly fed, which caused her to become seriously ill with pleurisy caused by food entering her lungs. It took two doctors and seven wardens to restrain her. She was quickly and quietly released. Her case created an outrage among the public, made worse by the fact that the Home Secretary, Reginald McKenna, denied that she had been force fed and that her illness was actually caused by her hunger strike. However, Home Office papers show that she was force fed on February 23, 1913. A letter to The Times in 1913, from Victor Horsley, a leading surgeon, claimed “...the Home Secretary’s attempted denial that Miss Lenton was nearly killed by the forcible feeding is worthless...she was tied into a chair and her head dragged backward across the back of the chair by her hair. The tube was forced through the nose twice . . . after the second introduction when the food was poured in, it caused violent choking.”
"It took two doctors and seven wardens to restrain her." Ms. Lenton was 5'2" tall, and slender!
And back she went to prison again and again and again.
"She was arrested in October 1913 while collecting a bicycle from the left luggage office at Paddington Station, and while on remand went on a hunger strike and a thirst strike, for which she was again forcibly fed. Her physical health again being seriously affected by this treatment, she was released on licence for 5 days into the care of a Mrs Diplock of London, but again absconded."
And every time she got out of prison...
"Whenever I was out of prison my object was to burn two buildings a week. The object was to create an absolutely impossible condition of affairs in the country, to prove it was impossible to govern without the consent of the governed."
GOP Dumps Romney, Drafts John Roberts, and Wins
When I predicted John Roberts' eventual candidacy for President a few weeks ago, I imagined him running in 2016, but if Mitt Romney really paid zero or next to nothing in the way of income taxes for the last ten years, his candidacy will sink like an anchor on a very short chain and drag hundreds of other Republican candidates down with him, unless the Republican leadership and their billionaire masters dump Romney's unlikeable butt and draft John Roberts, who would crush Barack Obama in the general election.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Mouth
Now it's probably time to apologize to my mom.
I garrotted her twice for the same tacky haircut!
Then I stole her cheroots!
Touché!
I garrotted the gnats on her goiter!
Touché!
I garrotted the goop in her grotto!
Touché!
Are you looking at me with your mouth?
I garrotted her twice for the same tacky haircut!
Then I stole her cheroots!
Touché!
I garrotted the gnats on her goiter!
Touché!
I garrotted the goop in her grotto!
Touché!
Are you looking at me with your mouth?
Thursday, August 2, 2012
At Villa Carlotta
Courtyard of Villa Carlotta
I'm house-sitting this week in the dear old Villa Carlotta at 5959 Franklin Ave in Hollywood, where I perched in the hunky-dory decade of Clinton/Gore, and before me Edward G. Robinson, Kurt Weill, Louella Parsons, David O. Selznick, Marion Davies. Five bookstores and four funky coffee-shops within a block, all of them now teeming with the next generation of New Hollywood writers, producers, directors, scene-painters, drummers, best boys, key grips, gaffers, and actors, and when I lean down to look at a scrap of paper on the sidewalk, it's a page of a script with an agent's notes scrawled all over it: "I don't feel this character! Flesh her out!"
Around midnight my friend calls from Barcelona. Did I feed the cat? Did I mist the orchid? Yes, I misted the orchid! I hope it blooms forever!
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Sudden Ending
Transgender strangler walks into a bar,
strangles everybody in it,
drinks all the booze,
skins all the corpses,
sells the skin on eBay.
Now he's writing a book about Olympic anteaters.
There's no such thing!
strangles everybody in it,
drinks all the booze,
skins all the corpses,
sells the skin on eBay.
Now he's writing a book about Olympic anteaters.
There's no such thing!
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2012
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August
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- Runway
- Barnacles
- Mila Kunis
- Best Wishes
- AmericanPoverty.org
- Khyber Pass, Afghanistan, 1955
- Psycho-Economics
- 200 Years of Guns From Whitey
- AmericanPoverty.org
- Comprehensive Exegesis of Pussy Riot
- Arne Bang - Ceramics
- The American Legacy in Afghanistan
- Homeroom Operetta
- Luzon - 1892
- Ain't Nobody's Business If I Do
- Ellis Island
- Cuffs
- Griffith Park
- 1935
- Poem
- Sacerdotal Catchwords
- Amnesia
- Your Life Depends on This Building
- 2008
- Drive-time in Hollywood
- How China Brutalizes Its Children For Olympic "Glory"
- Girl from Villa Reale
- Lilian Lenton, Indomitable Arsonist and Suffragette
- GOP Dumps Romney, Drafts John Roberts, and Wins
- Chloe Moretz
- Rachel McAdams
- Mouth
- At Villa Carlotta
- Sudden Ending
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August
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