Hookers or Cake

“I haven’t been touched like that in ages,” Rose whispered to Stella after the mandatory TSA pat down.

“Hell I aint been touched period, in… well I guess its been almost 20 years.” sighed Stella.

The dormant oxytocin released into their systems as a result of human contact now produced a flush and rush of feelings and emotions.

“I need a fucking cigarette,” declared Stella standing up.

“Oh Stella, there aint a cigarette around here for twenty miles.”

“Bullshit!” Stella blurted. “I saw a smoking room next to that bar. Come on Rose, lets go get a drink.”

And the two of them tottered off in search of a Pall Mall and a proper Tom Collins.

Later that evening someone got a phone call. It seems that grandma had broke her hip, falling off of a bar.

words by Hookers or Cake pic via

(Source: )

The bright recognition of ones own mortality, poops on the ol giggle parade.

Last night I was visited by 3 Elvis’s

The young, crazy vibrant Elvis

The fat, drugged old Elvis

and the massive dead Elvis

They told me to change my ways baby

that I was losing hydrogen and helium at my core

while expanding in mass.

then they asked me if I was going to eat that

they were pointing at a bare wall

I said no and stepped aside.

They tore the drywall from the studs and young Elvis thrust his manhood upon it making love to it in several different ways and yet somehow all at once.

Fat Elvis crushed up the parts young Elvis was done with. He snorted up the dust but the larger parts he cooked into a cosmic frittata using a red hot skillet.

Dead Elvis just held the whole scene in its infinite mouth - his massive mutton chops would close in upon it obliterating all light and sound. Then the giant horns would sound and the mutton chops lift and the whole cycle would begin again.  This repeated itself all through the commercial break during the age of Kali Yuga and then we went for ice cream.

I saw your god shaking on the ground,

a teenage boy, high school football player.

He’d had his bell rung and I was helping the trainer get him back to the locker room. We were walking slowly along the unlit gravel access road between the football field and the woods.

The kid was crying out in some language I’d never heard before. (Was it Latin?)

Finally he turned to Terry, the trainer and said “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding…  it was the weather. I couldn’t see!” Terry grabbed the boy by the jersey and screamed at him. “Fuck you Dad! I hate you!” and he dropped him and stormed off. I was helping the kid back up when suddenly he sprinted off in the opposite direction towards the woods. So I gave chase, the kid was hurt and obviously he didn’t know where or who he was. About 15 yards into the woods I couldn’t see a damn thing, it was pitch black. I stopped to listen. I couldn’t hear anything but my own breathe and the faint sounds of the football stadium. I knelt down peering ahead trying to let my eyes adjust to the darkness. I saw a dim glowing blueish light off in the distance. It seemed to be moving. Then I also thought I heard some tinkling bells. I walked towards the light. But whenever I began to move the light would stop and then I would stop and then then the light would move again. Finally with the hair standing up on the back of my neck I inhaled deeply and just ran as fast as I could towards it. The last thing I remember was falling and falling into the light and seeing a face.

A face that I recognized but couldn’t place.

Having grown weary from one too many car insurance commercials the old bear decided to end it all.

He made large pan of macaroni and cheese with about 30 crushed Dilaudid pills, hummed himself a happy little tune and sat down for his last supper.
The old bear was about halfway through the mac-n-cheese when he began to cry.

All the emotions and memories he hadn’t felt in years came rushing back. It was like he’d forgotten everything.

He’d forgotten being a little cub and playing in the sun. Forgotten his mother and how she loved him, in her crazy fucked way. Catching fish in the cold rushing river. Mauling and eating campers with his old pals.

 A powerful euphoria now overtook him. He wasn’t sure if it was the drugs or the emotions and old memories. He lurched up from his barcalounger and out the front door. The smell of the great outdoors hit him. AHHHH Yes! He wanted to live. He wanted to have new experiences. But it was too late. He began sobbing again.

Lucky for him the Dilaidid made him incredibly nauseous and just then he projectile vomited a massive geyser of bright yellow drug laced stew some 12 feet in the air. It landed with thunderous ker-splat in the bushes in front of his cave. He was going to live. He staggered back inside and slept it off.

 For several hours afterwords, the local towns people had the surreal experience of making friends with all the extra special sweet and calm little forest creatures. Little squirrels, raccoons and possums… they were all so docile and loving that even a child could play with them. That is until the powerful opiate that they’d ingested from all the bear vomit they ate wore off.

and thats how Uncle Billy lost most of his face.

God plays Chinese checkers
on multiple boards
in multiple dimensions…

poem to be continued

I am starting a new business in which I will teach people how to shoot guns with their feet. This way a person will be able to SHOOT 4 GUNS AT ONCE!!!

 I learned the trick from the lowland gorillas of the Congo. In exchange I taught the gorillas how to make a simple apple crisp using a clay oven. It was surprisingly quite delicious but then I made the mistake of mentioning that it’d be even better if we had some ice cream. The gorillas then insisted that I teach them how to make ice cream. I tried to explain that this was impossible, that it required ice… we’d need electricity… and they wouldn’t hear of it. I barely escaped with my life.

So now I’ll make my millions with my new business and I’ll return to the jungle with a diesel generator. I will become a god. The Emperor of Ice Cream!

:

Still the greatest song ever

.

after a long day of competitive arm wrestling - it is this simple delicious grace that unwinds my manic masculinity into a ocean of subtle beauty - YAY! dear friends we are here! we are ALIVE!

So I killed my computer. Fried the bios. Its not too big of deal. I had a lot of my stuff on an external drive. I’ll have to rescan most of drawings for my book and recreate a few other things as well.  Its more annoying than anything. Working/fixing computers just crushes any drop of creativity I might have. 

The book is coming along real well though. Actually its pretty much done. We just have to tweak it and finalize the layout. Then its off to the printer for our fist proof. 

Oh hey I could use one thing. I am looking for a couple of more pull out quotes for the back cover. You know where Oprah writes “This book is better than a dove bar filled with delicious meats…” and hey if you happen to be famous I can use your real name and thats one fewer lawsuit for me. If your not famous just tell me that you are and I won’t know. Just say your on that reality show where midgets perform plastic surgery on homeless people… I hear its a triumph of the human spirit, sad but joyously so.

email me your quote at bosjade at gmail.com

or just reply

or answer?

The best quote will be on the front cover of my new book and dozens upon dozens of people will see it.  It’ll become a mantra for disenchanted sex workers and used golf pro’s alike.

?

In the future

When I’m a young girl

Fighting giant, alien spiders

On a distant and far-a-way planet

This is the picture that I will keep in my locket

I will take it out and gaze upon it

when I am battle weary and forlorn

as I find that it refreshes my very soul.

Me and God were roomies back when he was working on his big book. God was kind of a dick. You know the type of guy that orders pizza and pays for it when the girls are over, but then makes you pay him back in cash the next day. That and he always wanted feedback on his stupid book.

 I kept trying to tell him that it was too long and boring. Also you couldn’t always be killing everyone and then have the ‘good guys’ impregnating their own daughters, it’s gross. He wouldn’t listen. I did help him with the ending a touch. He originally had a giant ape winning 6 - 2. But I pointed out that not only did it not make any sense, but people generally don’t have much empathy for giant flesh eating apes. No one is gonna git all hot bothered about salvation only to be dominated for eternity by some Bigfoot rip-off. You gotta trick em. Tell em their boss will be some laid back hippie who always has weed. Tell em they’ll have gold mansions and virgins and that the Flaming Lips do 3 shows a day. Tell em everything is free and they’ll live forever. I mean people got no imagination, so just let em imagine endless wealth.

Ohhh and have the whole book end as a fever dream so folks don’t take it to literal…