I didn’t make dis but I love dis

The Company Child is the Father of the Company Man

I ask him: “Would you rather watch Billy Graham fuckin’ or Jenna Jameson reading the Bible?”

He smiles, his whole face a Mars-red acne eruption.

“Jenna Jameson…The Bible.”

He’s younger than me. Home-schooled. Sharp.

He’s traveled and lived in a lot more places than I have.

I can’t decide if he’s gotten laid (at his age I hadn’t).

If he has
he probably paid cash for it
just like I did
(he did live in Amsterdam a few months).

Though I have no faith
in my own advice
I tell him if/when he makes it to
upper management don’t be a fucking prick
who shits on others.

In his heart I’m sure he knows I’m right
but that’s probably as far as it will go,
in business, truth has no legs or traction.

Though I’m barely 10+ years older
he is the future and I am the past.

I’ll kill myself if I’m still around when he makes it.

Email to a potential suicide

Dear ____,

I read your ‘have a potato’ email.

If the specter of suicide is that close, I respectfully request you please put in your will a gift to me of US$1000. I promise I will use the money to fly to visit ______, then onward to San Diego, where I will cross the Mex-Sicken border and drain balls as many times in the whorehouse with whatever of the $$$ is left.

Setting aside a little dough for me is more important than leaving it to bald, sick kids who will die anyway or some hippie nature preserve that will use the dough to buy weed. My happiness is more important than Mother Earth’s, and though I’ve suffered long and you have suffered longer, if you end it now, I’ll STILL be suffering while you’ll be at peace.

At least for a little awhile.

You probably don’t know or care about God/the gods, but THINK: with as much trouble and hassle as life is, do you really think death will be an escape? Would the Gods of Torment, IRS and DMV really allow such an easy escape route, like an unguarded vent cover in the secret base in a James Bond movie?

All right, you have my two cents. In exchange I would like US$1000 in the will, please. It will give you something to do, and you can leave the earth knowing you passed along some hope and courage and bought vagina. Good karma, man! You will be happy one day in this life or the next but it’s up to you.

Prophecy

the alternate universe got away
while this one turned out…
well, you know.

you’ve become what you feared
all those years ago
when you could outrun time.

the Prophecy has been fulfilled.

it’s not so bad but for the deer heads
on every wall,

reminding

you shine now only in eyes
of glass.

the price of living in the wrong ending.

Fine Art. Bidding starts at US$1000

RNA Polymerase II Holoenzyme Protocol For Purification

Men:

When you’re jerking it and are just about to spray the room, press down firmly on the area behind your balls.

When you ejaculate, there will be some leakage but 99% of the man yogurt will harmlessly reroute itself into your bladder.

It feels…different, not as good as coming the usual way.

So why bother?  Variety.  This technique is supposed to keep “sexual energy” contained in the body or some nonsense.

Don’t “come” complaining to me if your balls explode from trying this.  I don’t even know you.

The Comedic Fury of ATLAH!!!!

I mightily enjoy the entertaining sermon-rants of The Honorable Pastor James David Manning.

Manning believes God renamed Harlem ATLAH and has cursed all Black people. He also seems to believe by his prayers he has been an instrument to destroy ‘wicked’ Black people around the globe via AIDS and poverty, a kooky claim. Manning also declares that Blacks are “dying all over the world” but it just ain’t so, and a majority of Black Americans continue to do extremely well.

While I’m against Iraq Hussein Osama because he’s a marxist and unqualified for the Oval Office, Manning wastes no time on such arguments and instead goes right for the jugular, democrat-style, claiming Obama was “born trash” and is a trashy pimp. As much as I dislike Osama, no one is born trash. It’s an unfair attack, but I still like Manning’s multiple anti-Obama sermons because they’re hilarious (Manning has made a few appearances on Fox, none of which I’ve bothered to watch since they’re tame compared to performances at his own pulpit).

It’s a shame about Manning’s kookery because about a third of the content of his sermons are aimed with sniper’s precision at people who truly need to hear his message: incorrigible Black Trash, men shooting and raping at the Astrodome during Katrina, and in a particularly sad sermon, a generic story of a Black baby born into poverty by an underage girl, the breeder father nowhere to be found.

While Manning doesn’t care for Bill Clinton, he points out that while in office Clinton channeled much money into Black communities, and now these hypocrites are repaying him by shilling for Barack. Why? Because, “Black people have no honor! No in-TEG-grity!”

Manning may very well be a kook; that doesn’t bother me in the slightest. It means all the tricks and turns liberal bolsheviks use to grind their opponents down won’t work on him. And that one-third of what Manning preaches is truth: stop blaming Bush, stop blaming Whites, forget affirmative action which suggests and reinforces ideas of inferiority, show up for work on time, save yourself, bite the bullet, be a MAN.

None of the for-profit charlatans like Alfred $harpton, Je$$e Jackson, Loui$ Farrakook and other no-goodnik apologists for disgraceful behavior by poor Blacks have done a damned thing for anybody. They will NEVER tell the incorrigibles what they need to hear. Manning does, even if no one listens.

THAT”S what makes him offensive to the Obamorgists and liberals in general, he’s a man who refuses to be a victim, and has no qualms about calling Black failures and their pimping leaders on their bullshit. The most the left can do is weakly try to “align” Manning with conservatives, trying in vain to make him a counterpart to Jeremiah “Lithium” Wright.

HA HA HA HA HA!

love/love

another day you didn’t earn or ask for
is gone.

you didn’t do what you needed to do
and now
it’s night
(79.8 degrees:  too warm for windows).

You wonder if your life will always be like this,
if it would be better to take it back with drastic measures.

Well, you won’t this close to bedtime.  Tomorrow work starts
early.

What a shit way to end a poem and continue a life,
you’re a can of freshly-opened tennis balls
with one already missing.

Smallville yanks the football once again, Charlie Brown

Just finished the latest ep of Smallville.

As Lionel Luthor flew (straight down) to his death he neither shouted nor flailed but smiled enigmatically. At that moment I knew it wasn’t the character but character actor John Glover who was smiling, because except for probably a few flashbacks he’s done with the ongoing disaster my once-favorite show has become.

Once again, after waiting weeks, a new episode rewards we idiot faithful with less than a minute of action in a story that stretched 10 minutes of plot into 40 minutes of shit dialogue and uninspired acting.

Everyone responsible for this show has given up. No one gives a shit. Except for the Vancouver crew behind the camera (you know a show stinks when you’re thinking about how many crew members it took to create the sets) I sense everyone is as tired and fed-up of this show as its long-suffering fans.

So now Lionel Luthor is dead, murdered by Lex. No one knows how to react to this, including the people that wrote this crap. And no one cares.

Here’s a brief eulogy:

Lionel Luthor was a character created in probably 5 minutes. He was created as a symbol of the ruthless greed and lack of creativity of Smallville’s producers. Lionel’s creation was a risky move, since there were no comic books with his backstory to fall back on then ignore.

Depending on the Thursday at hand Lionel was many things to many people: plot device, cartoon villain, Darth Vader figure to his iconic son, sociopath, evil non-genius, corporate cutthroat, philanthropist, blind man, wife abuser, killer of his own parents, government agent puppetmaster, secret society secretary, serial murderer, kidnap victim, assassination target, organized crime dabbler, exploiter of Native American Canadians, borrower of Clark’s powers and shameless flirt with Martha Kent.

He was also a foil for Bo Duke, er, Jonathan Kent, when Jonathan was alive, but that was so long ago no one remembers.

While played with sincere competence by actor John Glover, Lionel was never a likable or interesting character. Even after he was morally “changed” by discovering Clark’s secret + getting a zap from the Jor-El ex machina, he remained more or less the same, only with a flared mullet to remind others of his ruthless leonine prowess.

Speaking of leonine, Lionel Luthor was passionately in love with the letter L. Not only did he marry a woman whose name began with an L (Lillian), there was son Lex, half-brother one-shot Lucas, Lulian the dead baby, Lana, Lason, Lhloe, Limmy Olsen, Lois and Clark. (Had Clark been named Lark, Lionel would’ve adopted him outright).

All in all, Lionel Luthor was a wonderful character who helped explain why Lex Luthor has been, is, or will be evil, except when he was used by lazy writers as filler and to put the brakes on an already plodding and tedious jalopy of a plot, or once-again threatening Ms. Sullivan.

Lionel will not just be missed but SUPER-missed until the next flashback, dream sequence or the T-1000 Brainiac replicates him to fool Lex into thinking Lex is crazy. The end……………..OR IS IT?

I also got to see the rerun of the months-old episode where Lex goes to Detroit-couver to rescue Super-Blondie. I, like the other 50 or so Smallville fans left in the world, audibly gasped (or didn’t) when Lex got shot exactly where the third eye is in meditation! I was worried Lex was going to die!–just like I was worried that girl that was Luke’s mother in Star Wars Episode 2 would die in the Willy Wonka Robot Factory before getting pregnant with Luke!

Though I still have the ep starring a pack of gum to look forward to, I still pray:

Sweet Kara, Mother of Clark, make this awful season end already.

“eternal defeat”

I’m surrounded by defeat, drowned by it.

The young are not strong enough to bear the load.

The middle-aged are Judged, indifferent, solace-seeking in lost youth.

Upbeat elders are taken down like elephants by Time’s slow bullet.

Success is a roller coaster few are tall enough to ride.

Suicide, molestation, poverty, heartbreak, fires, floods, shrapnel in the wind, clutter the homepages of souls surrounding mine (don’t worry, I get my share too, or will).

The fucked don’t get love, the lovers don’t fuck or get to.

The ashes of tomorrow feed the flowers of today, already down for the count.

Minute by minute it seems bearable.  In the end, nothing is.