Friday, March 23, 2018

Post Title

Flavored Band Aids

Picked up a box of those new EXTREME "flavored" band-aids. I’m not sure how they work, but if you place one over an open wound, you can “taste” the "flavor" of that particular band-aid. So far I’ve “tasted” coffee, coleslaw, horseradish, Swiss cheese, grape, escargot, Cola, hot mustard, bread(?), spinach, pizza, banana and thyme. It’s all very interesting but I’m running out of discreet places to cut myself.

Donald and Sherri at the Membranous Lounge, St. Patrick's Day

TELEVISION CUT-UP (random words from random channels):

I have freedom to live now. But if you work at it you can find it again. Plastic preschool and naturally fertile soil. And then off line. I’m gonna feed him like family. Information as it comes in. One officer opened fire. So damaged it had to be torn down. Killed while doing his job. You love your job, right? We guarantee the best prices. Focuses on machine learning. Epic fun is just a kid-click away. Girls from ten dollars. I can’t accept that. Trying to get ready for Easter? Under an early weather alert. That was a mighty nice thing you done, Grandpa. How many of you are there? For your information I’ve been putting on makeup since I was twelve. Do not miss out ladies and gentlemen. My compliments to the management.

Kooky snowbirds Ronda and Lizzy

Carol was poking around in the muddy field behind my house and found my old ColecoVision game console. Inside the rusted remnants, she discovered a tooth (incisor). It belonged to my friend Adam - god rest his poor, tortured soul. He gave me the tooth (pulled it out himself with needle-nose pliers) to seal an agreement we'd made. The deal became null and void after Adam was shot to death in Chelsea on February 4th, 2002. 😊

Trixie the swimming chimp!

Monday, March 19, 2018

I Found a Tumor On the Bathroom Floor

She is simply there, wearing a large black hat with an awning. I knew her once, a long time ago. Or rather, I knew a younger version of her. She’s in her early 60’s now, ravaged and depleted by a life of raising kids. Her name is Estelle.
     We used to work together at Bobber’s Fish Emporium. I can still smell the clams.
     “Estelle?” I ask her, already formulating what I’m going to say.
     She smiles and shakes her head. “No, sorry. My name is Kimberly,” she informs me.
     “Oh, I’m sorry. You looked like someone...”
     “Don’t we all?”
     An ostrich walked past us with its muddy dinosaur feet.
     And there you have it.
I chopped up the Sermon on the Mount with a razorblade and snorted all the words through a hollowed-out felt pen. Jesus’s words dripped numb in the back of my throat all day. Tomorrow I’m gonna freebase some Kierkegaard because snorting Kierkegaard is a waste. In the meantime, stay hep! because...