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We are humbly gathered here today, in the year of our Lord twenty-aught-one to speak of - in fact - pay homage to, that Lord, our Saviour Jesus H. Christ. Let me start by saying goddamn Christ & that shirt he always wore. You know the one - the one that looked like a bowling shirt, but heavier (lighter metaphysically) - especially when changing the dynamics of the contingencies. Anyway, this God that we do such a good job of living without - fuck him & his mother-humping son. Did Jesus ever get laid? I think I covered all this in Poorman�s Passion Play. Life (well, hold on - let me start a new paragraph). Goddamn the pen, cos I forgot what I was talking about. Do you ever rub your toe against something while lying in bed at night & it kinda excites you cos it could be the boogie man - or it could just be your Snoopy underroos? Listen, it wasn�t Snoopy or Charlie Brown, it was fucking-to-the-boards Peanuts. Is that clear? Nominate me for chrissakes. And don�t pretend you don�t know what I�m talking about, either. It was at the party - THE party. I know, even though I didn�t see it personally (I was way too drunk). I�ve been told what happened, & only just what they saw, so more could have conspired. It makes me sad to know the parties involved - not being THE party, besides being plural - were not, are not, & more than likely won�t be in the future - honest about it. Scary thought as well. When will they fess up - the longer the wait, the harder the payoff. Kamikaze News: Dying to bring you the news, but not in a conventional way. A stop & go kinda way. I forgot I was talking about Jesus Ach,eh Christo. Or was I talking about Catholic school girls & their backpacks. Rosy vag lips. The humping and gurgling sounds of Torontoans staying in Cleveland. I think the Tribe is in town. It�s their town anyway, regardless of what the parking meters say. I think they say Lenawee County, even though that�s somewhere else - but it does exist, if only in our mind�s eye. The whole concept of the "Mind�s Eye" is revolting to me. Or maybe I just mean plain. The City�s on Flame with Rock �N� Roll. There�s not much to not like about that. Except maybe the flame part. I�d like to tell you the story now of a boy. He never really fit in. Always an outsider, with a slight interest in what was going on inside, but not enough to look. |