7-8-08
[Exploding Tickets, Pt. II (Spider's Sellin' Rides)]






"The young Dope in the Oleo pants... HE LIVES!"

The announcement came way of bullhorn & mega-bullhorn. The Changeling danced & mocked the 5 sisters congregate on the sidewalk outside. Someone threw a stink bomb into the arena and five jittery cue-ball smokers bit down on their trusty cyanide tooth in unison. Women shared their legs with women who had none & all of a sudden a call went up above the crowd that the first of the helicopters would be leaving shortly.
Retard Lanny & the Piq-Face Queen embraced. They had waited half a lifetime for this & would wait half a lifetime more to come down. The Cupid & Rake-Breath Joe rejoiced. Just to see them again! EVERYONE was on the come-down. Everyone. And the mirror ball twirling & smoking this den mother herring bone atlas was, in a literal sense, all that was left. Philosophically the scene was a bit harder to digest. It was left as is.
In the ultimate gloamin' you could smell a dry sense of humor being cooked & drained of all requisite taste & humility. A force to be reckoned with, for sure. A force to be feared. Fear? No... let's not go there yet. The jam's spread thin & we lie, we lie to save time, money & murder.
The ostrich skin boots were a dead give away. Amelia the Crank didn't have sense enough to leave them behind & Jorge didn't have the balls to tell her to. But, as it is, she never was much of a looker... & in these days, hardened criminal days, "supporting" one's self gets harder & harder with each passing grip. Malcontents don't spend like they used to & their mothers are all lesbian dentists pulling scurvy-filled teeth aboard the Good Ship Prophylactic. The Amazon is filled with such breadth.
Pull the lever & let's find a way home. It's illegal, this, & the Etruscan sun bakes fools without the sense to cover up. Basking in Eternal Afterbirth Glow, Bob the Nob sits abreast our Times. HE is in control now... & in a collective sense & way, we must do as he says or deal with the wrath his pen will lay across. Apples cannot sustain our wealth. It's time to be a Leader. It's time to Lead.
It is & it isn't. It is here & it is not. So much so it isn't. This is where it ends. This is where we get off. All aboard! mister brown jeans. All for none. It is...




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