Category: Planetary Status Reports

I take a pill once daily …

It’s red and green and blue and mean.

I take a pill and it cleans out my stomach lining and burns away my herpes.

I take a pill for my low blood sugar, and one for my high blood sugar, and one for my cock and one to kill all the crabs in my jock.

I take this pill for my hernia …

My insides are GREEK and CURLY and my girlfriend left me for the guy that cleans roaches out of the septic tank.

I take a pill for my kidneys … my urine is red and black and filled with GAS NODULES and cocaine dream tarts. Hookers know, man.

I get this injection from the CHARLIE ROBERTS BRIGADE to crystallize my skin and turn my blood into boiling oil.

The injection widens my gaze and provides a green pasture style love-making experience to those of us from WESTERN TOOB-TOWN.

It cures my shakes and sadness, envy.

They gave me this “special sauce”.

I was tricked into having four delphi-tubes inserted into my rectum, while I was driving my Ferrari to RENO and doing coke off the butt of my stripper girlfriend, “Sanctity”.

We were 8 miles from Gypsum Town, when the SALT TRORG FIGHTERS began chasing us.

The doctors kept cutting into me …

They removed my heart and liver …

They extracted 20 miles of veins and arteries …

They replaced what was THERE with sawdust and broken glass and metal shavings and diesel fuel and tired remembering …

Remembering the stolen bone cart.

After they broke my legs and severed my thorax, I had a whole bunch of digestive issues and lactose intolerance.

They shoved asbestos stew down my gullet and watched as I ate all my cricket flour sundae …

They took turns ANGRILY tightening the cables on my spinal implants.

They got scared …

So the surgical team brought in DOC CHAINSAW and his TIGHT JEANS CREW of sexy nurses with untreated genital herpes.

They began massaging my glimptic-zone and relieving my main squirt pipe of pressure using an air lance.

After 5 hours, they stopped, chuckled.

I spent MONTHS doing physical therapy at the CASTRO GYM where the old FIRE GENTS would run sad-wax on their junk and murmur in the darkness.

They would scrape the TIG-MOLD off of the showers where the FROG-JUMPERS would swap gelatin. That stuff would sever connections between the different lobes of the brain and allow the THIRD EYE to glow in the veil as the MOGH-DEMONS roam the world.

STAG-FORGERS gather the salt-copper from the operating room floor, after the surgeons get done mopping up the viscera and clearing the blood flue …

I ate stolen blanche sandwiches and the sorbet of marrow.

KEVIN left me at the emergency room after the 4th overdose from Fentanyl …

I would switch to KROKODIL, but my heart muscle is weak and the bite marks on my spleen have not healed.

I skipped out on my last doctor’s appointment …

They wanted to check my pulse and verify my temperatures …

They spent time poking me with a iron rod attached to a car battery, they kept laughing and mocking me as I shook and twisted …

I lay broken upon the table, and the healthcare team NEVER let up …

They took gravel and pounded it into my wounds …

They took gasoline and put it in an IV bag and shoved that damn thing into my vein.

I turned blue and sought the hard LIFE on the outside, as I slit their throats and escaped through the laundry chute.

… all because I took a pill …

… all because I’m tired of feeling sick …

1. TAGLON AREA MORMONS are joining the TIME-AMISH … Amish worshipers that have begun to build old-timey steam punk time machines from abandoned work horses and old color TV sets …
2. ZEEB the TURB-WARDEN, was responsible for the 23 gangs of S’compton. He led ruthlessly, as a tired people wished for their own WRATH.
3. Maybe I hit the streets and end up in some ZIBBITY DOO DAH ZIBBITY DAY … kind of crap universe or dimension … maybe it will be like that indie Horror film “Yellow Brick Road” … and I’ll find some ancient passage to a busty kingdom of wench-maidens who inguzzlelate themselves in jell baths for 3 hours a day … it’s on cable TV.
4. YORGEN SKEEBS have a chance, if given a chance.
5. Durla is hoping for a late night lover.
6. The sinking of the Gerry McDorbo is a mystery, in Chicago …
7. THE DOOM PISTOL became the LORD GAMMA CHARGE and all flood-filth will coexist with girdle fish …

AND WHAT OF NOISE?

– the ultimate encryption is noise

– the ultimate decentralization is noise

– the ground state of all information is noise

– twitter is noise

– the sounds you make when you make love is noise

– the roar of a cold-launch ICBM or SLBM is noise

We are NOISE DRAGONS and BEAMS.

We are LOVE DANGER and SEX OIL DREAMS …

We are the gold that is traded for parrot schemes …

We are the monkey priest seeking after virgins in Grinken Town.

We are alive.

We can find joy.

BUT THE DOOM QUADRANT is near and the various controls are in place.

This is the fuel-steak that savors …

This is the gasoline princess …

This is ZONE-QUADRANT-REGION-DOOM …

AND WE ARE FREE!

It’s already starting …

HOOTON GARRISON FORCES are fanning out across the city … they are looking for slab-oil and harlot sauce and gundry-poon.

They don’t care about your SAFETY … they will steal your catalytic converter and rip out your heart …

Desperate eyes now.

The cable guy isn’t who you think he is …

He comes to your home and sniff’s your wife’s underwear and other products …

He’s thinking of taking over after you’re gone, and being the new dad. He fantasizes about taking you OUT.

He’s coming for you pal, ain’t no stopping it.

Do you know where your mom goes at night?

She’s on the STREET, turning it UP, making an IMPRESSION. All the TOPE STREET GIRLIES watch her patch skirt and wait for the howl muskies.

Sure, you don’t know, but you do know and you don’t care.

Your mom is a ROAD GAL and juicier.