"GRAVY FOR YOUR BRAIN!" – Conspiracy Theory (1997)
I was at the WALMART, and this dude, in some sort of hypno state, was muttering:
“noodle, noodle,
yankee doodle,
drop that bomb,
on Old Saddam”
It sounded like it, truly he was at ramming speed with his shopping cart and I just got out of his insane way and didn’t take notes.
But folks: it’s getting crazier out there
The dude at WALMART …
He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t sad … he was crazy.
“You paint logs black when you ain’t got no real cannon.” – Dr. Freckles
“The only people who should be allowed to say ‘mark my words’ are villains, in Scooby-Doo episodes.” – Dr. Freckles
A woman of iron and brass …
A woman of knives and glass …
A woman made of tissue and chess …
She might be named Bess.
Not some lukewarm velveteen,
but a woman that shakes her fist at God, with passion.
She’s okay with pizza, but doesn’t want you to hear her fart.
She walks with pride,
a sexy stride,
and if she lies about her former lovers? – she does so to protect your pride.
I need a woman that can outshoot me,
and out love me.
Her body is shaped like some beautiful ocean,
islands and eddies …
Shoreline from the mountains of her busty-ness,
to the hidden valley ranch.
I want the cave-girl vibes,
with a job that pays …
I want to take care of her,
but she doesn’t need it.
She’ll build a cabin, just for us …
We’ll grow crops and harvest the beast …
Our love will run deep.
She won’t sell her juice for yeast.
SHE will be demure,
but with fists to match her passion.
She will be dignified,
with a .357 for any man that tries to TAKE from her.
She will be smart, but not a showoff …
And when she sees pain, she’ll be the healer.
I need a woman who knows the Lord in Heaven rules,
but she’s not afraid to be my whimsical lover.
I want a woman who is NOT afraid to be slutty,
in private,
when the doors are closed.
I need a woman who is NOT afraid to be fierce,
in public, in the wilderness,
where the monster lurk.
I need a woman who will wear jeans and boots,
and stand watch on the tower,
and wear a flower,
for love.
“You can have truth or whiskey or both.” – Dr. Freckles
“Have the Israelis killed all the Martian invaders yet?” – Dr. Freckles
A simple process for douches who want to steal shit:
(rinse and repeat)
“I’ve talked about BOBLIMPTOCK, but not HOBLIMPTOCK.” – Dr. Freckles
The IT software / firewall at work classifies my blog, this blog, as porn …
If it is porn? – it’s a strange porn.
A porn for strangers …
A table set for strangers to feel less alone.
“When people like me stop getting cancelled? – you should probably get worried.” – Dr. Freckles
“The laundromat is like a casino that is more peaceful and less disappointing.” – Dr. Freckles
(bonus: you get to hear the cling-cling-cling of the change machine, and it’s like a slot machine paying out)
“Vagina beer, fermented semen, you see where this is headed?” – Dr. Freckles
“If you can think beyond politics and voting, you have a chance at understanding what’s actually going on; but even then, everyday people will never know for sure.” – Dr. Freckles
In the future …
The “CALIFORNIA DREAMING” video will be seen as naïve bright-siding utopian bullshit.
In the future …
Swamp masters, herding their hooker women, will lurk in the regions EAST of New York City. They will harvest sewage crab and live off of the snail greases and the lost virgin patties. It will be hard, but their names will be THROG and GRYG and TOOLLS … and they will be feared. In the future.
In the future …
The dancing nurses will be found, along with DB COOPER and the cause of the WTC-7 collapse … all found … all verified. Sure, you’ll use these secret papers to keep yourself warm, and you’ll burn the plastic coverings too … as you cower in your cave, on the run from the HIGLIN-CREW and the other droogs hanging near the Ivory Sands of Tyl … and still their hearts will be warn and yellow. In the future.
IN THE FUTURE …
The bullet will be gold and gold will be power. Heinous derby riders, shooting horses for taco meat, will be chased out of Florida and find refuge in the storm drains of Dallas. The underground world, covered in mold and slime, becomes their empire of madness and the LOST ONES are forgotten, as their bones turn to dust. In the future.
Way off in the future …
People will live on MARS … they’ll have fancy cars and martinis at bars … they will ski Olympus Mons, and hangout with ROBOT-ELON-MUSK – carbon unit Musk will be dead by then, died in a TESLA accident. Many will come to his funeral, dressed in steel and suede, wondering and wandering the cemetery, finding only reflections of their own monkey failure … in the future.
“Where a person has no right to speak? – the unconscious rules.” – Dr. Freckles
I have my finger on the pulse of society …
“He’s dead Jim!” – Bones
When the leaves fall,
You can feel the cold rolling in …
When the leaves fall,
You know where she’s been …
***
You kept your heart,
So full of love,
But like some old pair of gloves,
She tossed you out …
YOU WANT TO SCREAM AND SHOUT!
***
When the leaves fall …
The sun disappears.
When the leaves fall …
You spend all day drinking beer …
***
There’s sadness in the air …
You no longer care …
Your soul aches,
Your body shakes,
Your mind breaks.
***
WHEN THE LEAVES FALL …
And there’s no way home again,
When the ground is cold,
you feel really old …
You go out on the land,
To find a friend.
Someone to comfort you,
until that brutal end.
***
When the leaves fall …
There’s noise in the woods …
When the leaves FALL …
It’s always what you “could” …
Could have listened to her scream …
Could’a not been so mean …
Could’a built her a home …
Could’a stopped all the roaming …
When the Leaves fall …
When the leaves fall …
***
That’s all …
“giver her some snickers”
Lennie where ya goin,
Are you tired of the farm?
Did you do someone harm?
Lennie where ya headed?
Are you sick of the land?
Are you sinking in the sand?
Does anyone understand, but George?
***
You were made with fists of iron,
You were built to hold up the sky …
But instead you find poor rodents,
And squeeze them … until they die …
Come on Lennie …
What’s this struggle for?
And Lennie sighs …
And say’s “no more” …
***
Lennie … what’s wrong … with this song?
Lennie, are you stuck in the throng?
Lennie, will you clean up that shack?
Lennie, will George give you your money back?
You wander strongly,
behind your good friend George,
he keeps you going,
but there’s something about him …
Something about him …
Something about George …
And Lennie has no clue.
***
Lennie are you tired?
Did you spend time alone?
Did you get mired,
in rancher’s desire,
when all that you want,
is a place with a warm fire?
Don’t be sad Lennie,
you can makes shoes from a tire.
***
Lennie are you angry?
Did you spend time in the barn,
Did you say “oh darn”?
You need to stay away from Curley’s wife,
Don’t make George take your life,
This world is filled with liquor and strife,
***
Lennie … are you okay?
Lennie … what’d ya do today?
Lennie, did Curley’s wife go away?
Lennie, there’s not much to say …
“Hey George, tell me again about the rabbits …”
Gun shot rings out …
Not time to pout …
It’s all done …
Lennie is on the other side,
where all is ONE …
Hey George, go clean that gun …
(then go get drunk and have some hookers)
There is no anti-war party in this country …
Not because it couldn’t exist, but because it WILL NOT be allowed …
Libertarians? – give me a break … they are tripping over each other to endorse one side or another in this Israel/Hamas human disaster …
Peace? – no one is buying.
We should make war 100% voluntary – you want to fight? – GO FUCKING FIGHT!
You want to fund these calamities? – fucking do it.