Day: April 5, 2023

He was slag-type, when the CHUD ruled Seattle, and the gaslight-park whores stole Cheetos and sold them to the DRINGUS-HORDE. His mind was sharp with metallic self, and the reed punishments were simply coarse lessons and scarred memories. T’lib, his water-wife, gathered pisket-lilies near the shore – as cattle troops fed on sea grass, and the crab sharks patrolled the harbor.

AS CHIEF MONK SKUNK he oversaw the husbandry and sleave-burning. He ran an herb shop off of Grinken AVE, where MORLOCK had their tea party discussions about golfing and that new IPA someone is drinking because their wife fucked the artisanal cheese guy.

In the time of HECTOR the LOUD, H’leave would be found fishing near the GREAT SEA, not far from S’compton. His own guilt drove him deep into the ocean, far from shore, so many wave riders lost and he feared his own fate, rushing towards him, like an Orca whale out for a snack.

Scandal ridden, the coastal folk were no longer picking up stragglers and freaks from the wasteland or the surf. All those lost to the sea are LOST, this was the chant of those beachcombers looking for talking seashells. Sure, H’leave did not need some random do-good’er to help him, he was a BIG MAN and would stand tall and it didn’t matter that he was lost, miles from home, adrift on the GREAT SEA and heading towards his fate …

After 345 days at sea, H’leave made landfall not far from the OLD HUBERT MONASTERY, where the TREE MONKS held their vigils, and watched over the DUST KING of Sid.

“Why do you come here?”, asked MONK GRAAL.

“I seek the swill, the drape-sauce … I want to drink and get drunk off of old fashioned vodka tonics, the ones my hooker wife would make, on a hot SATURDAY NIGHT. I’m looking for my salvation in the dark layer, beneath the light. That’s why I’m here fucker …”

MONK GRAAL let this mendicant go, and H’leave dug ditches in penance …

H’leave followed the pilgrim trail that led up the STONE MOUNTAINS to the Eerie Pass, not far from where those Special Forces guys killed those Salvadoran nuns …

H’leave was ready to face the volcano demon and to integrate his soul-spice into the ribbon-membrane of oneness. He was courageous raccoon hunter and he had the loom-flesh cured for the journey. A honey pepper and one lost meadow dove, all mashed up into a weird red paste that is then succulated onto the scruvous. Skindo ream people would normally use mayonnaise or some kind of horse radish dip, but few could fend long pretend the hestor-gods aren’t looking, judging, all the flavors.

After 12 days of travel, H’leave found his destiny-partner. She was covered in muskrat scent, and her eyes were yellow and green. She was the ancient cave wench foretold by all the demon lords, she was the skelt-minx who’s clammy skin would entrance you and pull you into lusty cave-style sideways sally love making …

When the spring came, SHE was with child …

When the winter came, SHE abandoned H’leave, and she left the baby with him …

And this is the path of destiny …

The lost hooker franchise.

[curated: 4/5/2023]