“IDGAF and feeling sorry for yourself are NOT the same thing, but they often share the same apartment.” – Dr. Freckles
If I were okay …
“If I were okay I wouldn’t be here.” – Dr. Freckles
Social media …
“Hermits like social media because it’s like micro-dosing human interaction; also why we hate it.” – Dr. Freckles
YURGEN TIME: THE MOON MUST BE DESTROYED!
“ALL HAIL THE YURGEN TIME!”, said Torwald the Bludgeoner …
He’d carry his bats and chain and inject himself with human growth hormone just to find a way to EXCITEMENT and NEW STYLE condo living. His parents were lost ones, and his wife left him for the turtle wax master. They said YURGEN TIME would end when the Sky Hawk Shaman declared BOBLIMPTOCK OVER …
“But it’s never over”, decried the mistress Dorsella. She spared no expense covering up her body with pasty green dresses and high heel shoes. Dark red lipstick and cursed eye gleams …
SKEEVIS KINGS hide from the yellow light and build onyx chapels for the coming of STAARN …
“STAARN the MASTER FORGER! STAARN the OBLIVIOUS! STAARN the SCARRED CAPTAIN … we know him”, muttered Dorsella, invoking “STAARN” as a curse upon the land, as a song to the wild sea, as an ode to lost cowboys and arrant knights looking for EASY HOOKUPS. The women folk were gathering fruits and nuts and oils for the celebration; the easy-going hustlers were setting up their tables for 3 card monte.
“When STAARN comes, the seas will turn to gravel and the mountains will melt away like gravy”, HEEBUS, Dorsella’s ex-boyfriend, pondered this undoing – this new age of chilled spirits and hot nights with greasy women.
It was foreboding, the shape of the clouds …
It was an omen, the noise of the crow.
It was near, the fire, the reshaping, the rebuilding of gangster worlds and pirate realms and the outlasting sense of flower and spice.
Torwald had returned from the SCOBE-WARS and was sitting with Dorsella and Heebus and a few others at the Rooksom Public House. He had a leather jacket with patches from around the world – if the world is defined in terms of Sturgis, SD. He kept an eye on his Harley parked outside, and another eye on Dorsella’s cleavage … and with his THIRD EYE, Torwald was digging deep into Heebus’ mind, soul space, tunneling deep into the hidden parts of Torwald’s brain.
Heebus groaned as the mountain tops began to sing.
Heebus had hidden, deep within the mind-space, stories and paths and means to great gold, adventure and diamonds. Heebus would defeat STAARN with LASER WINGS and common pizza herding.
Heebus spoke: “The moon is the guevous-cream in our monkey-steam … it’s a slab of hooker crabs, it’s the dent in our celestial rent … it must be destroyed …”
THE MOON MUST BE BURNED TO THE GROUND! – this was the zeitgeist.
Heebus and Dorsella and Torwald knew the MOON was to blame for ALL OF IT …
The MOON is the DIRK-NIGGLIN and CAPER MONK.
The MOON is a wine darling and a street alley minstrel.
The MOON spreads disease, crabs and STARBUCKS.
In YURGEN TIME, the clone denizens wander aimlessly and the wizards of Cleveland spin their jenny, looking deep into the highway garbage and the lost tire squirrels.
In YURGEN TIME, the OOG-MINES are laid across the bridge to reunion and redemption. No one is considered without fault, no one is clean. The swamp killers drive the streets, in firetrucks … they take the hoses and spray the hobos as they drive by, leaving them cold and shivering in the streets.
“I live in a camper … I am friends with the raccoon and the hawk … I am friends with the wolf and the owl … I GROWL at the MOON, cuz real soon … We gonna TAKE THAT MOON DOWN … The MOON must GO, or we can’t grow”, Dorsella said, as RED the FIRE-STURGEN burped and cried and vomited his ale.
Yurgen-wine is what Dorsella knows …
Dorsella spoke:
“There were 9 threegous wars, before the time of undoing. There were 12 elven kings, upon the arrival of TOR the MASCOT STEALER. And if we can forget, would we not FORGET the UPHEAVAL of DEB – when her lesbian forces stormed the island chain of Nubilinia?”
Her words resonated with Torwald.
Torwald remembered these times …
THE AGE OF HAGEN-TOOK.
Hagen-took, the FORG-MASTER, rode horse and shot canon and built trebuchet made out of steel and stone. he hunted the meercat and fed upon the loins of dwarves. His army wore codpieces made of codpieces, and his own codpiece was made of silver codpieces. And none were worse.
TORWALD WAS MAD!
He had loved Dorsella, and her heaving bosom. He inglomoolated her boovula multiple times, and left spizz oil as residue of passion.
His essence covered her like the golden shower of a hundred musk-maidens, and it was unto the rabbit lord that she was to be given – but Torwald would not have it.
“But the MOON MUST BE DESTROYED!” screamed Heebus …
And this too was agreed upon, it was merely the means by which the Moon will be destroyed that was up for debate.
It might involved building a 500 gigaton nuclear device using cobalt derived radiological materials and some type of crystalline tritium encasement.
We might have to build a super laser, powered by nog-sauce from the hooker sector. We’ll have this laser “manned” by prostitutes and strippers wearing nothing. And their own juices will power the laser … so even if that doesn’t work … cuz it’s as plausible as the MATRIX plot … you still have strippers and hookers. This made Heebus smile.
“THERE IS NO PEACE AS LONG AS THE MOON SHINES!”
At this the crew laughed …
They knew their task was “impossible”, but they also knew they had the GRIT and KNOWHOW to try … and try well.
Sure – the monks of GASTIA would try to stop them. Their sacred oath is to the VATICAN and Shirley Temple’s ghost …
Yeah – the BUSTY NUNS of DOOG TOWN will use their powers to persuade them to halt their journey and join the nuns, nakedly, in the sacred oil pools. They will say NO … surely … but nonetheless, they must gird their loins.
… and I sing their song …
… and I dream of destroying the MOON …
Every time some shit head says “you can’t destroy the Moon”, I will point ironically, and yet cryptically, at a portrait the lunar lander, on the Moon, I bought from NASA’s website.
They won’t know what I mean.
A few hundred megatons of nukes in the right spot, exploded on the dark side of the Moon, would send the Moon into a slowly degrading orbit, and in a matter of MONTHS … the Moon would be destroyed.
(along with the Earth)
The MOON is a death STAR …
The MOON is a death STAR …
The MOON is a death STAR …
I should run for president in 2024.
“Dan, what’s your platform?”
“MY PLATFORM? … fuck … fuck you.”
“Come on Dan, tell us what you will do as President?”
“I WILL DESTROY THE MOON!”
“Okay … strong position.”
The cost of destroying the Moon?
(pennies a day)
Next big thing …
I’m getting really interested in unicycles …
I have this feeling that the next BIG INVASION or ATTACK is going to come from strippers riding unicycles, naked … carrying glocks.
“STRIPPERS on CRACK on UNICYCLES!”
(call me Tarantino …)
(script writes itself in one weekend)
BTW: “The History of Successful Airborne Operations” is not a long read.
I’ve invented a super soldier …
– crack whore, former dancing nurse/BLM street organizer/drag queen story time host
– wearing armor made from US passport material
– masked up
– wielding a machine gun that fires box cutters
– riding a unicycle
– connected to a paraglider
– and she’s naked, with only a strap on
It’s like “men on the Moon” …
None of the ships that landed “men on the MOON” ever seemed like they could plausibly work.
But like “paragliders from Palestine”, the populace is mystified, stunned, staring gormlessly at their CNN or FOX NEWS, deluded and confused.
So “men on the MOON” works, and that’s okay.
HOLY FUCK …
a) load up a lunar lander with naked crack whore strippers, the armor on the lander is made of US passport material
b) once the lander LANDS, the hookers take off in paragliders, the hookers have a box-cutter firing swivel gun
c) near the ground, the hookers disengage from the glider and start riding unicycles
d) near the target, the unicycle converts into a pogostick dildo combo, and the hooker ride it using their boovula
e) the hookers are former BLM-DRAG-QUEEN-PUTIN-STORY-TIME-NURSES, that dance
f) everyone is stunned
g) no one could have seen this coming
Okay …
Run with this:
“ARMY OF DEAD BUT CYBERNETICALLY ENHANCED CATS”
(with rocket launchers)
(so “laser cats” doesn’t sue us)
Even more shocking than paragliders or unicycle hooker soldiers …
Dancing nurse …
“The ‘paraglider’ is this year’s ‘dancing nurse’, the ‘ghost of Kiev’ was last year’s.” – Dr. Freckles
Slow burn …
“Many non-linear processes can appear linear … until they’re not.” – Dr. Freckles
A cigarette …
“A cigarette is a reason to wake up in the morning, a GREAT reason.” – Dr. Freckles
Thug armies in the woods …
Did you know that radical hikers and granola types are forming thug armies in the Olympic National Forest?
I know this …
These are things they DON’T report in the news.
People are going up, into the forest, to live.
Boondockers are scattering to the 8 winds.
Everyone is lying …
“If you get the feeling that everyone is lying? To include you? – you might be close to the truth.” – Dr. Freckles