Garrison Kelly's Blog, page 8
December 3, 2023
Necro Power Plant
Ever wonder how those malls play holiday music?
Keep your internet connection and never lose it?
Keep the lights on in your depressing man cave?
Keep the water warm so you can shower and shave?
You can give your thanks to the utility wizards
Necromancy keeps you warm during blizzards
Now that your eyes popped out of your sockets
We run on dead bodies, it’s how we line our pockets
Feed the giant slab of rotten gray beef jerky
Through the dynamo of swamp water so murky
Boil them corpses like a pot of spaghetti
Let the green steam get the juicy juices ready
What’s the matter, kid? You think this is wrong?
Grab the hippie-dippie guitar, write a protest song
It’s not like we killed the dead bodies ourselves
Who cares when their souls are stuck in hell?
Exploiting dead people is a great business model
When politicians do it, the press is sucking milk bottles
When Vince McMahon does it, it’s a sure ratings draw
Whether the corpse has hands or puppy-duppy paws
It’s all in bad taste, but it ain’t nuclear waste
We’ve got no souls, but at least it ain’t coal
Call us super villains, we don’t give a goddamn
They’re your lights, bro, you’ve got the wrong man
What do you mean we’ve failed the safety inspections?
What do you mean the civil court is now in session?
What do you mean we’ve got to pay a billion dollars?
What do you mean we’ve got debt collecting callers?
What do you mean we’re going right out of business?
What do you mean the plaintiffs got their own star witness?
What do you mean we got to put on these orange onesies?
What do you mean our cellmates are extra snuggly?
Keep your internet connection and never lose it?
Keep the lights on in your depressing man cave?
Keep the water warm so you can shower and shave?
You can give your thanks to the utility wizards
Necromancy keeps you warm during blizzards
Now that your eyes popped out of your sockets
We run on dead bodies, it’s how we line our pockets
Feed the giant slab of rotten gray beef jerky
Through the dynamo of swamp water so murky
Boil them corpses like a pot of spaghetti
Let the green steam get the juicy juices ready
What’s the matter, kid? You think this is wrong?
Grab the hippie-dippie guitar, write a protest song
It’s not like we killed the dead bodies ourselves
Who cares when their souls are stuck in hell?
Exploiting dead people is a great business model
When politicians do it, the press is sucking milk bottles
When Vince McMahon does it, it’s a sure ratings draw
Whether the corpse has hands or puppy-duppy paws
It’s all in bad taste, but it ain’t nuclear waste
We’ve got no souls, but at least it ain’t coal
Call us super villains, we don’t give a goddamn
They’re your lights, bro, you’ve got the wrong man
What do you mean we’ve failed the safety inspections?
What do you mean the civil court is now in session?
What do you mean we’ve got to pay a billion dollars?
What do you mean we’ve got debt collecting callers?
What do you mean we’re going right out of business?
What do you mean the plaintiffs got their own star witness?
What do you mean we got to put on these orange onesies?
What do you mean our cellmates are extra snuggly?
December 2, 2023
Rainbow Ranch, Chapter 3
Even though Lucy’s metal armor provided most of her warmth, the chilly air of the mountainside nipped at her skin like a predatory case of fleas, each with meat grinder teeth. She hugged herself for extra heat, but the incoming snowflakes made her shiver nonetheless. In such a short amount of time, one snowflake on her canine nose turned into an entire winter of defeat and agony. Without her war hammer and tennis ball, she might as well have been the most naked being in the entirety of Rainbow Ranch. How was she supposed to fight Loki the Skull now? Barking and clawing could only do so much against a sorcerer who flashed in and out of combat as he pleased. Lucy became jealous of Callie the Wildfire for having any kind of weapon at all, the golden knife in question.
“Get a move on, Lucy! Ozzie is vulnerable out here!” roared Callie. Toughness would have been an admirable trait during these times, but all it did was make Lucy’s eyes water, which in turn hardened into icicles that shattered on the ground. It was completely normal coming from Razor Ripley, but Callie was a stranger who appeared unsympathetic to Lucy’s struggles. Then again, Callie had little to worry about wrapped up in the warmest orange fabric. Why burden herself with an annoying Chiweenie’s suffering?
The mountainside trek weakened Lucy’s legs to where they were trembling with or without a freezing temperature. She was used to scampering up to any challenge, but such athletics were punished with a painful gut and sour breathing. There were many times when Lucy wanted to just plop over and allow whatever was going to happen to happen. No weapon, no bravery, and no help beyond someone who couldn’t stand her to begin with. This was a losing battle against an opponent with seemingly endless magical energy. Lucy’s head swirled with dizziness and hopelessness. Why not just lay down and prove her abandoners right?
“We’re here! And no sign of Loki!” Callie’s grumpy demeanor was masked with a tiny smile, but only for a little while. “Come on, Lucy, let’s move it!” She grabbed the Chiweenie’s trembling paw and dragged her up the mountain, where a comforting orange light shone from a lone cave entrance, flanked by two scarecrows with rotten pumpkin heads. “His place must be a pigsty. I knew he was out of his gourd.”
Lucy and Callie scampered past the scarecrows and into the brightly lit cave. Sure enough, this was the home of Ozzie the Wise, whose days of wisdom and intense thought had long abandoned him. Sitting at the table next to a glowing metal stove (the source of the gentle light), the elderly gray and white cat man tenderly ate cold turkey scraps from a plate that had seen better days. Nibble, nibble, nibble, gulp, gulp, gulp, all with teeth that smelled worse than the pumpkins outside.
The messiness of this home could give his dental work a run for its money. Torn blankets strewn every which way. A record player that hadn’t been dusted since the days of his youth. A sink full of dirty dishes that would have attracted flies if not for the freezing weather. A bookcase of cracked yellow paper, probably with spells written on them that couldn’t be studied with a forgetful brain. There was even a golden framed picture of Callie and Ozzie as a couple hanging on the wall, albeit at an awkward angle.
Ozzie peeked up from his dubious dinner and smiled at Lucy and Callie. “You look familiar.”
“Gee, I wonder why that could be,” said Callie with a sharp tongue. “See that picture on the wall? Any clues coming yet?”
“Yes…yes…it’s all coming back to me now…” Ozzie stood up and cracked his spine over the back of his chair, causing Lucy to twitch in disgust and Callie to reprimand her for it. The old man cat trudged over to his two guests with Callie looking hopeful that she might be recognized after all of these years. But instead, Ozzie ruffled Lucy’s ears and said, “My granddaughter! My precious little granddaughter.” Lucy looked confused at first, but then chuckled as Ozzie groomed her face over and over again.
“For Pete’s sake, Ozzie, it’s me! Callie! Your ex-wife!” protested Callie. Ozzie continued licking Lucy’s cackling face while running his claws through her fur. The tough facade had melted away when Callie sighed and tucked her head in defeat. “He’s forgotten me…Ozzie has forgotten me…”
“Oh no, I haven’t,” said Ozzie. “My other granddaughter! You’ve come to visit me after all these years! Come here, you!” He gave Callie tummy scratches, which earned him a swat for his troubles.
“I’m not your granddaughter, you old coot! I’m your wife! We shared a house together! We chased balls of yarn together! You used to cook tuna fish every night and it was delicious! Don’t you remember?” Callie’s elderly anger turned to sorrowful word salad as her voice became increasingly jittery.
Ozzie placed a tender paw on Callie’s shivering shoulder and said, “Now, now, now…you know I can’t marry my granddaughter. But I’ll be there at your wedding when you’re old enough.”
Callie held her face in her paw and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “There’s no hope. He’s gone. He’s all gone.”
Now that she’d established some rapport with Ozzie, Lucy suddenly found her confidence again, which was definitely helped by the warm breeze blowing on her from the metal stove. “Mr. Ozzie, I’d love to stay and eat turkey with you, but there’s something we have to warn you about. There’s an evil sorcerer coming up this mountain and he says he wants to hurt you. He’s too powerful for any of us to fight off. The best thing we can do is get you out of here and to a safe place.”
“A sorcerer, you say?”
“Yes, Mr. Ozzie. He’s someone you used to know, I mean, once knew…” Lucy let out a phew at almost appearing insensitive towards Ozzie’s forgetfulness. “He’s an old rival of yours. You were the one who defeated him in the first place. Now he wants revenge. He’s come back to life in a dog’s body and he wants to…”
“Old rival? Hmm…” Ozzie scratched his own chin looking for answers. “Is he another one of my grandchildren? I’d love to play some fetch with him and tell him all about my record collection. These young whippersnappers could use some good music these days.”
“He’s gone, Lucy,” said Callie in an uncharacteristically low voice. “He doesn’t remember me or anyone else. All that magic use turned his brain into mush. He’d be better off in retirement care instead of this disheveled cave.”
“Wait a minute…” pondered Lucy. “If magic use can turn your brain into mush, then Loki the Skull…”
“You just now figured that out?” The fire and spunk was back in Callie’s voice, her knife raised in the air, much to Lucy’s cowering terror.
“Put the knife away, you old bat. I’ll finish the job for you.”
Lucy, Callie, and Ozzie’s eyes widened at the demonic voice haunting the once warm and cozy cave. The stove’s glow was slowly dying down and the only neon flash that appeared this time came from Loki the Skull’s eyes. Bright red horror enveloped the room, followed by the poisonous green of the sorcerer’s aura. Lucy gulped as hard as she could while hugging Callie for comfort. She tried to push her off, but Lucy was too strong and it was the only strength she would exhibit for a while.
But then, Loki waved the war hammer like a pendulum and taunted Lucy. “Looking for this? It’s the perfect tool for smashing, let’s say…tennis balls!” He then pulled out said tennis ball, this time deflated and dirty, no longer fit for an hour of friendly roughhousing.
“What are you going to do, Lucy? Are you going to snuggle up and cry like a little cherub? Are you going to howl to the night moon like a lost wolf puppy? Are you going to run back into your mommy’s arms? Oh wait…that last part isn’t an option anymore.” Loki laughed at his own callous joke.
“Get a move on, Lucy! Ozzie is vulnerable out here!” roared Callie. Toughness would have been an admirable trait during these times, but all it did was make Lucy’s eyes water, which in turn hardened into icicles that shattered on the ground. It was completely normal coming from Razor Ripley, but Callie was a stranger who appeared unsympathetic to Lucy’s struggles. Then again, Callie had little to worry about wrapped up in the warmest orange fabric. Why burden herself with an annoying Chiweenie’s suffering?
The mountainside trek weakened Lucy’s legs to where they were trembling with or without a freezing temperature. She was used to scampering up to any challenge, but such athletics were punished with a painful gut and sour breathing. There were many times when Lucy wanted to just plop over and allow whatever was going to happen to happen. No weapon, no bravery, and no help beyond someone who couldn’t stand her to begin with. This was a losing battle against an opponent with seemingly endless magical energy. Lucy’s head swirled with dizziness and hopelessness. Why not just lay down and prove her abandoners right?
“We’re here! And no sign of Loki!” Callie’s grumpy demeanor was masked with a tiny smile, but only for a little while. “Come on, Lucy, let’s move it!” She grabbed the Chiweenie’s trembling paw and dragged her up the mountain, where a comforting orange light shone from a lone cave entrance, flanked by two scarecrows with rotten pumpkin heads. “His place must be a pigsty. I knew he was out of his gourd.”
Lucy and Callie scampered past the scarecrows and into the brightly lit cave. Sure enough, this was the home of Ozzie the Wise, whose days of wisdom and intense thought had long abandoned him. Sitting at the table next to a glowing metal stove (the source of the gentle light), the elderly gray and white cat man tenderly ate cold turkey scraps from a plate that had seen better days. Nibble, nibble, nibble, gulp, gulp, gulp, all with teeth that smelled worse than the pumpkins outside.
The messiness of this home could give his dental work a run for its money. Torn blankets strewn every which way. A record player that hadn’t been dusted since the days of his youth. A sink full of dirty dishes that would have attracted flies if not for the freezing weather. A bookcase of cracked yellow paper, probably with spells written on them that couldn’t be studied with a forgetful brain. There was even a golden framed picture of Callie and Ozzie as a couple hanging on the wall, albeit at an awkward angle.
Ozzie peeked up from his dubious dinner and smiled at Lucy and Callie. “You look familiar.”
“Gee, I wonder why that could be,” said Callie with a sharp tongue. “See that picture on the wall? Any clues coming yet?”
“Yes…yes…it’s all coming back to me now…” Ozzie stood up and cracked his spine over the back of his chair, causing Lucy to twitch in disgust and Callie to reprimand her for it. The old man cat trudged over to his two guests with Callie looking hopeful that she might be recognized after all of these years. But instead, Ozzie ruffled Lucy’s ears and said, “My granddaughter! My precious little granddaughter.” Lucy looked confused at first, but then chuckled as Ozzie groomed her face over and over again.
“For Pete’s sake, Ozzie, it’s me! Callie! Your ex-wife!” protested Callie. Ozzie continued licking Lucy’s cackling face while running his claws through her fur. The tough facade had melted away when Callie sighed and tucked her head in defeat. “He’s forgotten me…Ozzie has forgotten me…”
“Oh no, I haven’t,” said Ozzie. “My other granddaughter! You’ve come to visit me after all these years! Come here, you!” He gave Callie tummy scratches, which earned him a swat for his troubles.
“I’m not your granddaughter, you old coot! I’m your wife! We shared a house together! We chased balls of yarn together! You used to cook tuna fish every night and it was delicious! Don’t you remember?” Callie’s elderly anger turned to sorrowful word salad as her voice became increasingly jittery.
Ozzie placed a tender paw on Callie’s shivering shoulder and said, “Now, now, now…you know I can’t marry my granddaughter. But I’ll be there at your wedding when you’re old enough.”
Callie held her face in her paw and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “There’s no hope. He’s gone. He’s all gone.”
Now that she’d established some rapport with Ozzie, Lucy suddenly found her confidence again, which was definitely helped by the warm breeze blowing on her from the metal stove. “Mr. Ozzie, I’d love to stay and eat turkey with you, but there’s something we have to warn you about. There’s an evil sorcerer coming up this mountain and he says he wants to hurt you. He’s too powerful for any of us to fight off. The best thing we can do is get you out of here and to a safe place.”
“A sorcerer, you say?”
“Yes, Mr. Ozzie. He’s someone you used to know, I mean, once knew…” Lucy let out a phew at almost appearing insensitive towards Ozzie’s forgetfulness. “He’s an old rival of yours. You were the one who defeated him in the first place. Now he wants revenge. He’s come back to life in a dog’s body and he wants to…”
“Old rival? Hmm…” Ozzie scratched his own chin looking for answers. “Is he another one of my grandchildren? I’d love to play some fetch with him and tell him all about my record collection. These young whippersnappers could use some good music these days.”
“He’s gone, Lucy,” said Callie in an uncharacteristically low voice. “He doesn’t remember me or anyone else. All that magic use turned his brain into mush. He’d be better off in retirement care instead of this disheveled cave.”
“Wait a minute…” pondered Lucy. “If magic use can turn your brain into mush, then Loki the Skull…”
“You just now figured that out?” The fire and spunk was back in Callie’s voice, her knife raised in the air, much to Lucy’s cowering terror.
“Put the knife away, you old bat. I’ll finish the job for you.”
Lucy, Callie, and Ozzie’s eyes widened at the demonic voice haunting the once warm and cozy cave. The stove’s glow was slowly dying down and the only neon flash that appeared this time came from Loki the Skull’s eyes. Bright red horror enveloped the room, followed by the poisonous green of the sorcerer’s aura. Lucy gulped as hard as she could while hugging Callie for comfort. She tried to push her off, but Lucy was too strong and it was the only strength she would exhibit for a while.
But then, Loki waved the war hammer like a pendulum and taunted Lucy. “Looking for this? It’s the perfect tool for smashing, let’s say…tennis balls!” He then pulled out said tennis ball, this time deflated and dirty, no longer fit for an hour of friendly roughhousing.
“What are you going to do, Lucy? Are you going to snuggle up and cry like a little cherub? Are you going to howl to the night moon like a lost wolf puppy? Are you going to run back into your mommy’s arms? Oh wait…that last part isn’t an option anymore.” Loki laughed at his own callous joke.
A Little Bit
VERSE 1
A little bit annoying, a little bit weird
A little bit chunky, a little bit feared
A little introspective, a little out in space
A little bit friendly, yet you spit in my face
VERSE 2
A little bit tired, a little bit lazy
A little bit foggy, a little bit hazy
A little bit angry, a little bit sad
A little bit depressed, lock me up with the mad
BRIDGE
You took an innocent little boy who did no wrong
Called him every name in the book so he could be strong
But that shit doesn’t work, you disgusting jerk
The gentle young man now goes berserk
VERSE 3
A little unpacking, a little therapy
A little dark magic, a little heresy
A little bit of fun, a little bit of joy
Welcome demon man, goodbye little boy
A little black humor, a little bit of spice
A little bit of fire, a little bit of ice
A little bit hard rock, a little heavy metal
A little bit numbed out, no choice but to settle
FINAL LINES
Goodbye baby boy
Goodbye rattle toy
Hello burned out man
Break the cycle if you can
Put it off ‘til tomorrow
One more day of sorrow
Put it off another week
Keep the future bleak
A little bit annoying, a little bit weird
A little bit chunky, a little bit feared
A little introspective, a little out in space
A little bit friendly, yet you spit in my face
VERSE 2
A little bit tired, a little bit lazy
A little bit foggy, a little bit hazy
A little bit angry, a little bit sad
A little bit depressed, lock me up with the mad
BRIDGE
You took an innocent little boy who did no wrong
Called him every name in the book so he could be strong
But that shit doesn’t work, you disgusting jerk
The gentle young man now goes berserk
VERSE 3
A little unpacking, a little therapy
A little dark magic, a little heresy
A little bit of fun, a little bit of joy
Welcome demon man, goodbye little boy
A little black humor, a little bit of spice
A little bit of fire, a little bit of ice
A little bit hard rock, a little heavy metal
A little bit numbed out, no choice but to settle
FINAL LINES
Goodbye baby boy
Goodbye rattle toy
Hello burned out man
Break the cycle if you can
Put it off ‘til tomorrow
One more day of sorrow
Put it off another week
Keep the future bleak
November 20, 2023
A Love Letter to Advil
As a loud and proud member of Generation Y
I’ve got pain in my back and tears in my eyes
There’s a war going on in the base of my spine
Flamethrower marines screaming, “Your ass is mine!”
Battle axe barbarians chopping down the tree
Razor claw demons going on a killing spree
Can’t wait for the bone-cracker to fix me up
I need instant healing before I fucking erupt
They call it Advil, I call it magic in tablets
For when I can’t move without yelling, “Damn it!”
A bottle of water cold enough to freeze hell
Swallow the pills and the pain takes the L
Why go cold turkey when it feels so good?
It’s not like I’m floating through the neighborhood
It’s not like I’m a space cadet calling Major Tom
Or drunkenly fucking on Porn Hub dot com
Doesn’t have the same energy as cooking crack
Booger sugar wouldn’t do shit for my back
Don’t have a meth lab on the bottom floor
Not making poison pills out of a nuclear core
The magic medicine works, I’m off to bed
Maybe one day it’ll unfuck my head
I wrote a love letter to Advil liquid gels
More like a commercial with intent to sell
A drug deal without the DEA
Just a fucking parade from the FDA
I’ve got pain in my back and tears in my eyes
There’s a war going on in the base of my spine
Flamethrower marines screaming, “Your ass is mine!”
Battle axe barbarians chopping down the tree
Razor claw demons going on a killing spree
Can’t wait for the bone-cracker to fix me up
I need instant healing before I fucking erupt
They call it Advil, I call it magic in tablets
For when I can’t move without yelling, “Damn it!”
A bottle of water cold enough to freeze hell
Swallow the pills and the pain takes the L
Why go cold turkey when it feels so good?
It’s not like I’m floating through the neighborhood
It’s not like I’m a space cadet calling Major Tom
Or drunkenly fucking on Porn Hub dot com
Doesn’t have the same energy as cooking crack
Booger sugar wouldn’t do shit for my back
Don’t have a meth lab on the bottom floor
Not making poison pills out of a nuclear core
The magic medicine works, I’m off to bed
Maybe one day it’ll unfuck my head
I wrote a love letter to Advil liquid gels
More like a commercial with intent to sell
A drug deal without the DEA
Just a fucking parade from the FDA
November 8, 2023
Lacy Yang Strikes Again
ACT I
She stands like a halfling, walks like a giant
Forget the kid shit, ‘cause she’s self-reliant
Learned capoeira from the masters of old
Spin-kicking heads until bodies turn cold
Practice on scarecrows, theory on the dance floor
Helicopter kicks and through the air she soars
But no matter how many bones she breaks
There’s always some jerk-ass who calls her a fake
ACT II
Her name is Lacy Yang, but they call her baby girl
And a bunch of other sweet names to make her hurl
She ain’t tall enough to ride the rollercoaster
They say she’s just small enough to fit inside a toaster
As she sipped her hot tea at the capoeira café
She tried to push these thoughts so far away
Until a forty-something with white in his hair
Drunkenly tried to get inside her underwear
ACT III
He’s got Reese’s Pieces and Peanut Butter Cups
A van full of toys and a ranch full of puppy-dups
Lacy Yang told this pervert to fuck off
Two middle fingers for the incel suck-wad
A slap across her face, a prelude to a spanking
Easily forgetting her martial arts ranking
She tied up her dreadlocks in a giant knot
“Come on, you pedo, show me what you’ve got!”
ACT IV
Cartwheeled out of the way of a punch
Flipped off the table, landed with a feather’s touch
He went for a kick, didn’t protect his dick
Lacy threw a crescent heel, sent him spinning like a wheel
Some kangaroo stomps for his bits and pieces
Dragon uppercut to unleash his loose feces
Head butt to the jaw for breaking molestation laws
Knocked the fuck out, the winner wasn’t in doubt
CONCLUSION
David and Goliath is one hell of a legend
Lacy Yang’s story is worth more than a mention
Let this be a lesson to the wicked and dangerous
May you get your ass kicked from Earth to Uranus
She stands like a halfling, walks like a giant
Forget the kid shit, ‘cause she’s self-reliant
Learned capoeira from the masters of old
Spin-kicking heads until bodies turn cold
Practice on scarecrows, theory on the dance floor
Helicopter kicks and through the air she soars
But no matter how many bones she breaks
There’s always some jerk-ass who calls her a fake
ACT II
Her name is Lacy Yang, but they call her baby girl
And a bunch of other sweet names to make her hurl
She ain’t tall enough to ride the rollercoaster
They say she’s just small enough to fit inside a toaster
As she sipped her hot tea at the capoeira café
She tried to push these thoughts so far away
Until a forty-something with white in his hair
Drunkenly tried to get inside her underwear
ACT III
He’s got Reese’s Pieces and Peanut Butter Cups
A van full of toys and a ranch full of puppy-dups
Lacy Yang told this pervert to fuck off
Two middle fingers for the incel suck-wad
A slap across her face, a prelude to a spanking
Easily forgetting her martial arts ranking
She tied up her dreadlocks in a giant knot
“Come on, you pedo, show me what you’ve got!”
ACT IV
Cartwheeled out of the way of a punch
Flipped off the table, landed with a feather’s touch
He went for a kick, didn’t protect his dick
Lacy threw a crescent heel, sent him spinning like a wheel
Some kangaroo stomps for his bits and pieces
Dragon uppercut to unleash his loose feces
Head butt to the jaw for breaking molestation laws
Knocked the fuck out, the winner wasn’t in doubt
CONCLUSION
David and Goliath is one hell of a legend
Lacy Yang’s story is worth more than a mention
Let this be a lesson to the wicked and dangerous
May you get your ass kicked from Earth to Uranus
October 22, 2023
Monster at Your Door
VERSE 1
There’s a monster at your door, though she looks like an angel
Taking pictures of your house from more than one angle
She won’t be the only one who shows up this evening
They got shotguns for popping, baseball bats for beating
You reach for the gun locked inside your steel cabinet
You got a machete to turn their clothes into cabbage
You got a one-way ticket in case you need to dip
But for now, no movement, just zip your fucking lip
VERSE 2
You can cross the country and then cross the ocean
But the monster’s fanatics are known for their devotion
If she gives marching orders, they’ll march your ass down
If you’re in the biggest city or the tiniest of towns
It takes a marathon sprint to get the fuck away
Until your legs crumble like they’re paper mâché
Until your heart beats at a million per minute
Until your sanity is pushed beyond explosive limits
VERSE 3
Nobody in their right mind will think this is fair
If they do, they got no brain under their hair
Monsters have short fuses over absolutely nothing
The tiniest infraction is worth a lifetime of cussing
Throwing a fit and making big ass scenes
They got fuck-you money and the praise of the machine
But if the history of tyrants is anything to go by
Their empires will crumble as they crocodile cry
There’s a monster at your door, though she looks like an angel
Taking pictures of your house from more than one angle
She won’t be the only one who shows up this evening
They got shotguns for popping, baseball bats for beating
You reach for the gun locked inside your steel cabinet
You got a machete to turn their clothes into cabbage
You got a one-way ticket in case you need to dip
But for now, no movement, just zip your fucking lip
VERSE 2
You can cross the country and then cross the ocean
But the monster’s fanatics are known for their devotion
If she gives marching orders, they’ll march your ass down
If you’re in the biggest city or the tiniest of towns
It takes a marathon sprint to get the fuck away
Until your legs crumble like they’re paper mâché
Until your heart beats at a million per minute
Until your sanity is pushed beyond explosive limits
VERSE 3
Nobody in their right mind will think this is fair
If they do, they got no brain under their hair
Monsters have short fuses over absolutely nothing
The tiniest infraction is worth a lifetime of cussing
Throwing a fit and making big ass scenes
They got fuck-you money and the praise of the machine
But if the history of tyrants is anything to go by
Their empires will crumble as they crocodile cry
October 15, 2023
Clown Grinder
Does this cheeseburger taste funny to you?
It’s ground-up clowns, the whole circus crew
There aren’t enough bottles of Pepto Bismol
To wash down the taste of Bozo’s big balls
There’s a blood-soaked war in your intestines
Bacteria and viruses with automatic weapons
Vomit your carcass inside the fuck out
Or they can exit through the Hershey Highway route
Hellfire fever immolating your soul
Acid trip dreams about your blistered asshole
Stay away from your bottle of Advil
Lest you want to drop a load heavier than an anvil
Get on the phone with the CDC
Clowns’ Decaying Corpses, eat lean beef
I hope someone sends you a Get Well card
“May your anal casualties again become hard”
Who’s in charge of the menu today?
They’ve got a billion in lawsuits to finally pay
Now you’ve got your check, so what’s for dinner?
The mind is strong, but food addiction is the winner
Get the clown grinder ready for another serving
Diarrhea Armageddon is never too unnerving
A weight loss strategy for the new age
In history books, you’re thin enough to be a page
It’s ground-up clowns, the whole circus crew
There aren’t enough bottles of Pepto Bismol
To wash down the taste of Bozo’s big balls
There’s a blood-soaked war in your intestines
Bacteria and viruses with automatic weapons
Vomit your carcass inside the fuck out
Or they can exit through the Hershey Highway route
Hellfire fever immolating your soul
Acid trip dreams about your blistered asshole
Stay away from your bottle of Advil
Lest you want to drop a load heavier than an anvil
Get on the phone with the CDC
Clowns’ Decaying Corpses, eat lean beef
I hope someone sends you a Get Well card
“May your anal casualties again become hard”
Who’s in charge of the menu today?
They’ve got a billion in lawsuits to finally pay
Now you’ve got your check, so what’s for dinner?
The mind is strong, but food addiction is the winner
Get the clown grinder ready for another serving
Diarrhea Armageddon is never too unnerving
A weight loss strategy for the new age
In history books, you’re thin enough to be a page
October 2, 2023
The Happy Park
ACT I
Welcome to The Happy Park
Frisbees thrown, puppies bark
Novels read underneath the trees
Relaxing in the warmest breeze
Children play on slides and swings
Monkey bars and trampolines
Even when the sun has set
The dark day isn’t over yet
ACT II
Wonder why the grass is colorful?
Elves are buried in shallow holes
Why’s there dragon fruit on trees?
A faerie army fell to their knees
Why are the swing sets so sturdy?
Dwarven bones thick and dirty
No Happy Park without sacrifice
Your favorite creatures cold as ice
ACT III
You don’t have to ask questions
As rainbow bubbles grab attentions
Live, laugh, play every day
Nothing wrong with our brutal ways
Your parents pay their tax dollars
So colorful critters will die and holler
Don’t mind the rumbling in your guts
Work a little harder if you’ve got the nuts
CONCLUSION
If you don’t appreciate genocide
We can always take a bulldozer for a ride
Be grateful for the shallow beauty
Picketing is for the fruity
We got the magic wands and staffs
Sorcerers and their belly laughs
Eight foot tall barbarians
Back up your youthful arrogance
Have a nice day! Come back tomorrow
Take the edge off your so-called sorrows
Play in the park and be grateful
Who cares if its history is bleak and hateful?
Welcome to The Happy Park
Frisbees thrown, puppies bark
Novels read underneath the trees
Relaxing in the warmest breeze
Children play on slides and swings
Monkey bars and trampolines
Even when the sun has set
The dark day isn’t over yet
ACT II
Wonder why the grass is colorful?
Elves are buried in shallow holes
Why’s there dragon fruit on trees?
A faerie army fell to their knees
Why are the swing sets so sturdy?
Dwarven bones thick and dirty
No Happy Park without sacrifice
Your favorite creatures cold as ice
ACT III
You don’t have to ask questions
As rainbow bubbles grab attentions
Live, laugh, play every day
Nothing wrong with our brutal ways
Your parents pay their tax dollars
So colorful critters will die and holler
Don’t mind the rumbling in your guts
Work a little harder if you’ve got the nuts
CONCLUSION
If you don’t appreciate genocide
We can always take a bulldozer for a ride
Be grateful for the shallow beauty
Picketing is for the fruity
We got the magic wands and staffs
Sorcerers and their belly laughs
Eight foot tall barbarians
Back up your youthful arrogance
Have a nice day! Come back tomorrow
Take the edge off your so-called sorrows
Play in the park and be grateful
Who cares if its history is bleak and hateful?
September 29, 2023
The Schizophrenic's Creed
I am a schizophrenic
I didn’t ask to be one
I didn’t choose this life for myself
This life chose me
There are others like me who suffer as I do
But I am more than a statistic
I am a dreamer
I am a survivor
I am a warrior fighting against my past
My traumas are not my fault
I deserve better treatment from the world
Despite knowing this, my schizophrenia is still a part of me
It cannot be gaslit away
It cannot be prayed away
It is a disease just like any other
It’s no different from a fever
It’s a psychological cancer
The reason it exists is to destroy me from within
It has no other purpose
It is a curse I carry until the day I die
Hopefully, that day will come slowly
I have so much to do in this world despite my mind ghosts
I have people to love
I have art to create and consume
I have minds to change and hearts to care for
I do not know this yet and I may never know until it’s too late
But this world is a colder place without me and people like me
The world doesn’t love me, but I love the world
I’ll stay for as long as I can, even when my voices tell me lies
Amen!
I didn’t ask to be one
I didn’t choose this life for myself
This life chose me
There are others like me who suffer as I do
But I am more than a statistic
I am a dreamer
I am a survivor
I am a warrior fighting against my past
My traumas are not my fault
I deserve better treatment from the world
Despite knowing this, my schizophrenia is still a part of me
It cannot be gaslit away
It cannot be prayed away
It is a disease just like any other
It’s no different from a fever
It’s a psychological cancer
The reason it exists is to destroy me from within
It has no other purpose
It is a curse I carry until the day I die
Hopefully, that day will come slowly
I have so much to do in this world despite my mind ghosts
I have people to love
I have art to create and consume
I have minds to change and hearts to care for
I do not know this yet and I may never know until it’s too late
But this world is a colder place without me and people like me
The world doesn’t love me, but I love the world
I’ll stay for as long as I can, even when my voices tell me lies
Amen!
September 26, 2023
Bad Comedy
(In the style of “Bad Company” by Bad Company)
VERSE 1
Comedy is supposed to be about fun
I’d rather off myself with a loaded gun
You were born with sense of humor cancer
The crowd is dead, army of a necromancer
CHORUS 1
That’s why they call you
Bad comedy, not a laugh or a cry
Bad, bad comedy, your edge is all a lie
Your edge is all a lie
Your edge is all a lie
VERSE 2
Oh so brave, a rebel you’ve been called
Truth teller? I’ve never been so appalled
And now these crowds, they boo you off the stage
Your lame-ass jokes, they will poorly age
CHORUS 2
That’s why they call you
Bad comedy, you got too many tries
Bad, bad comedy, no pay-per-view buys
No pay-per-view buys
No pay-per-view buys
BRIDGE
Laugh at the vulnerable
Laugh at the “truth”
You’re wasting your time
We’re wasting our youth
CHORUS 3
That’s why they call you
Bad comedy, go ahead and deny
Bad, bad comedy, shut up and make my fries
Shut up and make my fries
Until the day you die
VERSE 1
Comedy is supposed to be about fun
I’d rather off myself with a loaded gun
You were born with sense of humor cancer
The crowd is dead, army of a necromancer
CHORUS 1
That’s why they call you
Bad comedy, not a laugh or a cry
Bad, bad comedy, your edge is all a lie
Your edge is all a lie
Your edge is all a lie
VERSE 2
Oh so brave, a rebel you’ve been called
Truth teller? I’ve never been so appalled
And now these crowds, they boo you off the stage
Your lame-ass jokes, they will poorly age
CHORUS 2
That’s why they call you
Bad comedy, you got too many tries
Bad, bad comedy, no pay-per-view buys
No pay-per-view buys
No pay-per-view buys
BRIDGE
Laugh at the vulnerable
Laugh at the “truth”
You’re wasting your time
We’re wasting our youth
CHORUS 3
That’s why they call you
Bad comedy, go ahead and deny
Bad, bad comedy, shut up and make my fries
Shut up and make my fries
Until the day you die
