Call for Submissions
Horror, Sleaze and Trash is currently accepting poetry submissions for the Summer 2017 issue of HST Quarterly.
If you're familiar with our website, then you already know the type of shit we usually publish, but our previous issues should give you an even better idea of what we'd like for the book. Please visit our Submissions page or submit directly to the editor at arthur.graham.pub@gmail.com.
All contributors are entitled to print/distribute their own copies however they see fit, so send us your very best shit!
message 151:
by
Arthur
(new)
Apr 11, 2017 12:35PM
Personally, I prefer to fuck 'em AND let 'em go write poetry, but maybe that's just me.
reply
|
flag
Arthur wrote: "PruneC wrote: "This is my last comment about drunken, horny females. Fuck 'em all or let 'em go write "poetry" for other drunken, horny females."
Or just send 'em on over to my place -- either way..."
My sympathies. Ostensibly (that means apparently, Casey, but sounds literary) you have been burdened with chronic teenage hormonal disorder. CTHD is a bitch.
Or just send 'em on over to my place -- either way..."
My sympathies. Ostensibly (that means apparently, Casey, but sounds literary) you have been burdened with chronic teenage hormonal disorder. CTHD is a bitch.
I'm interested in bringing this thread back to talking about Horror Sleaze Trash. Arthur, I've got haikus for you. Can we do haikus? I'm curious to know what other people have to. Tell me tell me!
Thank you, Jeff... I try not to get sucked in, but it just happened.I have a some poo-tree for you too! :)
Jeff wrote: "Arthur, I've got haikus for you. Can we do haikus?"I'm still potentially interested in publishing that one we discussed, and totally open to reading more.
A said; "Isn't that exactly the point to this lifestyle? "Fuck 'em all or let 'em go write poetry" Mmhmm, wouldn't trade it for the world :) "
No doubt. But, Leonard and I are taking the long odds and are waiting for the miracle to come. heaven may be on the hill.
Musical cheer soon follows.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RWI4A...
Sorry Casey; you wouldn't like it here. The maestro says it's Mozart, but it sounds like bubble gum.
No doubt. But, Leonard and I are taking the long odds and are waiting for the miracle to come. heaven may be on the hill.
Musical cheer soon follows.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RWI4A...
Sorry Casey; you wouldn't like it here. The maestro says it's Mozart, but it sounds like bubble gum.
Arthur wrote: "Personally, I prefer to fuck 'em AND let 'em go write poetry, but maybe that's just me."
I'm not sure; but I don't think you can have it both ways; nevermind three.
I'm not sure; but I don't think you can have it both ways; nevermind three.
Jeff wrote: "I'm interested in bringing this thread back to talking about Horror Sleaze Trash. Arthur, I've got haikus for you. Can we do haikus? I'm curious to know what other people have to. Tell me tell me!"
They've been saying that retro is out for so long that it's probably back in. King Arthur; watchewsay?
They've been saying that retro is out for so long that it's probably back in. King Arthur; watchewsay?
A. wrote: "Thank you, Jeff... I try not to get sucked in, but it just happened.
I have a some poo-tree for you too! :)"
Suddenly I understand the owner of the HST site.
I have a some poo-tree for you too! :)"
Suddenly I understand the owner of the HST site.
Arthur said; "I'm still potentially interested in publishing that one we discussed, and totally open to reading more."
Yoo tawkin' to meee? I mean, like, uh, yoo might be talkin't to this Jeff dude; but uh I get the idea that yoo might be talkin' to mee. *Series of derisive sniggers* So, like uh yoo might do well to no that if yoo talkin' to mee, that goofin' shit ain't gonna play no mufuggin nashunal anthem down hyah boy.
Yoo tawkin' to meee? I mean, like, uh, yoo might be talkin't to this Jeff dude; but uh I get the idea that yoo might be talkin' to mee. *Series of derisive sniggers* So, like uh yoo might do well to no that if yoo talkin' to mee, that goofin' shit ain't gonna play no mufuggin nashunal anthem down hyah boy.
PruneC wrote: "Yoo tawkin' to meee?"I already told you I'm getting out of the poetry game before I wind up like Tupac.
Arthur said; "I already told you I'm getting out of the poetry game before I wind up like Tupac. "
Yeah, yeah; I remember now.
Shit. "I already told you" brings back bad memories oF what one of the factory rejects used to tell me all the time.
One day I was kinda pissy probably cause I only farted that AM, and told her; "Scuse the fuck outta me for not memorizing all the stupid, mufuggin' shit you say, bitch,"
I was figuring that I was gettin' no parts of pussy for the foreseable future. Right? Next thing you know the bitch was like up close, real sweet, rubbing my crotch and shit. She said; "I was waiting fucking forever for you to say that."
Go figure. This more like HST ouvre?
Yeah, yeah; I remember now.
Shit. "I already told you" brings back bad memories oF what one of the factory rejects used to tell me all the time.
One day I was kinda pissy probably cause I only farted that AM, and told her; "Scuse the fuck outta me for not memorizing all the stupid, mufuggin' shit you say, bitch,"
I was figuring that I was gettin' no parts of pussy for the foreseable future. Right? Next thing you know the bitch was like up close, real sweet, rubbing my crotch and shit. She said; "I was waiting fucking forever for you to say that."
Go figure. This more like HST ouvre?
You're right about the middle ground, Arthur. I say and think that I want to be a best seller, which mostly requires that. But, I guess when you come right down to it (I'm not referring to you Casey) I don't; though children's books force you there.
EMBARRASING PLUG
My first book was "Deadly Compromises." Middle = compromise. His compromise led him to become a hit man; hers a trophy wife for a truly despicable businessman who watches her all the time.
So, if they're to get off their compromised lives Mr. Businessman has to go six feet under. He does, but probably not how you would first expect.
Casey can write how stupid that is and I won't care.
Sorry, GR. Reviews and messages have zero effect on book sales. It helps to occasionally read a business periodical.
EMBARRASING PLUG
My first book was "Deadly Compromises." Middle = compromise. His compromise led him to become a hit man; hers a trophy wife for a truly despicable businessman who watches her all the time.
So, if they're to get off their compromised lives Mr. Businessman has to go six feet under. He does, but probably not how you would first expect.
Casey can write how stupid that is and I won't care.
Sorry, GR. Reviews and messages have zero effect on book sales. It helps to occasionally read a business periodical.
Arthur wrote: "PruneC wrote: "Yoo tawkin' to meee?"
I already told you I'm getting out of the poetry game before I wind up like Tupac."
Black, cool, and rich?
I already told you I'm getting out of the poetry game before I wind up like Tupac."
Black, cool, and rich?
Back around daybreak, guess who wrote; "You are becoming a bore."
No, it wasn't my wife. ...................... And I wouldn't tell you if it was. It was yo mama; apologies for using the copyrighted material of Douglas Hackle.
Has my increased eclecticsm made my chances of getting a fart poem published any better?
No, it wasn't my wife. ...................... And I wouldn't tell you if it was. It was yo mama; apologies for using the copyrighted material of Douglas Hackle.
Has my increased eclecticsm made my chances of getting a fart poem published any better?
For the many of my fans who have inquired about my influences, and have been patiently waiting for a response; unforthcoming due to the multiplicity, myriad, and mothballed complexity of the issue, in an effort to mislead no one but the Politically Correct Police (PCP) I have enclosed this song which I've memorized by heart, since my brain has been filled with brainy stuff.
"Alice's Restaurant Massacree"
This song is called Alice's Restaurant, and it's about Alice, and the restaurant.
But Alice's Restaurant is not the name of the restaurant, that's just the name of the song, and that's why I called the song, Alice's Restaurant.
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant
Walk right in it's around the back, just a half a mile from the railroad track
An' you can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant
Now it all started two Thanksgivings ago, was on - two years ago on Thanksgiving, when my friend and I went up to visit Alice at the restaurant, but Alice doesn't live in the restaurant, she lives in the church nearby the restaurant, in the bell-tower, with her husband Ray and Fasha the dog.
And livin' in the bell tower like that, they got a lot of room downstairs where the pews used to be.
An' havin' all that room, seein' as how they took out all the pews, they decided that they didn't have to take out their garbage for a long time.
We got up there, we found all the garbage in there, and we decided it'd be a friendly gesture for us to take the garbage down to the city dump. So we took the half a ton of garbage, put it in the back of a red VW microbus, took shovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headed on toward the city dump.
Well, we got there and there was a big sign and a chain across across the dump saying, "Closed on Thanksgiving."
And we had never heard of a dump closed on Thanksgiving before, and with tears in our eyes we drove off into the sunset looking for another place to put the garbage.
We didn't find one. Until we came to a side road, and off the side of the side road there was another fifteen foot cliff and at the bottom of the cliff there was another pile of garbage.
And we decided that one big pile is better than two little piles, and rather than bring that one up we decided to throw ours down.
That's what we did, and drove back to the church, had a thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat, went to sleep and didn't get up until the next morning, when we got a phone call from officer Obie.
He said, "Kid, we found your name on an envelope at the bottom of ab' a half a ton of garbage, and just wanted to know if you had any information about it."
And I said, "Yes, sir, Officer Obie, I cannot tell a lie, I put that envelope under that garbage."
After speaking to Obie for about fourty-five minutes on the telephone we finally arrived at the truth of the matter and said, that we had to go down and pick up the garbage, and also had to go down and speak to him at the police officer's station.
So we got in the red VW microbus with the shovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headed on toward the police officer's station.
Now friends, there was only one or two things that Obie coulda done at the police station, and the first was he coulda given us a medal for being so brave and honest on the telephone, which wasn't very likely, and we didn't expect it, and the other thing was he coulda bawled us out and told us never to be see driving garbage around the vicinity again, which is what we expected, but when we got to the police officer's station there was a third possibility that we hadn't even counted upon, and we was both immediately arrested. Handcuffed. And I said "Obie, I don't think I can pick up the garbage with these handcuffs on." He said, "Shut up, kid. Get in the back of the patrol car."
And that's what we did, sat in the back of the patrol car and drove to the quote Scene of the Crime unquote. I want tell you about the town of Stockbridge, Massachusetts, where this happened here, they got three stop signs, two police officers, and one police car, but when we got to the Scene of the Crime there was five police officers and three police cars, being the biggest crime of the last fifty years, and everybody wanted to get in the newspaper story about it. And they was using up all kinds of cop equipment that they had hangin' around the police officer's station. They was taking plaster tire tracks, foot prints, dog smelling prints, and they took twenty seven eight-by-ten color glossy photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was to be used as evidence against us. Took pictures of the approach, the getaway, the northwest corner the southwest corner and that's not to mention the aerial photography.
After the ordeal, we went back to the jail. Obie said he was going to put us in the cell. Said, "Kid, I'm going to put you in the cell, I want your wallet and your belt." And I said, "Obie, I can understand you wanting my wallet so I don't have any money to spend in the cell, but what do you want my belt for?" And he said, "Kid, we don't want any hangings." I said, "Obie, did you think I was going to hang myself for litterin'?" Obie said he was making sure, and friends Obie was, cause he took out the toilet seat so I couldn't hit myself over the head and drown, and he took out the toilet paper so I couldn't bend the bars roll out the - roll the toilet paper out the window, slide down the roll and have an escape. Obie was making sure, and it was about four or five hours later that Alice... Remember Alice? It's a song about Alice... Alice came by and with a few nasty words to Obie on the side, bailed us out of jail, and we went back to the church, had a another thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat, and didn't get up until the next morning, when we all had to go to court.
We walked in, sat down, Obie came in with the twenty seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one, sat down. Man came in said, "All rise." We all stood up, and Obie stood up with the twenty seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures, and the judge walked in sat down with a seeing eye dog, and he sat down, we sat down. Obie looked at the seeing eye dog, and then at the twenty seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one, and looked at the seeing eye dog. And then at twenty seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one and began to cry, 'cause Obie came to the realization that it was a typical case of American blind justice, and there wasn't nothing he could do about it, and the judge wasn't going to look at the twenty seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was to be used as evidence against us. And we was fined fifty dollars and had to pick up the garbage in the snow, but that's not what I came to tell you about.
Came to talk about the draft.
They got a building down in New York City, it's called Whitehall Street, where you walk in, you get injected, inspected, detected, infected, neglected and selected. I went down to get my physical examination one day, and I walked in, I sat down, got good and drunk the night before, so I looked and felt my best when I went in that morning. 'Cause I wanted to look like the all-American kid from New York City, man I wanted, I wanted to feel like the all-, I wanted to be the all American kid from New York, and I walked in, sat down, I was hung down, brung down, hung up, and all kinds o' mean nasty ugly things. And I waked in and sat down and they gave me a piece of paper, said, "Kid, see the psychiatrist, room 604."
And I went up there, I said, "Shrink, I want to kill. I mean, I wanna, I wanna kill. Kill. I wanna, I wanna see, I wanna see blood and gore and guts and veins in my teeth. Eat dead burnt bodies. I mean kill, kill, kill, kill." And I started jumpin' up and down yelling, "Kill! Kill!" and he started jumpin' up and down with me and we was both jumping up and down yelling, "Kill! Kill!" And the Sargent came over, pinned a medal on me, sent me down the hall, said, "You're our boy."
Didn't feel too good about it.
An' I proceeded on down the hall gettin' more injections, inspections, detections, neglections and all kinds of stuff that they as doin' to me at the thing there, and I was there for two hours, three hours, four hours, I was there for a long time going through all kinds of mean nasty ugly things and I was just having a tough time there, and they was inspecting, injecting every single part of me, and they was leaving no part untouched. Proceeded through, and when I finally came to the see the last man, I walked in, walked in sat down after a whole big thing there, and I walked up and said, "What do you want?" He said, "Kid, we only got one question. Have you ever been arrested?"
And I proceeded to tell him the story of the Alice's Restaurant Massacre, with full orchestration and five part harmony and stuff like that and all the phenome... - and he stopped me right there and said, "Kid, did you ever go to court?"
And I proceeded to tell him the story of the twenty seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and the paragraph on the back of each one, and he stopped me right there and said, "Kid, I want you to go and sit down on that bench that says Group W, now kid!"
And I, I walked over to the, to the bench there, and there is, Group W's where they put you if you may not be moral enough to join the army after committin' your special crime, and there was all kinds of mean nasty ugly looking people on the bench there. Mother rapers. Father stabbers. Father rapers! Father rapers sitting right there on the bench next to me! And they was mean and nasty and ugly and horrible crime-type guys sitting on the bench next to me. And the meanest, ugliest, nastiest one, the meanest father raper of them all, was coming over to me and he was mean 'n' ugly 'n' nasty 'n' horrible and all kind of things and he sat down next to me and said, "Kid, whad'ya get?" I said, "I didn't get nothing, I had to pay $50 and pick up the garbage." He said, "What were you arrested for, kid?" And I said, "Litterin'." And they all moved away from me on the bench there, and the hairy eyeball and all kinds of mean nasty things, till I said, "And creating a nuisance." And they all came back, shook my hand, and we had a great time on the bench, talkin' about crime, mother stabbing, father raping, all kinds of groovy things that we was talking about on the bench. And everything was fine, we was smoking cigarettes and all kinds of things, until the Sargent came over, had some paper in his hand, held it up and said.
"Kids, this-piece-of-paper's-got-47-words-37-sentences-58-words-we-wanna-know-details-of-the-crime-time-of-the-crime-and-any-other-kind-of-thing-you-gotta-say-pertaining-to-and-about-the-crime-I-want-to-know-arresting-officer's-name-and-any-other-kind-of-thing-you-gotta-say", and talked for forty-five minutes and nobody understood a word that he said, but we had fun filling out the forms and playing with the pencils on the bench there, and I filled out the massacre with the four part harmony, and wrote it down there, just like it was, and everything was fine and I put down the pencil, and I turned over the piece of paper, and there, there on the other side, in the middle of the other side, away from everything else on the other side, in parentheses, capital letters, quotated, read the following words:
("Kid, have you rehabilitated yourself?")
I went over to the Sargent, said, "Sargent, you got a lot a damn gall to ask me if I've rehabilitated myself, I mean, I mean, I mean that just, I'm sittin' here on the bench, I mean I'm sittin'
"Alice's Restaurant Massacree"
This song is called Alice's Restaurant, and it's about Alice, and the restaurant.
But Alice's Restaurant is not the name of the restaurant, that's just the name of the song, and that's why I called the song, Alice's Restaurant.
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant
Walk right in it's around the back, just a half a mile from the railroad track
An' you can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant
Now it all started two Thanksgivings ago, was on - two years ago on Thanksgiving, when my friend and I went up to visit Alice at the restaurant, but Alice doesn't live in the restaurant, she lives in the church nearby the restaurant, in the bell-tower, with her husband Ray and Fasha the dog.
And livin' in the bell tower like that, they got a lot of room downstairs where the pews used to be.
An' havin' all that room, seein' as how they took out all the pews, they decided that they didn't have to take out their garbage for a long time.
We got up there, we found all the garbage in there, and we decided it'd be a friendly gesture for us to take the garbage down to the city dump. So we took the half a ton of garbage, put it in the back of a red VW microbus, took shovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headed on toward the city dump.
Well, we got there and there was a big sign and a chain across across the dump saying, "Closed on Thanksgiving."
And we had never heard of a dump closed on Thanksgiving before, and with tears in our eyes we drove off into the sunset looking for another place to put the garbage.
We didn't find one. Until we came to a side road, and off the side of the side road there was another fifteen foot cliff and at the bottom of the cliff there was another pile of garbage.
And we decided that one big pile is better than two little piles, and rather than bring that one up we decided to throw ours down.
That's what we did, and drove back to the church, had a thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat, went to sleep and didn't get up until the next morning, when we got a phone call from officer Obie.
He said, "Kid, we found your name on an envelope at the bottom of ab' a half a ton of garbage, and just wanted to know if you had any information about it."
And I said, "Yes, sir, Officer Obie, I cannot tell a lie, I put that envelope under that garbage."
After speaking to Obie for about fourty-five minutes on the telephone we finally arrived at the truth of the matter and said, that we had to go down and pick up the garbage, and also had to go down and speak to him at the police officer's station.
So we got in the red VW microbus with the shovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headed on toward the police officer's station.
Now friends, there was only one or two things that Obie coulda done at the police station, and the first was he coulda given us a medal for being so brave and honest on the telephone, which wasn't very likely, and we didn't expect it, and the other thing was he coulda bawled us out and told us never to be see driving garbage around the vicinity again, which is what we expected, but when we got to the police officer's station there was a third possibility that we hadn't even counted upon, and we was both immediately arrested. Handcuffed. And I said "Obie, I don't think I can pick up the garbage with these handcuffs on." He said, "Shut up, kid. Get in the back of the patrol car."
And that's what we did, sat in the back of the patrol car and drove to the quote Scene of the Crime unquote. I want tell you about the town of Stockbridge, Massachusetts, where this happened here, they got three stop signs, two police officers, and one police car, but when we got to the Scene of the Crime there was five police officers and three police cars, being the biggest crime of the last fifty years, and everybody wanted to get in the newspaper story about it. And they was using up all kinds of cop equipment that they had hangin' around the police officer's station. They was taking plaster tire tracks, foot prints, dog smelling prints, and they took twenty seven eight-by-ten color glossy photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was to be used as evidence against us. Took pictures of the approach, the getaway, the northwest corner the southwest corner and that's not to mention the aerial photography.
After the ordeal, we went back to the jail. Obie said he was going to put us in the cell. Said, "Kid, I'm going to put you in the cell, I want your wallet and your belt." And I said, "Obie, I can understand you wanting my wallet so I don't have any money to spend in the cell, but what do you want my belt for?" And he said, "Kid, we don't want any hangings." I said, "Obie, did you think I was going to hang myself for litterin'?" Obie said he was making sure, and friends Obie was, cause he took out the toilet seat so I couldn't hit myself over the head and drown, and he took out the toilet paper so I couldn't bend the bars roll out the - roll the toilet paper out the window, slide down the roll and have an escape. Obie was making sure, and it was about four or five hours later that Alice... Remember Alice? It's a song about Alice... Alice came by and with a few nasty words to Obie on the side, bailed us out of jail, and we went back to the church, had a another thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat, and didn't get up until the next morning, when we all had to go to court.
We walked in, sat down, Obie came in with the twenty seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one, sat down. Man came in said, "All rise." We all stood up, and Obie stood up with the twenty seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures, and the judge walked in sat down with a seeing eye dog, and he sat down, we sat down. Obie looked at the seeing eye dog, and then at the twenty seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one, and looked at the seeing eye dog. And then at twenty seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one and began to cry, 'cause Obie came to the realization that it was a typical case of American blind justice, and there wasn't nothing he could do about it, and the judge wasn't going to look at the twenty seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was to be used as evidence against us. And we was fined fifty dollars and had to pick up the garbage in the snow, but that's not what I came to tell you about.
Came to talk about the draft.
They got a building down in New York City, it's called Whitehall Street, where you walk in, you get injected, inspected, detected, infected, neglected and selected. I went down to get my physical examination one day, and I walked in, I sat down, got good and drunk the night before, so I looked and felt my best when I went in that morning. 'Cause I wanted to look like the all-American kid from New York City, man I wanted, I wanted to feel like the all-, I wanted to be the all American kid from New York, and I walked in, sat down, I was hung down, brung down, hung up, and all kinds o' mean nasty ugly things. And I waked in and sat down and they gave me a piece of paper, said, "Kid, see the psychiatrist, room 604."
And I went up there, I said, "Shrink, I want to kill. I mean, I wanna, I wanna kill. Kill. I wanna, I wanna see, I wanna see blood and gore and guts and veins in my teeth. Eat dead burnt bodies. I mean kill, kill, kill, kill." And I started jumpin' up and down yelling, "Kill! Kill!" and he started jumpin' up and down with me and we was both jumping up and down yelling, "Kill! Kill!" And the Sargent came over, pinned a medal on me, sent me down the hall, said, "You're our boy."
Didn't feel too good about it.
An' I proceeded on down the hall gettin' more injections, inspections, detections, neglections and all kinds of stuff that they as doin' to me at the thing there, and I was there for two hours, three hours, four hours, I was there for a long time going through all kinds of mean nasty ugly things and I was just having a tough time there, and they was inspecting, injecting every single part of me, and they was leaving no part untouched. Proceeded through, and when I finally came to the see the last man, I walked in, walked in sat down after a whole big thing there, and I walked up and said, "What do you want?" He said, "Kid, we only got one question. Have you ever been arrested?"
And I proceeded to tell him the story of the Alice's Restaurant Massacre, with full orchestration and five part harmony and stuff like that and all the phenome... - and he stopped me right there and said, "Kid, did you ever go to court?"
And I proceeded to tell him the story of the twenty seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and the paragraph on the back of each one, and he stopped me right there and said, "Kid, I want you to go and sit down on that bench that says Group W, now kid!"
And I, I walked over to the, to the bench there, and there is, Group W's where they put you if you may not be moral enough to join the army after committin' your special crime, and there was all kinds of mean nasty ugly looking people on the bench there. Mother rapers. Father stabbers. Father rapers! Father rapers sitting right there on the bench next to me! And they was mean and nasty and ugly and horrible crime-type guys sitting on the bench next to me. And the meanest, ugliest, nastiest one, the meanest father raper of them all, was coming over to me and he was mean 'n' ugly 'n' nasty 'n' horrible and all kind of things and he sat down next to me and said, "Kid, whad'ya get?" I said, "I didn't get nothing, I had to pay $50 and pick up the garbage." He said, "What were you arrested for, kid?" And I said, "Litterin'." And they all moved away from me on the bench there, and the hairy eyeball and all kinds of mean nasty things, till I said, "And creating a nuisance." And they all came back, shook my hand, and we had a great time on the bench, talkin' about crime, mother stabbing, father raping, all kinds of groovy things that we was talking about on the bench. And everything was fine, we was smoking cigarettes and all kinds of things, until the Sargent came over, had some paper in his hand, held it up and said.
"Kids, this-piece-of-paper's-got-47-words-37-sentences-58-words-we-wanna-know-details-of-the-crime-time-of-the-crime-and-any-other-kind-of-thing-you-gotta-say-pertaining-to-and-about-the-crime-I-want-to-know-arresting-officer's-name-and-any-other-kind-of-thing-you-gotta-say", and talked for forty-five minutes and nobody understood a word that he said, but we had fun filling out the forms and playing with the pencils on the bench there, and I filled out the massacre with the four part harmony, and wrote it down there, just like it was, and everything was fine and I put down the pencil, and I turned over the piece of paper, and there, there on the other side, in the middle of the other side, away from everything else on the other side, in parentheses, capital letters, quotated, read the following words:
("Kid, have you rehabilitated yourself?")
I went over to the Sargent, said, "Sargent, you got a lot a damn gall to ask me if I've rehabilitated myself, I mean, I mean, I mean that just, I'm sittin' here on the bench, I mean I'm sittin'
I mean I'm sittin' here on the Group W bench, 'cause you want to know if I'm moral enough join the army, burn women, kids, houses and villages after bein' a litterbug." He looked at me and said, "Kid, we don't like your kind, and we're gonna send you fingerprints off to Washington."
And friends, somewhere in Washington enshrined in some little folder, is a study in black and white of my fingerprints. And the only reason I'm singing you this song now is cause you may know somebody in a similar situation, or you may be in a similar situation, and if your in a situation like that there's only one thing you can do and that's walk into the shrink wherever you are, just walk in say "Shrink, You can get anything you want, at Alice's restaurant." And walk out. You know, if one person, just one person does it they may think he's really sick and they won't take him. And if two people, two people do it, in harmony, they may think they're both faggots and they won't take either of them. And three people do it, three, can you imagine, three people walking in singin' a bar of Alice's Restaurant and walking out. They may think it's an organization. And can you, can you imagine fifty people a day, I said fifty people a day walking in singin' a bar of Alice's Restaurant and walking out. And friends they may thinks it's a movement.
And that's what it is, the Alice's Restaurant Anti-Massacree Movement, and all you got to do to join is sing it the next time it come's around on the guitar.
With feeling. So we'll wait for it to come around on the guitar, here and sing it when it does. Here it comes.
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
Walk right in it's around the back, just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
That was horrible. If you want to end war and stuff you got to sing loud. I've been singing this song now for twenty five minutes. I could sing it for another twenty five minutes. I'm not proud... or tired.
So we'll wait till it comes around again, and this time with four part harmony and feeling.
We're just waitin' for it to come around is what we're doing.
All right now.
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant (Excepting Alice)
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
(I said) Walk right in it's around the back, just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
Da-da da-da da-da da-dum
At Alice's Restaurant
And friends, somewhere in Washington enshrined in some little folder, is a study in black and white of my fingerprints. And the only reason I'm singing you this song now is cause you may know somebody in a similar situation, or you may be in a similar situation, and if your in a situation like that there's only one thing you can do and that's walk into the shrink wherever you are, just walk in say "Shrink, You can get anything you want, at Alice's restaurant." And walk out. You know, if one person, just one person does it they may think he's really sick and they won't take him. And if two people, two people do it, in harmony, they may think they're both faggots and they won't take either of them. And three people do it, three, can you imagine, three people walking in singin' a bar of Alice's Restaurant and walking out. They may think it's an organization. And can you, can you imagine fifty people a day, I said fifty people a day walking in singin' a bar of Alice's Restaurant and walking out. And friends they may thinks it's a movement.
And that's what it is, the Alice's Restaurant Anti-Massacree Movement, and all you got to do to join is sing it the next time it come's around on the guitar.
With feeling. So we'll wait for it to come around on the guitar, here and sing it when it does. Here it comes.
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
Walk right in it's around the back, just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
That was horrible. If you want to end war and stuff you got to sing loud. I've been singing this song now for twenty five minutes. I could sing it for another twenty five minutes. I'm not proud... or tired.
So we'll wait till it comes around again, and this time with four part harmony and feeling.
We're just waitin' for it to come around is what we're doing.
All right now.
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant (Excepting Alice)
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
(I said) Walk right in it's around the back, just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
Da-da da-da da-da da-dum
At Alice's Restaurant
PruneC wrote: "Black, cool, and rich?"Also, dead before twenty-six? I guess I shouldn't try hanging on forever, but that ship done sailed for me ten years ago... Besides, I'm pretty cool and do alright financially already, and my phase of wanting to be black probably ended shortly after poor Tupac did.
Casey wrote: "Opinions are like assholes and yours is obviously really stretched out."And we have a new queen of comebacks!
Somebody got loose of their straitjacket
Casey wrote; "I think im actually disgnosed with my mother is a narcassistic cuntwad but such is life..
Its ok if you think my poetry sucks. Opinions are like assholes and yours is obviously really stretched out. So i forgive you. I would be upset too. I myself am not much into anal, but i hear guys prefer it when the woman is not pleasant to look at.
I do wonder though, if you hate GR so much, why are you spending your time on here?"
Hey Casey, don't let those diagnoses mess with your super fine mind one little bit. Those court appointed psychiatrists don't know their ass from a hole in the ground.
I know it's OK and I'm not referring to your "poetry." But before anybody starts thinking that we're having a little lover's spat in public, I want to go on record stating that you have never seen my asshole; unless you're the cuntwad that's been sneaking around my windows when I'm in the shower.
Regarding the ass stuff; your wording left it a bit vague as to who was doing what to who. But, don't tell me, because I don't care. Let's just say that if you want to get that "poetry" published by HST, you better stock up on the KY and do some exercises with your milk of magnesia bottle.
Regarding GR, I'm subverting from within. It's a secret, so don't tell anybody.
Its ok if you think my poetry sucks. Opinions are like assholes and yours is obviously really stretched out. So i forgive you. I would be upset too. I myself am not much into anal, but i hear guys prefer it when the woman is not pleasant to look at.
I do wonder though, if you hate GR so much, why are you spending your time on here?"
Hey Casey, don't let those diagnoses mess with your super fine mind one little bit. Those court appointed psychiatrists don't know their ass from a hole in the ground.
I know it's OK and I'm not referring to your "poetry." But before anybody starts thinking that we're having a little lover's spat in public, I want to go on record stating that you have never seen my asshole; unless you're the cuntwad that's been sneaking around my windows when I'm in the shower.
Regarding the ass stuff; your wording left it a bit vague as to who was doing what to who. But, don't tell me, because I don't care. Let's just say that if you want to get that "poetry" published by HST, you better stock up on the KY and do some exercises with your milk of magnesia bottle.
Regarding GR, I'm subverting from within. It's a secret, so don't tell anybody.
PruneC wrote: "Let's just say that if you want to get that "poetry" published by HST, you better stock up on the KY and do some exercises with your milk of magnesia bottle."Actually, the only person who gets fucked on HST is me -- who do you think covers all the printing/shipping costs?
Arthur said; "Also, dead before twenty-six? I guess I shouldn't try hanging on forever, but that ship done sailed for me ten years ago... Besides, I'm pretty cool and do alright financially already, and my phase of wanting to be black probably ended shortly after poor Tupac did."
Well, you can't do that unless you got a fucking time machine, dickhead. I'll take your word on the other schizz.
Lou reed did "I Wanna Be Black," and I thought it was great. Soon to be posted here.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zx7mL...
It's live and instrumental until about the middle. So nano second slaves can either be patient and get off on the visuals or multi-task.
Well, you can't do that unless you got a fucking time machine, dickhead. I'll take your word on the other schizz.
Lou reed did "I Wanna Be Black," and I thought it was great. Soon to be posted here.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zx7mL...
It's live and instrumental until about the middle. So nano second slaves can either be patient and get off on the visuals or multi-task.
Casey wrote: "Somebody got loose of their straitjacket"
Yo mama?
Yo mama?
Arthur said; "Actually, the only person who gets fucked on HST is me -- who do you think covers all the printing/shipping costs?"
The editor doth protest too much. Nobody said anything about getting fucked. I was just wishing the nice lady a beautifully clear day; so that maybe she could think straight for a change.
The editor doth protest too much. Nobody said anything about getting fucked. I was just wishing the nice lady a beautifully clear day; so that maybe she could think straight for a change.
Arthur wrote; "And we have a new queen of comebacks! "
Sometimes that self congratulatory stuff is a bit much.
Sometimes that self congratulatory stuff is a bit much.
Casey wrote: "....and the troll trophy goes to....
https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/2..."
Aw shit. I was trying so hard. Did I at least make the short list?
When I saw "...and the troll trophy goes to...." my only question was whether it was for this season or a lifetime achievement thing.
So somebody else thinks your "poetry" is even more sucko than I do. Damn, that takes quite some doing.
Now I'm crestfallen. I hope you're happy.
https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/2..."
Aw shit. I was trying so hard. Did I at least make the short list?
When I saw "...and the troll trophy goes to...." my only question was whether it was for this season or a lifetime achievement thing.
So somebody else thinks your "poetry" is even more sucko than I do. Damn, that takes quite some doing.
Now I'm crestfallen. I hope you're happy.
Casey wrote: "https://youtu.be/0doSWS0Fj24"
That's a catchy tune. You can dance to it. Bet it goes platinum.
Hey it's great to play into your strength with a subject you know so well.
Got a song they didn't put on prime time "South Park." Last time I posted this GR deleted me in about 5 minutes. But, hey, fuck it, who cares? This is war. "Cheese doodles and cream soda."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5V7i...
That's a catchy tune. You can dance to it. Bet it goes platinum.
Hey it's great to play into your strength with a subject you know so well.
Got a song they didn't put on prime time "South Park." Last time I posted this GR deleted me in about 5 minutes. But, hey, fuck it, who cares? This is war. "Cheese doodles and cream soda."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5V7i...
Intoxicated by the Wine of Love.
From each a mystic silence Love demands.
What do all seek so earnestly? 'Tis Love.
What do they whisper to each other? Love.
Love is the subject of their inmost thoughts.
In Love no longer 'thou' and 'I' exist,
For Self has passed away in the Beloved.
Now will I draw aside the veil from Love,
And in the temple of mine inmost soul,
Behold the Friend; Incomparable Love.
He who would know the secret of both worlds,
Will find the secret of them both, is Love.
Farid ud Din Attar - translation Margaret Smith -The Jawhar Al-Dhat
Doesn't that kind of crap just make you puke? Sure, it's impolite to do that right in front of the New Ager with the beaming wide eyes. But, goddam. Everybody's got a right to be miserable. And no one's biased commentaries are any better than anyone else's. So, why can't the "happy" people just fuck off? They can more easily inflict their damage on unsuspecting toddlers. No one here gets out alive. Duh.
No wonder school kids stick two fingers down their throats when the old bat teacher announces; "Poetry." Shove it ................
From each a mystic silence Love demands.
What do all seek so earnestly? 'Tis Love.
What do they whisper to each other? Love.
Love is the subject of their inmost thoughts.
In Love no longer 'thou' and 'I' exist,
For Self has passed away in the Beloved.
Now will I draw aside the veil from Love,
And in the temple of mine inmost soul,
Behold the Friend; Incomparable Love.
He who would know the secret of both worlds,
Will find the secret of them both, is Love.
Farid ud Din Attar - translation Margaret Smith -The Jawhar Al-Dhat
Doesn't that kind of crap just make you puke? Sure, it's impolite to do that right in front of the New Ager with the beaming wide eyes. But, goddam. Everybody's got a right to be miserable. And no one's biased commentaries are any better than anyone else's. So, why can't the "happy" people just fuck off? They can more easily inflict their damage on unsuspecting toddlers. No one here gets out alive. Duh.
No wonder school kids stick two fingers down their throats when the old bat teacher announces; "Poetry." Shove it ................
Just know, by dragging my work through the dirt, you also putting down those involed with it. I will pass along the message of hate to jasmyn, your granddaughter. You have every right to your opinion and mine is that you're scum on your best day. Take care now.
SUPER DUPER FREE ONE TIME PROMOTION
The unfairly maligned book which six months ago caused another of those "Facebook going viral" overstatements; "The Official Bizarro Bible" by Ed*ard Drob*nski will be free on Amazon from 4-13 to 4-17.
Half of it sucks which is kindly attributed to the author's loss of interest when half done. However at no charge you can get half a decent book.
HINT; You would do well to focus on lengthy chapter 2 and moderate sized chapter 3. Other reading is only useful to indie shithole writers who get encouragement from thinking; "Fuck. I can do better than this asshole."
The unfairly maligned book which six months ago caused another of those "Facebook going viral" overstatements; "The Official Bizarro Bible" by Ed*ard Drob*nski will be free on Amazon from 4-13 to 4-17.
Half of it sucks which is kindly attributed to the author's loss of interest when half done. However at no charge you can get half a decent book.
HINT; You would do well to focus on lengthy chapter 2 and moderate sized chapter 3. Other reading is only useful to indie shithole writers who get encouragement from thinking; "Fuck. I can do better than this asshole."
This thread is like the most happening place on Goodreads right now. We've got people fighting, shamelessly self-promoting, getting WAY off-topic, and even some talk of poetry! Stop on by and toss your own two cents into the shit.
Did I mention BigBoobenstein has a new cover?
Casey wrote: "Just know, by dragging my work through the dirt, you also putting down those involed with it. I will pass along the message of hate to jasmyn, your granddaughter. You have every right to your opini..."
If you think that is "dragging through the dirt" your POV must be the sandbox. On this site, I have said nothing more than "sucko" and meaningless stupidity like that. To "drag through the dirt" at least involves a dissection of and commentary on the work involved.
Your poetry is now known by more people than would otherwise have known it. ...................... Or do you prefer playing the reclusive and sensitive artiste, while bullpissing about those you now conveniently choose to blame for it?
Believe it or not; I don't give two fucks about your constantly offered opinions.
Welcome to the world the bookish fear.
Have another fucked day. Do you remember the last one?
With the lights out, it's less dangerous.
I'm not mad at you. It's just like talking to someone who hasn't yet gotten halfway around the block.
Smiley face. Smiley face. Smiley face. et al at fucking Walmart.
If you think that is "dragging through the dirt" your POV must be the sandbox. On this site, I have said nothing more than "sucko" and meaningless stupidity like that. To "drag through the dirt" at least involves a dissection of and commentary on the work involved.
Your poetry is now known by more people than would otherwise have known it. ...................... Or do you prefer playing the reclusive and sensitive artiste, while bullpissing about those you now conveniently choose to blame for it?
Believe it or not; I don't give two fucks about your constantly offered opinions.
Welcome to the world the bookish fear.
Have another fucked day. Do you remember the last one?
With the lights out, it's less dangerous.
I'm not mad at you. It's just like talking to someone who hasn't yet gotten halfway around the block.
Smiley face. Smiley face. Smiley face. et al at fucking Walmart.
Jeff wrote: "Did I mention BigBoobenstein has a new cover?"
Don't tell me that they gotten even more humongous.
Don't tell me that they gotten even more humongous.
PruneC, you're going to have to read more of Casey's poetry before you'll be in any position to judge it, and even then this will only be your personal opinion. Also, calling it "sucko" outright is like schoolyard shit, and as you know, my little corner of Goodreads is supposed to be one of the more dignified ones.
Arthur, the big boss man wrote; "PruneC, you're going to have to read more of Casey's poetry before you'll be in any position to judge it, and even then this will only be your personal opinion. Also, calling it "sucko" outright is like schoolyard shit, and as you know, my little corner of Goodreads is supposed to be one of the more dignified ones."
Big boss man; as your wording deftly left open, I have no interest in judging it or anything. I'm just a provacateur who doesn't give a shit the majority of the time. ................. Anyway, that's the best schizz I can come up with right now to avoid reading Casey's "poetic gems."
Yeah, it's schoolyard shit. I spent the first 21 years of my life in or across the street from one, so WTF do you expect? Syosset-type "serenity?" Your lack of interest in sports could not possibly allow you to know that the "ball" they used to derisively call schoolyard is now the game played in the high income NBA.
There's enough dignity in that schoolyard to fill 1,000,000 GR threads. See,as you know, the shit is that if you can't dunk, you're limited to college at the most; and it's still true that the ladies can't do that; not even 6'5" Lisa Leslie. She made a ton modelling though.
Big boss man; as your wording deftly left open, I have no interest in judging it or anything. I'm just a provacateur who doesn't give a shit the majority of the time. ................. Anyway, that's the best schizz I can come up with right now to avoid reading Casey's "poetic gems."
Yeah, it's schoolyard shit. I spent the first 21 years of my life in or across the street from one, so WTF do you expect? Syosset-type "serenity?" Your lack of interest in sports could not possibly allow you to know that the "ball" they used to derisively call schoolyard is now the game played in the high income NBA.
There's enough dignity in that schoolyard to fill 1,000,000 GR threads. See,as you know, the shit is that if you can't dunk, you're limited to college at the most; and it's still true that the ladies can't do that; not even 6'5" Lisa Leslie. She made a ton modelling though.
Arthur wrote: "This thread is like the most happening place on Goodreads right now. We've got people fighting, shamelessly self-promoting, getting WAY off-topic, and even some talk of poetry! Stop on by and toss ..."
It's like an undrained cesspool. Diiiisgusting. Appalled. Sometimes smells like being downwind after eight horses took a laxative.
I'm trying to figure out why so many confuse this with Chanel #555. I'm sure you're "ahead" of me there; and I'd appreciate further AG enlightenment.
It's like an undrained cesspool. Diiiisgusting. Appalled. Sometimes smells like being downwind after eight horses took a laxative.
I'm trying to figure out why so many confuse this with Chanel #555. I'm sure you're "ahead" of me there; and I'd appreciate further AG enlightenment.
Awesome, since we're on the schoolyard level..Arthur, will you go with me? Check yes or no!
I promise to write you a sucko poem every Valentine's day😚
"Big boss man"; I like the ring of that...I'm just sayin', if you're "just a provocateur who doesn't give a shit the majority of the time", then it only follows that others present shouldn't give a shit about anything you're saying the majority of the time either. Deal?
I didn't want to jump back into this, so I will just briefly, but if anyone is hurt by mystery man's user profile of the week, go on Amazon and check the ranking for The Official Bizarro Bible in paperback, his magnum opus. You'll understand his vitriol and invective a lot more clearly. That is all.
Casey wrote: "Arthur, will you go with me? Check yes or no!I promise to write you a sucko poem every Valentine's day😚"
What, no 'maybe'? You might have some competition from certain others on this thread, but I will gladly accept sucko poems from you all.
I'm sorry, but PruneC has left me with no choice but to make the following observation: PruneC is a MEAN MAN! He calls people names like "fat" and "dickhead" and "pervert retard." Until he stops being an UNKIND PERSON, I'll have naught to do with him!
Humph! >:/
Arthur wrote: ""Big boss man"; I like the ring of that...
I'm just sayin', if you're "just a provocateur who doesn't give a shit the majority of the time", then it only follows that others present shouldn't give..."
a shit about what I say or write, or some yadda yadda like that.
Never thought anyone but morons did; so never really thought about it. I kind of assumed that. fucking elemental, enematal or elementary my esteemed Watson.
You may be guilty of overexplaining to the thick ears, probably forfeiting the high brow.
You will note that is an observation from a particular POV, which kind of goes without saying, but seemed necessary in context of the prior posts. There is no biased judgement attached. Whatever.
Sorry, fuckhead. Not really.
I'm just sayin', if you're "just a provocateur who doesn't give a shit the majority of the time", then it only follows that others present shouldn't give..."
a shit about what I say or write, or some yadda yadda like that.
Never thought anyone but morons did; so never really thought about it. I kind of assumed that. fucking elemental, enematal or elementary my esteemed Watson.
You may be guilty of overexplaining to the thick ears, probably forfeiting the high brow.
You will note that is an observation from a particular POV, which kind of goes without saying, but seemed necessary in context of the prior posts. There is no biased judgement attached. Whatever.
Sorry, fuckhead. Not really.
Casey wrote: "Fuck sports."
Whatever you'd like. But, do you know that they even let girls play now? Not to belabor, it's just been a few decades for the advanced.
Whatever you'd like. But, do you know that they even let girls play now? Not to belabor, it's just been a few decades for the advanced.
