Hypomania is the only legitimate response

When your society is sick and your response is to fight

even if fighting is against your peaceful nature which has now become

a craven and apathetic nature

you must fight in the way your scope and compass fail

and although you are not depressed you might want to try

Getupstandup, by Pharmsupply

from: Prolabique LipLine Master-Lisp by Pharmsupply "Lipstickventory" Name Galleys 096

Pharmsupply's Prolabique LipLine Master-Lisp "Lipstickventory" Name Galleys 88rx: lipsticks 2020

• all i get is pretty
• a pinch
• blankets for teeth
• blind fury
• blowers for algernon
• blur
• Bogue R. Dit
• brank-ish
• breeder
• bubbles
• cashed bowl
• category 6
• chipotle wind
• duck-taped pepper grinder
• eyelids of the mouth
• fi'nna
• fish clamp
• go boom 
• great lakes region
• grrrainy day
• hairy
• how devastating?
• indefensible
• lawn salad
• morgue ship
• move-over ripe
• nothingburger
• ocular migraine
• pay me
• perverse motivation
• property value
• ribbon event
• salted slug
• shiny purse
• Showing Green
• slapjack
• smartass
• smoking lines
• so...
• soccer ball
• Sorn Gorn Dorn
• steak
• stitches
• sugar drift
• thin
• topless
  
• torn open
• torrid crepe
• twouldn't
• very devastating
• void
• warm roach
• when
• white on tan
• wrap
• you know, I don't? but thank you

Greatest good

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SPu59h8OrL4

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ta-F4NAVURs

Hoolie, 16, bursts out in tears while visiting his best friend's family at the Waymore D'Nuttn Homes, Southchank. It's a 19-floor aviary of blacks, with views of 16 more. They rode the potty elevator with a tough 9-yr-old Mom in Pink Tube Top. Everything strong, everything dented: steel door, bricks, dense turf. What if bees banged their tin cups on comb wire. What if no one can't leave anyone alone because he appears to share some blood. Because there are no shops tho, what you have is more valued by neighbors.

"Where I laughed and played is a hole in yor eyes."
"No, there must be love around I'm sure."

Then the boys ducked into the mother's perfumey wardrobe hollow behind a changing table and fellated each other. It was a taste of the greatest good ever, or else they'd never have gotten together.

Ruses versus Perfidy

Until we can manage a Butt Wedding, I sit outside the moonshine in the shadow of the house in the sand with the dogs. Until we can get Ass Married in matching pajama jeans, the bitches and me will turn our heads at the exact same moment when there's a noise in the bushes, and I may let out a tiny, low, preliminary "bruff," involuntary-intermittently. Until we can consecrate my Man Maidenhead, all other activity is dull and domestic-animalistic.

by Mike

Tonight is...

that's the morning birdy
like a kitten crying for a titty.
keeps chirping till it's good and sunny:
Pree-ooo. Pree-ooo.

blazing deathstar rears basically as a dot.
somehow a non-mammal goes after it like a nipple.
even though you and me can't even nod as two.
Me-you. That's brain freeze, flashbulb blindness.

Creature sounds are taken on only a la carte soup du jour by others at the zoo.
When they sync with their salvation antennae, link to their shame receptors,
Every color of lipstick could be a way to say how hip you were to suggestion.
Once cast into the tornado of a day, tonight is what men piss into showers.


Connie
"I love guys and cock and the 90's."

Krewly Taken Down

Watch this advancement. Two warriors faced off on a stage. Their movement can now be phaged into hold phase, frozen while the ages play out. In translucent view, sponsored by PharmSupply, we can appreciate organ failure up close. The passage of meals is just a faint, grainy yarn in the video yield over time. Limbs might disappear, but early on. Similar elapses have been projected over classic statuary in open climate evolves now approaching 3-4 millennia.

Special attention to facial response to slow-cook trauma makes one of our most popular "Side-B" features. With the remainder of all musculature frozen into your choice of carefully measured RoicPoze, you can watch intelligent, feeling countenance bravely ignore, laugh at, ridicule, question, rail against, pale before, scream in horror, suffer from, and finally, pathetically, surrender in dissolve to the Click of Time. And you thought life was "all about choices." Fool.

The simultaneous degradation of the individual fighters, the lively bravado going pathetically prunish at nearly the same rate in each, the temporary soaring, inspiring but ultimately crushing thumic rantalog, each one hardly even unique enough in most respects, we find, to call himself a worthy n' wholesome opponent: often it was two organisms who shared a single host tearing at their other halves, or the fruit of disparate matriarchy rolled out the same chink, but in the end they're krewly taken down just the same, system by system.


Jan Janzdaad, Lead Wiccadocca
Recreative Clinics

Qtd in: Old-School Telemetry Without Regard to Budget
PharmSupply UP, Highchank

Why aren't you some kind of freak?

Why aren't you some kind of freak? How can it be that outta-all the beautiful chicks and dudes I've seen, you strike me as sumthin reelie spesh? You fall well within the heart of the realm of attractiveness, but your exceptionality makes you particularly memorable and commands an emotional response more sweet and richer than Caramel Dream Swirl, chahl.

How can I even unnerstan your language? If your tongue is the dearest, hottest live wire ever, wouldn't the creole stink on out beyond its cipher? Wouldn't yor existence compel matter into a steamy mass of shame over centuries of labor, generations of real flesh babies whose trajected paid-fers wd always undermount the lots we'd get of creating major ideas of tiny observations?

How can it be that you would become a lier out so much farther and me so conventional while having been your Discoverer?

Phyllis in a cilice

Meanwhile, Dr. Thong has her toes spread between the railings of the brass bed in her cell. She is painting them with a q-tip from a bottle cap with a solution of urea and Pink Bismuth heated up atop the radiator.

Someone is with her: Phyllis, in a salt-and-pepper fall, natural mock cilice and denims on a folding chair. Her purple lipstick is inappropriate.

DONNA: She'd be very upset to know you were here.
PHYLLIS: But I'm a reporter. I get to be in on all the angles.
DONNA: Yeah, you put the bed in embedded.
PHYLLIS: Allz I did was sign up to express her preen gland. It took weeks to get clearance.
DONNA: As if you could step back through the Crack anyway. You can't mend two worlds with a few strands of horse-like hair.
PHYLLIS: Hmm. You noticed. [PAN FROM ONE TO THE OTHER OF HER BREASTS]
DONNA: Maybe she'll come to us. She could get me out of here.

[FLUORESCENT CEILING TUBE BUZZES AND FLICKERS]

PHYLLIS: You know Dr., time travel is a bunch of b'caca. But light beams come and go as they please. A deity can do that.
DONNA: Now you insult my sense of connectedness. Isn't it much more likely yr pal Wayne over at PharmSupply has been pumping up his experiment?
PHYLLIS: Are you saying you'd be down with RMP if it could bring back the Chama?
DONNA: I'm saying I'm a doctor and I know an evil phuck of a shrink when I smell one.
PHYLLIS: Illyn, her brother, does it the hard way. No one blames him for crawling out the Mthyuh's stinking rubble erry tam a generation almos fergets.
DONNA: You are sinking into superstition, and it's unbecoming of journalism.

the human meat bazaars

Reptily loves telling stories of her childhood in the human meat bazaars. One endearing slave's Johnson was so large he would be ordered routinely to hold it still. It held metaphornical value as a coat rack, a radiator, a spritzer bottle. By way of salutation, you'd jive, "Just don't move, daddy!" in place of [his name] or ciao. For fear of insurrection or other friction, it was gathered to be the phrase Wayne wd encounter most often. Just as cruel were the simultaneous demands for hot verbalization. Two central desires, to act and be wordless, were denied him during moments of nature's most strenuous command. This was Wayne's work and Wayne's sacrifice. Bereft of options either for civil disobedience or employment, he wd oblige the temple-step tithe monitors to collect their coins by shameful finger from deep inside his snakeskin lucre sash.

Reptily was watching with blackened eye, from bed of filthy rag, beneath a corn hooptie when Wayne finally met his ticket to the middle chanks, a kidnapped preachers' kid from Fordamall. Jan's bare-shouldered, curly-shod traffickers were scraping her encumbrance along a pinched and moldring callejón, high on a mirrored pillow. Her veil branks was fine as wisps of smoke out the nostrils; wrought-iron finch seemed to dash for liberty from the fancy, cage-like dental installation; her head was razored to crushed velvet pile. He bought her where she sat. Without hesitation, for a five-teated cull nanny and a few ribald shouts, Wayne set Jan free. Jan took Wayne home. Jan's dad bought Wayne. Now Wayne just moans. Jan can now see. Wayne is on top. Jan says, "Don't stop..."

Mass Sociopathy

Why so many zombies? Our answer lies in the widespread fear of zombieism.

You sit in the Killercoaster, tilt with the wurl. Do you dare take a sideways glance at the guy at the tip of yr axis?

Remote Tissue Decisioning needs to stop here, in this momentous space we share.

Remote Muscular Positioning seems too painful to resist. What if the operators were dead? What if a million zombies could be cured by taking a shotgun to the cameraman instead?

If everyone took a snip at the Filter of Loathing, in just an evening we could be back asleep with no one knowing. Our intimate blister would again be a universe without a crack.

Phyllis, Embedded
Sports 'n Sex Crimes Bugle

Arethusa

Missy leans her elbow on a ledge, which sends a boulder crashing down the slope. A mature sugar pine snaps at the base, nicked by a wing tip. She hangs Its face in her hands.

"I take it minorities are well advised to make a strong impression. Is it like the weakling bug who's painted a gargoyle across its papery head? Is it nature makes a swarm come when not backed off so?

Maybe naiads from a previous life rising from nerve venom come to act out, in their wisdom, and with hooks in, wriggles of memory that jar or pull shut levers and consequences that can be accepted as archetypes."

In this way, a graze prey unit outside its hoard contemplates vicariously an apology for the urge to have a bloody meal.

Atroposis

there was safety in my temple;
i was at a Command Center.

now i rely on the public oracle
dispenser. i experience Atroposis.

Th' Sisters know you've got it comin'.
You sit back and let them choose it

while you live in so many Temp-
oral Bodies. handwriting analysis

proves how easily Beggars are
turned to thieves.

Tom

Exhibit

I find that generally
people who love me
will always find a
way to love the ones I
love, but not necessarily
hate the ones I hate.
everything I touch now
apparently costs
something; every move
an Exhibit. comes
a Winter when

Comes a tam in a man's laf
when she owns up to disaster.
It created you, a monster,
one who Grips and Carries.
But the shriek of a suparna,
or its roll in sleep, can only
mean an end to an age.

Donna
"They fly with their legs spread eagle."
[Dick Olde has also provided illumination on this piece.]

Hut of Saints

Clear in the middle of the preserve sits a Hut of Saints,
Where you can go and behold figures of the Holy rising
From a species of Xmas tree wheel projector or fire log
Simulation; There goes the Admonishing Spinster: look
At me, my hagg'rd creases, take a clue! Now th' Soulful
Maiden, in habit ascending like a rocket, so benevolent;

Therz th' Chama, Reptily, the only topless one, a clayish
likeness but for her breast; Oh Chamalamalalahamacha-
lamalachamalalahamala, the living one, where you roam
is our peril and our fate, chalalalamahamalala. N' behind,
a dog sillo'ette, waving up across the tied stick and hemp
string structure singing in a Squeakin' Hula with the wind.

Employment-related

I love to tell the story of how i started working at a mortuary lipstick factory. My fren David was wondering what we were gonna do for fundz in order to keep riding the New Wave one night. How would i contribute. I said oh i'll go next door and turn a trick. Too shy, took me till closing, and the Gerente says he'll give me five bucks to sit on his face. But not before therz an ugly scene with the barkeep. "Show me what's in yr drawr," Gerente says. Bartender looks so Pissed Off, spits out his nose on the Bottle Washer. "Hand it over. Sorry, can't pay you this week. It's all Rent." Bar guy stomps out the door like a Sissy, which in fact he was.

Gerente throws a deadbolt as big as yr arm behind him, says come with me.

Upstairs on a rug in the out-of-code loft office/bedroom plywood efficiency platform, i was at first frightened i'd suffocated him until he started to snore. Then i looked over at his wallet, full of a night's take. I just poured beer on his face until he was awake, climbed down some kinda bunk bed ladder and walked out the front door with my fin.

Just because of that, because of that story and the sincerity within, i met a believer in the rehabilitation of youths who have too much fun. I'll never know his real name, but now i breathe toxic powders and work in slime as others do in fog or wind.

It's all about death at PharmSupply, Funerary Cosmetics Div. We deliver because we can, and we are. And we do. Did.

Now that i myself am Dead Physically as well as employment-related, i can say whatever i want.

Connie

false awakening

After a Plethora of Mornings that feel the same Cool Straw in the nest, Peg deserves a False Awakening. I am able to tap in, with my job in the media, to her remote decisioning conduits. I'll appear first as a Tease Report, then a feel-good piece, and finally the Signature Commentary. She'll know enough to try and open a Closed Circuit. Because she mutters in her dreams, we can touch and recommit until I Can Come.

Or will you come to collect Me, Darling? Pluck me from the World of Connectivity? I ask you, as a Long-Hair Cat filled with burrs but will only lick its Pink Bits, to wipe my Channels Free with a Single Spasm of your claws as you sweep through town.

The kidz are operating bess they can on yor governmental income. I still have blue eyes and brown skin. You could be diamond mining Africa or harvesting the next chank over, tell me love. Please Goddess indicate if you've been marching, that yor one of the ones they've scheduled for Open Release. We can pool our networking and raptor skills for a Sure Kill of the intruders. I hear they've got litcrit support now, but it's only a matter of time before love mixed with procreation will bring them down.

Yor dark clear stud,
Ted

Born Again, But Uglier

So nice to hear rock n' roll in the Lower Chanks. Someone must be amping up for an exit. A flake mohm and her baby cower in a niche. Does a hole you scratch with your fangers count as a panic room? Someone is bleeding on the strings of a real guitar. Communities open up to picaroz and needles as long as they can watch the whole project launch soon and far.

I'm here as a Missionary of Doom, but it's a good thang. We promote something like healthy recreation. As the Hereafter Looms, why not stock up on favors to the Butt Unappealing?

Illyn
"Born again-- but uglier."

Mike's Swimming Blog #80

When the Hot is on, you step into an embrace with the liquid and keep frogging or gatoring in languid ballet strokes. You have to fight going into a fetal position. In Donna's salt pool, I don't get chalky. She's been working on an autopsy in the living room. My loins feel sore for lack of Winter Stroking. Something about this environment really keeps the buttocks training. I did tri-ceps on the cement stairs holding my knees in the air just Above the Tension. Then I heard her laughing through the sliding screen door. She'd found signs of fatty liver even though it was Mostly Missing.

Cruel Prince

First he wants to
do his "martial arts"
thing, the jabs, Head
Butts; then I get
teased for Lack
of Manliness. When
I know he just
Needs to be Held.

He laid on his side
with my cat. My
fingers were shiv stained;
the two of them looked at me
like a returnee's Last Chance.
Is it the turtlenecks
that let a man say What he Wants?
Now I do His Bidding.

Illyn
"Born again-- but uglier."

My World is Shit

Now that I am in the Final
Stages, change seems dumb.
Some say there's been an
encroachment of a parallel
universe, but I fully doubt it.
It's just the ground churning
under us, belching new souls.
My world is shit because I'm old.

Once I had a game, an angle, an exit;
I was up for an ambit, didn't need to score.
Now every lit-crit babe with a publishing credit
Thinks I'm a door to the afterlife.
I can only leave maps and things;
I don't really bring much to the way I live
except my body and a knife.
My world is shit because I murdered Connie.

Missy