Dare Ye t'Come Fwd

if we could only have some beer and sing once a week, all together, not in a church
we might still get red in the face and colon cancer and divorce or throw up silver,
but there we'd be on a Frydee's eve with a steaming kidney pie and a pint of spittle.

mod child

mod child, you blame yorself
mod child, yor daisy frowns
mod child, yor invested in color
mod child, what a large belt buckle
mod child, you wear a Sears medallion
mod child, even domestic violence is mod
everything you do mod child
could be on a color tv or in space
you could be reduced to black and white dots
why can't others feel the love that you want
[and freeze]

Burnt Issue

Studies show that patriarchy was invented by women in order to give their husbands something to do peace time and to stay on track even while out plundering. Sure, mono-theism asks you to choose a parent. But which one is it? The Mthyuh while fathyuh lead a crusade? Is busy passing you thru her living tissue, chall. Yor rostrum is forged in her loin and you are her tanline. She is the hive plugger while males drone. Another commandment written on the human soul, however: that one sex is not enough. Any one gender will get cruel heady. So their worship must be binary to reap of it a nirvanic system. But since they suffer, one set of genitals in your face always. They reject a parent out of fear for security. Toss the soprano; keep the pit bull. He can't sing anyway, and she's a total bitch to those who might threaten our famly. Mthyuh: piquant going in and picaresque coming out.

BANDERILLERO

everything is, everything's so, everything is so uncertain
the blocks are akiltern; baby lizards can run out through
the cracks to play. No one to owe yor money to, but now-
here to get away. life is so upside down now lady, can you
even recognize me, yor slave? they forced a guy to strap
on horns in the ring and then banderilla'd him to a forty-
year loan. it's a W. D. when, to the bees, it's we who sting.

Naughty Somalians

When the hooded one arrives on his apple cart, steps down with a naked scythe?
When sudden death occurs there is a strong initial shock, and then healing begins. A major illness will extend the period of strong exposure and be more likely to create permanent collateral damage. Beyond length of exposure, intensity can fluctuate and climb, stressing out a worshiper's innermost marrow.

Are there any interactions or serious side effects?
Illnesses that provoke secondary expressions of violence, scatology or other dementia deepen the horror, widen the suck of the spinning drain of death. When multiple careers of morbidity overlap, especially in a close social network, death can stomp up and down, a sticking period key, a repeating decimal of dead.

Why do they keep them so long, and wouldn't it be more merciful to kill them immediately?
Well, the fact is that if push came to shove and we'd have to admit it, we kinda like having them around for as long as we can. It's like sitting on yr balls. We grow accustomed to their valiant little defiances; their quirky pronouncements and curses; their cute, spirited jabs from the sidelines. We know how under-it-all dependent they really are on our goodwill, and that makes us fuzzy.

What is your view on the abolition of Blood Sac?
It seems to keep people calm, especially the young mothers for some reason. Nobody needs to say a word, as long as we know it's happening and we can go to see for ourselves whenever we want. In fact, I hear they've been poorly attended of late. Sure, the opposition pretty much gave up after they couldn't get a retraction on the Sac they did on that what was her oh Chang K. Chang. That was because she was such a beloved living maiden that for her to "only milk Mthyuh in hell always" indicated selfishness on the part of the Preservation Society and maybe even envy slippin out some of the high preistesses while we know that's just potty. It's a controversy of the past, certainly. Today's worshiper is just bored with it. It may eventually be won by the inane above humane, as they say. It's all about cultural stewardship for me, and that's what I've shown you crossing over. I say get in my boat and I'll take you there and now here we are. Now there's someone can bring you on to the next big bend.

Tom
CEO, Pharmsupply
A Year to Another Year

Windy Mouth of Mthyuh

Looking into her, there is mostly paste of fog, not her breath. Her steam/ perspiration. There are legends that explain all that. Then over to the right is Shame of Mthyuh, where her "spittle" is released in an ever-humbling reminder of her own giddy stupor of imminence. This is a noxious mix of sulfur and molten aluminum. But then towering above, as balance, or ballast, are the famous Pride of Mthyuh, the t-chanks. They really seem to say, "I'm all that." And if you don't think so, howbouda dubba-berra? Others have posited that these chanks, like their many cousins in the region, are really the petrified guano towers of now-extinct salty lake queen cranes or monarcas d'ensalago. The last known queen was shot near the Nevada border after her dizzyingly metallic sheen and spirited aggressiveness became part of a 1950's ufo mixup.

These hovel-hived hills building gradually to reveal the truly terrifying gape of the Mthyuh Centre site are so full of history and tradition, which has almost always been a tradition of history, that history itself seems to have left its proverbial wheel ruts in the winding, postcard rack-lined stone walks. Surely the movements of these, each speckled warm litter, scarcely more than temporary stewards of this obscene rendering, by nature, of nature's own truth and who have long since been ground themselves to dust by her avenues, having taken the tinjid waters from baptismal to dethbed spongebath-- are as real now as time itself, if not more. If not more.

Hoolie Discussion Board: Hoolie Now

They go Hoolie talk again like a hymnal, some kind of Judis speaking as a pree-so holy fathyuh. He think he immortal an fit to be keen someday soon. Look like a baboon with his nipples showing drinking out of coconuts chall. What he thinkin? We all know, all the chilluns know, the bitches know, the boys know that he is trapped as the son of a holy permanently outshining shivstar. He will never be anything at all, or he will be something humble. Let's see which he choose.

Yet Nor is Oxygen Carried (Momen Foda Jung Kits)

when gender switches to the subconscious,
food coloring bleeds upside down up a cele-
ry stalk, but for a few crucial moments the
-re is acheived a rift: in that junk hitting y-
ur reason'n lorls, yet nor is oxygen carried.

The Brutal Snake Charmer

The brutal snake charmer's wife made out a shopping list:

craving
craving w/ anger
fear @night
holding breath
burning shame
tense
shame
resolve
shame
surrender
sadness
sleepy
morbid ideation
headache
craving

They danced while he scared everyone to death.

Another white woman came here, face of trajedy. I tell you I take yor trajedy an jor watch, Reptilly say. They leave der loved ones feed of Mthyuh, come back down alone, one less. They wander up a street looking for food with a credit card. They step from a cab in big sunglasses, being strong.

He sons are stammering slaves. Only she can run him. Now she become a deity and leave him broken selling hairs from her brush as souvenier.

It's not Sustainable, Grrl [The WMV]

Too complicated getting sound files to stick; here's a video you can just listen to, chall.

fourteen months oughta be a monument to something baby
you cant juss say you gonna go and quit on me now womachal
y'got two kids and it seems like yor gonna hava nervous breakdown
corporations callin ona telephone tryna makeyuh pay yo dues nau
cantcha stick witme tellwe figure ifwe gonna go brakeda banko fo-cloes

misery
and growing old
withoutchu woma i cd layme downan close my eyes dontchu see-e?
youma co-D penna docta lady fo-a cobra vacci-ine.

ponies with hats

It's not Sustainable, Grrl

fourteen months oughta be a monument to something baby
you cant juss say you gonna go and quit on me now womachal
y'got two kids and it seems like yor gonna hava nervous breakdown
corporations callin ona telephone tryna makeyuh pay yo dues nau
cantcha stick witme tellwe figure ifwe gonna go brakeda banko fo-cloes

misery
and growing old
withoutchu woma i cd layme downan close my eyes dontchu see-e?
youma co-D penna docta lady fo-a cobra vacci-ine.

Donna Thong, Donna Thong.
Doctor Donna, Doctor Thong.

Meadows and Shores

The city is entry slurry, coming in through airborne pockets or crossing land like a miserable red ant.
These peoples are processed here and sent in tubes to the bucolic-sounding lands, if ever.
They are sort of filtered through stoney brookside meadows and rolling pinewood greens.
Through glen or forestlake river valley, there are additional meadows and shores.

Finally, experience death or assimilation into desert religious sects.
We beg the greening of a septic vision, and we find daisies crawling screaming from each straw end.

--anonymous bullcrap

Juniper Dreams of Being an Urban Human

Bread and meat with gravy over it is all you need. Thick ground black pepper or even the powder in a tornado from a stainless and glass shaker, deep-fried pork tenderloin and crispy cottage fries with lots of smooth creamy brown gravy on mashed can get you make you stare at the cashier on the phone while yor waiting or corner-eyeing the street crowd in the picture winda at yor booth. Someone could pound on the glass or squat and pee there without being noticed much. All you care to care about right now is your ice water and napkin. You dive into the crunchy mess when it comes with both hands and all of your attention. It's treating both sides of your brain to the attitude of a chef who can hate staying these long hours and make you insultingly decent chow like what, you can't do this at home? You chew and think how you want to come back again and again and will tip the waitress well, for every decade another dollar, and she dresses more like a movie star. You picture the manager and a pig and a frier, the cook and the freezer supplier in an internecine sqabble that ends in feasting and gobbling crunchy globs of hot, greasy snow.

OX

Silently, Babe the Blue Ox stands painted blue,
wrinkles of rippled paintovers. I knew a sales-
lady like that in the Loop, Bunny. Her perfume
smelled like brownies, and her brownies smelled
like perfume. Babe saw no one like her, if she had
been alive, passing by for 30, 60 years. These w-
ere wholesome meaning not urban families. The-
yd already had a good dinner at home and show-
ed up from less than a day's drive away, or wer-
e from some other town where they could get t-
he same and had taken advantage of one of the
typical family-owned road cafes. Babe had noth-
ing to do with advertising meat, no more than P
-aul, anyway. There was no mostly frozen steak
restraunt there at their feet-- only a parking l-
ot and a big antique cage. This was a turist spot
where one could pick ones teeth with pine trees.

Already Dead

This, then, is the tomb of granite and
stainless steel I signed up for with my
Sears card. At 33%, I find the televis-
ion is less distracting on a higher volu
-me since I don't have to strain to he-
ar between the product chanting. I fin
-d my favorite shows don't even requ
-ire video and I can listen while not m
-opping floors or working out. This is
my way to spin, only my fingers mov
-ing to speak, and even then reluctan
-tly. I can do impressions of the anno
uncers. My dogs don't chime in, but t-
-hey are kind enough. Sometimes, I'll
peer over the screen at the front win-
dow. so many insincerities on the air-
waves. i flop back and forth in betwe-
en vigilance and. my whole brain is c-
hecked out, except for that part that a
-llows me to speak. When yor ded, go-
ing to sleep seem like a challish game.

dull leather bell

yung wombmate, yu must forgive me
for i contact you only once on a manic
mission, once eighty fortnights. when
i come up for air, i scream back thru t
-he ages, and there you are, the same
flowered grrl. sometimes i have not e-
ven grown a year since i saw you ther
-e. only layers of shame and emprison
-ment blanket me from your hair and
flowing skirts and love, which i also h-
ave memories of in nearly half a cent-
ury slogging toward a dull leather bell.

MO-TOWN UBER ALLES

Ted'd followed some man who'd already ditched him to a communist rally in the dead of 1980 winter Detroit. Jammed in a boxy downtown gymnasium, he watched a hairy gal on a platform rant and rave until he felt he needed a drink. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOUR CREDENTIALS?" he screamed.

The speaker, stunned, actually answered. "Why, I am JoAnne Studebaker and I am the Director General of the WSBI GMC [Greater Motor City]. It was clear they were all under three feet of snow, it was crowded and warm, no one was getting out until the thing was at an end, and even then at risk of trampling or fros-titty. During the blizzardy 8-hour trans-industrial tour from Mai-Kaina in an unheated car, Peggy found she could break off a hunk of her freshly shampooed hair like a fibrous herbal popsicle.

Later that night in a Group Apartment full of filing cabinets and armoirs, one or two Workers or Students with a blanket, a Mexican poncho or a polyester sleeping bag were situated roughly parallel, every few feet, as in a slave ship or graveyard. There was no smell of marijuana or drink, just lesbian tea.

Ted always felt they had been sent by someone, possibly Comrade Studebaker herself. They came and settled next to him easily after everyone had quieted down and the lights had been dimmed, as before a naked photo-op. He'd been granted a wide perimeter.

He felt their thudding behind him on the bare wood floor through the nylon that wrapped his clothes that sheathed his body, and there were sickly goosebumps on his back. They seemed to be slithering in and out of one another's sack. Then there were wet clicking and smacking noises, strange aggressive giggling.

The proverbial Sventlana and Judith had really shown him who was in charge of that political landscape. All the guests at the crash pad were polite and hushed. It occurred to Ted that these maybe were just spoiled ivy league kids with a denim and bandana fetish.

Peggy and he her own twin brother had still never met. Even in the womb they had been a hot throbbing membrane apart, jus' two pieces o' pie from the same automat, ass to ass.

Where was she nau? Where was she when he needed her not only to be but to be there and not only to be there but to be a woman?

Man Claims Hindu God Appeared In Plant Form

Man Claims Hindu God Appeared in Plant Form

Morning Edition, October 23, 2008 · A New York City man is convinced the elephant-headed Hindu god Ganesh appeared to him in his backyard as a purple flower.

The 4-foot-tall plant sprouted up between concrete slabs in Sam Lal's yard in Queens. He says the plant began to resemble an elephant's head and trunk. Lal, a Hindu, told the New York Daily News that the plant has healed his back pain.

"They say God comes in many forms. I figure this has taken the form of a plant to come into my yard and bless me," he said.

Yor a Real Woman Hooze Godlike

i say yor better than a deity only because
your a hero to me, realy, and in fact yora
real woman hooze godlike. Yor dignity and
grace in pain is a sign of yor jawbreaking s
-oul. Yor grace in pain is a sign u are bold.

the cheesy milk hags of a baby's unbaptized cravings

Now these bitches take up huge branches in the architecture of our minds and even reach somehow into the visceral, archetypal regions. They reign as they reek across centuries. They are the cheesy milk hags of a baby's unbaptized cravings; later, you can't see the future at all, and you can only even imagine it if you are looking into their widened pupils in the dark. They will nip at your calves until you use them for good. They beseech yor best impulse of the loin. They chatter their teeth as if to murmer or mock yor jaw wagging. These stinky girls with big butts can only offer you tongueloads of saliva and to fill yor gut. What if there were two!

Guide me Ho-ma

guide me home woman
guide me to prayer-o

wenna wirl-o manso stron
ma-needa woma company.

walk me thru this bigole
neighborhood, fo-I go grrl.

gai me hom-a nau woma
stop an pray-yay witme.

then we can catch a show
or lounge about ata bar-o.

guide me home woman
gai me to pray-yayer-o.

All about the Chilluns

The Sacrament of Blood was a loving rite, and everyone agreed about that cep f'the po muthya fo who they end up serving your kids for deena. It draws us together at this lean time of year and reassures us about our values: s'really all about the chilluns, idnit? We a famly, and this is a way i can give back to them every year. They hongry. We share in the joy and the bounty with all of our favorite neighbors and family members. Our co-worshippers. You allow us to see ourselves in God's own perpective: those who are not you. So, Hoolie: we congratulate you for this honor we are about to feed you on behalf of da Mthyah. She is soothed in your pain. We will sing along to it so you know that we are with you. That our love is with you, Hoolima. Ho-Hoolima, hoo-loo-loo-li-li-ma-ma.

1 hour. hoolie screaming
1 moment. steel blades sliding
baby crying
crowds erupting, cutlry
place settings slammed down
like an uptown diner, echo;
some famly members
understandibly disconsolate
in the counseling chamber.

Waste Box

What he'd wanted to convey folded all up in on itself like a credit security, a dimly glowering cardboard box.

Only Problem is they Torture You

Peggy held one wrist with the other hand to steady the shakiness. Every movement weight shift was a conscious embracing of searing, crippling pain. She could only smile if she remembered that in WD066, she had been cut off by a shopping box at the shivmart and wished just a fraction of her pain on the infractor. The pusher, a large man, died almost immediately with agonies. They made a cement pill for Mthyuh of him.

Peggy have incennive as well as desire. She got to go, go on. For one, she always itchy down there. Peggy like, "This is bullshit. Gemme a man down here." She only wanna drink and fuck. But she a deity, and so it goes, you gotta suave it on your streetcorner crew, take personal interviews, not too many speeches, live in a graciousness safely above the minimum mark for a milk slave of Mthyuh.

Ceremonies. That the main job of a milkuh. And they caint be cynical cuz when you do-- ooo watch it grrlz. You must believe it baby or you suffer so bad. You wouldn't burden your own family with dangerous knowledge, rational doubts, so why do that to yourself either. Under pressure, you'll have no idea, you won't be a fink. Only problem is they torture you.

Sinewy [the Mp3]

sinewy

sinewy bitch prad chal!

I Heart Peggy [the Mp3]

I Heart Peggy [the Mp3]

I Heart Peggy

peggy i always new you were mai fren
because you left your kids, two of them
to seek after spiritual enlightenment, you
know? fuck them! because you knew that
their pain
would carry them back. their pain would
carry them, carry them into yor arms again.

faiwere on my det bed
i dlet you guide me
I do anything you say

you, woman, are from a-
nother wurl, and i cannot
fine you less i take yr wor

you can santify me woma
only you can see me thrua
horra show, when ahm touch-an-go

She Gotta Bigole Heyud

Wachit grrls! She gotta bigole heyud.
an she gonna licki. She piss her own
daughter' beyud. Grrowl, piss, licki,
spread, she a bitchona water beyud,
were whichit could git sticky, freyun.

Gedditfaidit [the Mp3]

Pulled by the MPS.

Gedditfaidit

you try to get a little exercise
we put a liddle uh in the walk, babi
we no longa walk across town or up
and down and up the staircase of the
big city laif we chillin in suburbs in
the lakeside or fireside or rurl-militry
industrial chal, we got the firey crops
and jetting blue studs with their gleeming
sex appeal and rubber and steel, we got
greens and beets and subtle kill, beef,
cockatiel and swan, sparrows, cranes,
ptero-dactyls, reefer, guano, beans and
elevators, but only for grain, escalators
that feed poisons and metal to your brain
through every cavity we got the mill but it
aint for gaining strenth, if you get ill
you can try to catch yer breath waiting in
line with the wretched millions bleating to
break free from whut, mexico, bulgaria,
illinois and Pee, Wisconsin. we gotchur
brefass rolled up ina puffed up corn tor-
tilla ana cyanide wafer, movie stars in
hum vees an lemonade vests ducking into
the trailer half the day traina rest wal
da extras stay out na heat practicing they
no lines at all, practicing being: in lines,
not having: lines but just standing, extra-
like ina shadow of a trailer, not evena
trash-level environment by Mercan standers.

Chamatilly Begin da Volca

songs are prayers;
prayers are shit;
shit is gold;
what of it?

oaths are prayers;
prayers are bold;
cowards lie,
or so we're told.

God is dumb;
Dumb is loud;
Can love speak
In a crowd?

Push is shove;
God's above;
or if he's nuts,
fire will bless us.

Sinewy

Folks that surround Chamatilly, they all seem to know what she don't know. She a toe-cher awda tam. She's thinking it all part of the ceremonies and whatnot. It ain't. They just a laikit, laikit alot. Tor-cher Chamatilly. Thats why she so lucki. Being a shivstar, we wershup you chama, you biggie awda tam. Chamatilly aways in pain because she so ignorant. The Muthya Preservation Society even know boudit. The Community College of Cement know. The chilluns an the bitches know. It's a secret a bit from the Chama, but not so much. She so scared cuz she never thot she deserve a be a deity or a slave to da shiv, on the spot to milk the Mthyuh at the momen notice. She half 2B prepare, ahways. So she ahways givin up da ego to da shiv and thats so paynfl cuz she nothin much modan ego and sinewy bitch prad chal. She so fight it so she cn geddit, fighdit, geddit, etc.

Chamatilly Feel Crazy

Chamatilly feel crazy like it awl cumin 2 to an n.
They harrd all th' old shivlords, ones not sent to
prison, the torchrrrs. Gave them the job of call
-ing up folks on the phone saying you can make
it stop, only you can, any time. And jo mimimm
paymen eeyus: whatever. You can make it stop,
only you chamatilly an until theyun, we call you,
we call you woma ever naughtier laf. All nait lone
woma. We call you call you. Weda shivlords n we
gotchors baby. Chamatilly shake and sweat, turn
over. With the other ear exposed, she could hear
them writing letters. We know you in trubble cha
-l. don dowdit: we rspechu grrl chal. Yu beta pay.

Then sum wicked clerk walk up to a guy in a bar. Step right on his foot, with all he weight. Say mista. Hear you gotta anger prolm.

Well da udda say: I, well I, huh, uh, woe! say...uh.. you on my foot buddie.

An da clerk go, "Uh... idaynt yo foot. It belong to da Lo', bitch."

Chamatilly all ooo i aint even gotta foot dees daze ooo mami whaidai evuh evuh become a damn deity yall sheeyut. [etc.]

Rep-a-tily Livin' Room T'Nite

From terror to horror and
back to terror again, with
hot flushes of shame in bet
-ween. The fire shows a w-
all of water only eight feet
high, but it keeps on comi-
ng for thirty minutes. all r
hugging, scrambling up po-
les, not screaming OMG! n
-ow we can time it with a s
-top watch; then, you cou-
ld only stare, as if under th
-e spell of a venom, or cry.

Peggy Heard disinda Prizun Red Crescent Ward

They's all med wards. You in a ward you on meds. You a nurse you on meds. You a live you even dead you on meds. They checkin my pulse and my powers, all strapped down in a bed. The guns in green come in they say Correctional Officers, as in Correct-Ol, the laxative. They four hours sayin: mmm Jimenez waintcha geddus a peetsa. Mmm I cd go frwun. He say he a magician. It aint comin out. We hada pikim up frm Contraband Watch, no he wuzzina cell. Non-responsive. They say if he gonna lee-of, they gotta giv him da opa-shiv. Da only one ken lift da opa. Doc comes in an sez "iss unfortunate dahling but I've got to save you. It's my damn job." This man is a spoilt, the prisoner who ate contra-shiv and has to get it out in a bucket with guards and docs and clerks on overtime. Day say one broke all up inim. An if is condums, iz ownlee a manner of tam. They standing four hours waiting, I am in normal torture they have me now in a rack. other side o the curtain they saying what about the cubs. whut about da mets. fuck them they waiting for that bitch to shit out her cocaine? tax payer dolla make huh lisp an ask for a tube down her throat cuz she don't like da frooty tase of da lixuid aquative. Hunerd thousan dolla fora nurse an some bitches to surroun dis sociopat wit tits an ass an kindrids? It jus be gonna shoodout day say. It'll shoodout. An we'll have to cleenit. Iaint cleeninit. But itl b evi-dence. Shia, I ain cleeninit.

Only Exercise we Get

it may also seem paranoid that we
always running to the window if w-
e hear a sound on the street, other
dogs barking, any plastic tires be t-
hey on a Big Stone or the waste bo-
x. but I realize now it's all the exer-
cise me and the bitches get. unless
i run around in circles and letem ni-
p at my ankles in a useless frenzy,
we all sitting down or loungin out b-
ig time. we can hear that life is blo-
somming everywhere, and in burs-
ts, occasionally, right in the framey
ovda livinroom winda. weird grainy
film of an era, average people, on a
street. Through the polyshiv lace c
-urtain. while we? whose recordin-
g it? get this, bitches: if they try a-
nythin? you bite. they'll member it.

Grrl I Feel it's Time to Move it Uppi [the Mp3]

this is a good ver.

Grrl it's Time to Move that Thang on Uppy [the Mp3]

Grrl it's Time to Move that Thang on Uppy

Grrl Jus Moov that Biggi Thang on Uppy

Grrl I feel it's time
to moov that biggi
thang on uppy. Jus
moovit grrl. Moovit.
Moov that biggy grl
that thang on uppy.

Time to move along
no story here to tell
woman. Jus yo biggi
on da mappi blockin
awda traffik grrl yal.
You got to move grl
go on moov dat napi
thang......................

Grrl I feel it is time
to moov that nappi
thang on uppy. Jus
moovit grrl. Moovit.
Moov it on uppy grl,
dat thang is nappina
woma chal..............

Flipping Bacon Naked

Meat turn three taiymes
d'mo likely da burnya bb.
mai verge day cn be prr-
deen tinse, th'out no hep
frm th'nvirenmnt. yo be-
ss ment wurds? only mk
me frgitcha waleye focus
own cookin brefuss chall.

Rage Laid Bare Month

THIS IS THE MONTH OF RAGE LAID BARE

Hoolie Discussion Board: Month of the Tranny

Hoolie comes up to me, "yeah i've let down or gotten in fights with all my friends now, so maybe they'll finally leave me alone so i can drink and fuck. which is my natural state."

You know as well as I he'll start missing the fighting part soon. Any updates?
----------------------

yeah as a matter of fak miss thang storms in for the weekend snapping left and right like he's all that, the shaving kit all over th'bathroom and the lighter, squares, cenicero set on the poolside stonette. i'm like yeah just think of me as some homeless chick who hangs out in yor place and you just tolerate. he say yeah i already do bitch.

K's Rule my Emotion Sickness

Reptily because she developed the incompatibility early on before her shivpowers were implanted against the K-Names her force shield would now remain up always, even though the K's were again taking blood with the local alliance.

"Even standing facing one o' them full on, I feel a nauseation. I have to turn away and pull feathers over me."

Prepping now for Volca, only a few months away, unsettled matters become a concern. But then what wud scarification rites be without a scar. She shuddered thinking of the letter and where it would be place.

Fallen Woman

Name: Chama Tilly
Current Occupation, If Any: Ruler of Night
Duties: I rule the night.
Explain: I rule, as in ruler. I remain conscious while others slumber. I am there to witness the full measure of darkness.
Position Sought: fallen woman

government holiday

why as the days shorten
they are such an effort
to get to the end of

i, an individule
have many jobs to do
clean planet save wal street

stop warming save petrol
spare others around me
from those who'r not so cool...

Mikes's Swimming Blog, Day 90-bouts

Tonight I only waded. I could be a tranny, depending on your definition.

Dog Makes a Connection

Dog makes a connection with master, master favors dog, dog understands to fight off all others. This is a fascinating and suckling thing for an animal. It is a game and life at once in a grub bowl.
For the master, he sees the specialness of the animal: her tits. She must be suckling so she hong-
ri enough to do anything and guard the dam house. If she doesn't eat the ganado, she is top bitch.

"Ingesting Resources and Giving Back on the Community"

Sylvia comes home puts on some spooky music and stares into a candle.
This is the me that i am; ingest me Mthyuh so that no more may suffer.
Yalalahalala. Ya [etc.]
Have we not fed you our poor our most outspoken. Yahalalalahalala. [etc.]
They who want to live no more, we let you have them Muhalalalahuthyuh. [etc]
[etc.] Then you spit them back up on our Welcome stone: nuf of the Othyuh, Muthyuh.

Nothing can Fill my Hole

I come home to my fabulous faux-renaissance palace and hover over my persian carpets in the opium den listening to my favorite ragas. My four fabulous akitausies file in, strutting their glammy beauty and leaving a genuine fur-rug trail behind wherever they step, smiling their adoration. I glide out to my multi-tiered pool with fountains, really more like a water park. Here I bob as a rubber duckling in the falls and whirls. Later, for dinner: all the delicacies that the local ShivMart can provide. My mother? Although living here on plant and does cramp my style, adoring and willing to commit crimes to retain my favor. Then why... why the hole? It's a hole and it's the size o' Texas, right here... [Chamatilly indicated a large oval area between her groin and sternum by drawing an invisible egg shape with the tip of her finger. The hole came all the way up under her breasts]. It seems that nothing, nothing can fill my hole. This hole, priusnear the size o' Texas, is all up inside of me.

Envy of Sociopathy

like a clothespin on yr nip,
fine remorse and guilt rip
all up on through to yr sp-
ine. when you kis me on d'
liups, we lookinat so mini
owrza feelingud witu chile

Look, Girls: Get it?

Look, girls: Get it?
Some will say that you are uninformed (they will freakishly pronounce it "on-informed").
Others will say that you are confused. HUH?!?
Still others cite mental illness.

Does a third of each make one in three? I don't think so, honey!

Stick to your "guns" babes! You so rock!

Hoist'em and keep breathing!

A stitch in time say sutured poison don't run!

Pegyuh is the whirl, chile!

Find Someone Who...

is a drama queen.
likes red punch for the lipstain effect.
exaggerates, and whose nipples are erect.
bugs their eyes at you obscenely.
rolls their eyes in digust while making a drink.
is every moment conscious of their hairs.
is always sniffing at the air like a sacked fish.
wears a ladies' perfume so sweet as to induce diarrheas.
is FABULOUS!

Drag Ball Announcement

"Remove body hair unless you're keeping it as part of your act."

"Tease back without being mean, come up with a smart response that is slightly catty but won't get you labeled as a "bitch"."

E-How

Bitchy Community

if you are wearing a wig that's totally straight
and natural baby so it won't melt in contact
with a square, just maybe fizzle, and you can
let it fly, "we don't have time to be in line. we
bitches. we need men now, we don't think any-
much else is funnie. we bitches cuz we've our
freedom and we prettie pissed aboudit," al-
ways standing in a slak circle smoking and
pointing rocked back on one long boot heel.
i am making a stand here near a gutter to say
look, it idn't right. and she's in there (pointing
out) and i'm out here (pointing down) after..."
whatever. then all the sudden they laughing,
they laughing, wild, start scratching each
other tops and poolin hair. they exhausted act-
ing animals that way, leanback on a public
bench giving each udda da dubba-berrl out
f'm undah dey skirts o' dresses. "u a slag."

There'll be no Ascending or De-Escalating

[advice to stripper continues during alcoholic blackout]

And hi, then ok, and you know today's my birthday. In-fak it's been my birthday all month. Yes I celebrate it more every day. I think I'm going for a record, yeah. And it'll be a different year every day, but there'l be no ascending or de-escalating. Same manic pace all the time man. You wanna piece? Of this party? [etc.]

Trannie Month, Day 3

"Tryna rince a ho-lotta swole-up kibble dow-ntha spose-all!"

Here I felt like a Georgie-girl in her new Bronx apartment. There is a scrappy rat terrier whose she feedin big pyreena chunks and each one is a biscuit t'him. She has a curly style could withstan several days partying if you keep it combed out n'spraid. So da curlz just be bob-een inna sank while she rince da dish. So, she keep it casual dat way an: reeyul.

On the mas-que lynne side, i cd be a peasant farmer and loaf of bread in dego-t swatting flies angerly at da rustic table, the one where he's really losing it. Good thang female side, from her tray-nang can do some clee-nup an doe-ne-vuh free-kout whan thangs start t'geuh-tang stee-yuf.

September: Month of Tranz Mission

Trannies and tran-sex is Tran-Zendnt.

"Sorry": Bitchiness is Part of My Culture

if you wunna take seven yeer yo
roll fo to figgr out: you ged-it, you
ennup evvy tam az da bee-yawtch.
I am tayking it all f'm u-soze I cn
keep it rill. min, I aina gennlmin.

"I'm a Man and a Woman, Too": Pegyah Now

Read up on sexy Peggy Yuah: ageless New-Age eccentric say she don't have any gender identity to prove... or hide.

Q: Peg, may I...

A: Of course, Donna.

Q: Peg, you've been picked on and panned for your free-roaming gender-benders at the cost of our society. How do you respond?

A: I think that I've got even more man in me than most of my Knowers would reflexively attribute. Gender? I see me as a liberated man more than a hot, modern woman. At home with his masculinity: it's his skin and he's wearing it. Not pasting on cardboard eyelashes and playing Vegas. I'm me with a pussy, and I'm me with a dick. Just so happens I've got one... or the other. And I feel good about that.

Q: This has been Dr. Donna Thong and I think just about everyone's favorite ritual goddess, Peg. The Pegyah! Give it up.

My Advice to a Stripper on his First Night, 8/20/08, San Fernando Valley

I hear you've been in training, it's your first night, congratulations.
And I hear what you're trainer is telling you, and I might just add
that: to let yourself move to the music, to let the music move you.
I mean I realize there's a certain set of motions you've got to set o-
ff to get your body moving and the right parts of it and that's okay
but sooner or later every dancer is going to develop his own perso-
nal sense of style. And the good thing is we like your bodies so it d-
oesn't matter at all. Do you love the Pegyuh? Ga-halala-la. Lalaha.

Do Not Forth Call Pegyuh

The darkest beacon is most powerful for it sucks. Dark beacon need not call; beacon, a dark one, just pool you in. Muhalala-beacon. Muhlala-lalahala-lala-lahalala-beacon.

Come, Flesh

Peggy had a lucid moment while crying and grabbed for the camera. She placed the orange-faced, puffy, actual tears falling pic on a swinging singles' site she'd been frequenting. There was no answer, no comment, but that seemed to be the best of outcomes. It was meant to be stunning, not icebreaking. She hoped it had killed everyone just for a sec. That would explain a lull, an angel passing over, but not this total banishment from the play sand. Then she guessed that whatever good the photo had done her fellow shivhole lurkers spiritually, the effect had priusnear reached its peak. And she needed now once again to attract flesh towards her.

I Had Nothing

La mort ou chichi

La mort ou chichi

[please note]

Please Note:
Many of these entries should be encountered with the background of a thudding, bumping beat. Damn if you dint tip the muthuhfo-cow fitty dolla fo he letchew be da DJ!

Once in a Hole

Once in a hole the ancients used to pass drugs through to the next cavern, I heard the ritzy neighbor lady screaming, wife of a famous author, not really screaming but loudly, loudly speaking: "What a bunch of shit, honey. Well. That's... what a lot of shit, darling." I believe she was speaking to her daughter, who could not match her volume. It occurred to me how that kind of feedback could have been helpful to one in a place, at a time.

Dehumanization by Corporate Decree

The front-line shivic reps are often culled from the lower socio-economic levels. They are fine for convincing their own compatriots in their own jargon to submit to the policies and behavior of PharmSupply. Then it goes on to Supervisor I, who is often just a custie-serv who has been able to weather worshiper abuse for longer than any of her colleagues and can be counted upon for her pleasant and determined contempt for the caller crossed with a very effective vocal and rhetorical method of inflicting maximum pain while leaving no visible marks whatsoever.

The highest level reps are cool-- people you wouldn't mind hanging out with or at least wouldn't have a panic attack over if you were stuck with them in a buffet line at the stone of a mutual friend, for example. And you are more likely to be kind and considerate toward them because it is all the more likely that these persons actually are acquainted with someone that you know personally, or at the very least that they would most likely be worthy opponents were the dispute ever to reach the level of Blood Sacrament.

Today's Reps on Profile:

Marco 622703
I imagined a weekend trip with his hairy open shirt.

Janine 622998
She seemed to have had a couple of kids at home and everyone else was the enemy.

Kitty 621783
Once, she had broken men's wills and hearts.

Boots 622419
Could have had most of the necessary tools for bike repair in his basement. My best guess is white cotton briefs and tube socks.

Alan 621067
Should be running it, but can't stop flaming.

Tinky 622350
Intern of Custie-Shiv: Breath of strong wheaty-sulfur opening, rotted lawn clippings with dog crap notes. Nickname: "La Chi Chi"

The Void Has Ears and Eyes

"Mindfullness" (where did it come from?) is a powerful, maybe the most powerful tool.
But while not so, why not shout into a chasm (into which anyone could be listening but
more likely than not no one is, which is also reassuring). Life is bitter without consciou-
sness, chile.

Thanks to God There's Something Uncommissioned by My Dominion

Thank God There's Something Uncommissioned by My Dominion.
There are free lands to ore and sow, where I encourage you to go.
While not outcast, you see, your state is remote and unprotected.
I can then fairly and humbly reason that I too am beholden to Her.

Crap of Tom

I sort of already get it about kids.
It's a mystery solved for me.
They don't
fascinate me.
I'm looking
here his chin jutted back over his shoulder and his eyes looked behind him, but to a place that signified "ahead" or "beyond."
I'm looking thata way. Someone has to.
That's a load of crap, answered Sylvia.

Curly Shoes

Chamatilly's living room had a vaulted, no a cloistered ceiling, faux-Spanish Renaissance, with tiny, wanton, dizzying metallic tiles lining the walls up to the break-- its peak was not unlike an elaborate desert tent for some sheik.

She sat on a tooled leather pillow-mattress, hovering just centimeters above the rug.

"Kali goddess o' destruction really doesn't know what she's talking about. And did you hear her tell me to shut up? I don't have time for that."

Chamatilly's shoes were woven by imprisoned thieves so as to send money home to their families. They were what we might call "wicker" shoes that curl up priusnear comically at the toes.

Hoolie Discussion Board

Hoolie was standing under a spotlight because he had gradually drifted toward it subconsciously and then stopped under it because of the warm feeling on the top of his head. But then he was asking someone something and he realized instinctively that the hooded bone structure of his skull could cast a frightening shadow. The quickest save was to look directly upward suddenly and let the hot light bathe his entire face. Well that someone was me and I'm telling you that I could see the outline of his whole cranium where it shone in through the eyelids. And there was something else in there.

ratty charm bracelet

tho the lunar light is at 2/3
looking in the water, it is
the clearest night: circles in
a pool become nervous lie
detector/ earthquake met-
er/ voice graph checkerbo-
ard, the bottom being solid
bright with these lines: for
today we dragged a hangar
loop across the top after a
wind and collected a hum-
mer nest of dog hair and
cobweb, a witchy pod with
triangular black seeds, wa-
sps and bees, human oils
and peel, the clear wrapp-
er off a tongue depressor,
and leaves, bracts of bou-
ganvilla rotted clear into
skeleton and transparency.

Mike's Swimming Blog, Day 66: I am Keeping this House Alive

try locking your ankles together in the deep end;
see what you naturally do to survive. dancing yor
way out of a situation can save your life if it is sw-
imming. notice also that as you merman yor way
to safety, you swim like a fish, but flap yor arms
like a bony bird-reptile. preservation society helic-
opters could mistake you for a flying reptilian bird
entering our space from a watery third dimension.

A Watched Bitch is Free

If you go out with them the dogs will romp and play-- there's plenty of space in the back yard.
If you are inside though inside they'll stay-- you'll be walking on them and them on each other.
If you come in and lock them out they'll just sit and stand around by the door and cry and fight.
If they stay inside too long by the same token they get restless and too rowdy with each other.
So to them freedom is two things: not any enclosed space and mostly free when you are there.

crap of paper

entered voluntarily, but then they
tles all say Pharm-Supply. Whut??
f here! If the Legend of Pegyuh is
ed box shd do it.

Four HMen of W.D.

Pippi: noble, sensitive
La La: loud girl
M'Lady: soft as Charmin
Juniper: pill-like berries

Raspberry Gale

The Winds Tavern
18 Idylwilde Wy
Sawkitu, ME
69696-9000

a month, a year

Devil,

I hope you'll understand that when I first saw your freckly face and that one eye that's half blue I just knew that I'd have to make you my boy in a bubble. We scooted you along thru the Underground Subway from safe house to safe house to safe house. You didn't get no other kinds a house.

Got it! Just snagged me one o' them funny purple birds-- comin right at me. Just 'cause I said Devil. You save my life, baby: every time I say your name.

Now, don't get me started!
Peg

Devil

So you see, Hoolie: for westerners having something, someone around you can call "Devil" is a good thing because whenever you say the name you must also, at some level of consciousness, consider all the ways that evil might exist right then and there, in that time and place, so that you can take measures to banish any trace of it. Sometimes it is everywhere except inside its namesake. Your mother named you "Devil" so that you could help her: by being so precious that any bad nearby would flush immediately to the surface in boldly contrasting relief throughout her realm of senses whenever she called your name. Additionally, you weren't supposed to turn out ignorant.

Christ Never Got Duped

Someone who knew all along,
or just good at accepting?

He knew 'cause his Father knew,
and They was like One even

tho the Father made the Plans.
Son always had to check in.

There was no way to lead but
to humiliate Himself

before a tired Public.
Disciples often said hey,

take it easy Pal. At least
we all know how this one ends.

Peggy: Notes on an Encarn-ceration

I stick around only out of spite for the world. It's done pushed me back, forth, and around all these years. It's prodded me out onto a limb just to watch me dance off a precipice; fool that I am, proud flaming nar-sistuhs. It's told me to take a hike or soak my head a while-- it didn't care. It led me to believe, and then to doubt-- doubting, hating, exploiting, contemptifying; I learned them all from you, indifferent planet!

Now I must be your surrogate to the masses. Each of my hands hypnotizes while cupping a fresh shape o' misery. All of the symbols dipping and changing course all at once compel in a fashion dance, writhing. Heads bob with the undulations of my arms as eyes follow one, then the other, and another, and another, and so on like musical notes striking a bar. My devotees writhe because they watch and dance because they see all of their miseries safely cradled each in a different one of my palms. They cannot take away their eyes.

Notes: a) when I run into them later on, they seem resentful; and b) just because someone is in jail doesn't mean they can't run into folks.

Grrl, I Wanna Dance with You! [the Mp3]

Grrl, I Wanna Dance with You!

This desmadre has been removed by the Mthyuh Preservation Society.

Mike's Swimming Blog, Day 7: Disaster Hits Smalltown America

I imagine that I have to swim across a river a few times a week; it keeps me fit, for it's all I do with my body, to grievingly admit.

There are floating varieties of orchid and snapdragon caps
I shimmy across the surface or arc deep, but my sinus
in those instances could be affected.

I pass back and forth with the virility of water
and I pump this life to the bone.

I imagine I am something like the boatman
on the Styx river: a conning Jim or Heather
who can no longer get a loan.

Grrl, I Wanna Dance with You!

grrl, I wanna dance with you!

summertime is here and you have
had your operation; your thighs and
tits are just where they belong.

staples are coming out, soon!
you'll have some extra vico-
dan, chile!

step out with me, girl! woma-
baby chile luvah! let's step
to the music naow...

dittle deat! deat!
oo-mah.... mah-ooh...
babah da dahnt

duh... duh duh duh
step to the mew-zak
chile!

Manual Agent

Sylvia sometimes felt like nothing more than a manual agent. She had no connections with the higher ups at Pharm-Supply. She only had contact with a member, so to speak. She wondered, as she was meeting his most basic needs, if she would ever become a distributor. Tom held onto his stash with remarkable determination, however, so Sylvia strained priuslong and only wanted sleep.

Assphault Mau-ng

All wannabe Makers will undergo an extensive and sometimes admittedly fatal skin graft with their Partner Maker. You must sign over your rights to privacy and to any resulting chiles. Get your head stamp now to avoid more white tape. You will then be hauled up on an assphalt mau-ng an' showed off as a normality. Others, summa whom will be non-eligibles, might try to shout their praises or dissent or even kill. This will prove your luckiness.

Time is a Liar

Tom thought he might have mono [nucleosis]. His emotions seemed to have escaped from his nervous system/soul/whatever into the physical organ. "Everyone's trapped in a capsule," he theorized. It's comforting when you think the odds are against you. To remember that we are all the unhatched eggs of Mthyuh. Everyone has to see out their eyes and hear with their ears and digest their own food. Everyone has to dread getting in the shower some days because you don't know what you'll see next.

Wish I was Sinning Now

if a graft's so important
then we should certainly be
allowed to go through with the
vaows.

and if it's not so import-
ant then all the more reason
for whats the big deal after
all?

Do you think I should be gel-
ded or walk the earth without
any balls? If you were me,
wha..?

tell me celibacy is
a grand gift from our maker;
to spit in His face is too
raw.

The only exception would
be life as a sinner, but
that takes a lot out of you,
ah...

cut me slack on this one; I
just want some fun 'fore I go!
I wish I was sinning right
naow!

Mike's Dogs

Three are quietly going mad for
lack of purpose.
One is so needy and questioning;
Four are hurdling forward
on our planet's surface
in Ted's back yard.

I Saw my Own Wretched Shadow

on a wall,
in a head-
light und-
er an arc,
it seemed
clawed n'
scragglin.

gas baby

do you see this
stomach which
is relatively flat
right now? will
you please rem-
ember it tomor-
row when it's dis-
tended and bloat-
ed?

Disturbing, Naughty, Charming

c. to show the governess that he can be “bad.”

__6. The governess, upon hearing Miles’s confession, calls what he has done

a. “disturbing.”

b. “naughty.”

c. “charming.”

5 Significant Quotations

Explain the importance of each of these quotations.

1. “I had made her a receptacle of lurid things […].”

2. “[…]Who would ever absolve me, who would consent that I should go unhung, if […] I were the first to introduce into our perfect intercourse an element so dire?”

3. “If I tell you why, will you understand?”

4. “It was practically the end of everything.”

It Adds Up

pretty soon everyone is a
victim of the environment
and their own activities.

the heart for example wears
itself out beating so much.
even if only one percent of

a hostile atmosphere gets
you, eventually it adds up.
most of all, a primitive

mind must be convinced to
go along with everything;
it decomposes asking why.

my wives

golden furious, tawny redwing, cater pillar, mother ESP, tawny redwing, tawny redwing.

zone 12

it was late enough to witness the sprinklers goin off in zone 12 so you best believe i was up priusnear allnightlong.

upon observing cracked earth in around and near there earlier this morning, about 4:20 in the afternoon, i decided to go with the words of a wise man and "let it go" for the summer.

all four dogs are now ripping at flesh, a sign of prosperity.

20457823489Delicious baby goat

Missive just coming in: Latest Braino victim, distraught, tells doctor tearfully, "Well just get rid of it then! Get rid of it! Oh my God Mthyuh mia boo hoo hoo."

Screen

Everyone started dreaming of a death. The death could have been a murder, and it had them all tossing and turning. It could have been any one of them. They just couldn't remember for sure because it had been so far back in their collective history.

They'd see one another sitting in a doctor's waiting room down at Pharm-Supply or standing in line for remote muscular pilot (RMP) debugging.

Chama, a 35-year-old topless black goddess, piped up:

Used to be they'd take you in a cave and show you which demon you had and try to scare it away. They assumed you were perfectly fine you know, it was the demon that was in you causing pro'ms chile.

Now I can't even say the name of the demon yall got even though I know what it is. Has to be a special ceremony for that. Incense cost money. Know what I mean?

I been scoured spiritually inside and out. They don't make me do that RMP stuff. I'm like the movie of a real woman you can see on the screen of your pain all the other times when I'm not present emotionally.

cultural colloquiality

this bad word co-gets heard by two
greeters on either side of a linguist-
ic gap. i claim my cultural colloquia-
lity, and the intimacy of our overlap.

Mental Mine Canary

They should have paid his family for that, eh? Illyn was the mental mine canary and he went over-- two time! God warned him not to get too intimate with the worldly knowledge. You see Hoolie,

grampa was a mental
miner budgerigar, ye-
low pit bull terrier, in-
da mine field. Birdin
damiddle, or halfa du-
bbaberra, boy! You is
Illyn in disguise, oh u
isda coza da disastuh.