Facebook message sent yesterday 9/25/09
amidst a wave of chemically aided inspiration and bliss
dear emma,
i love your poem.
so does my cat,
it really just confused my dog tho.
(he's illiterate)
as of late, i have been possessed
by buke's ghost between
when i wake up and when i go to sleep.
his spirit even got me a
shitty little full-time job
at a bakery.
also, i drink a lot,
and this led to me destroying
like 5 keys on my keyboard,
because i want typer sounds,
not plaz-tec crunchies,
so i beat the keyboard to death...
with my fingers!
i miss my smith-corona,
but i cant find an ink ribbon for it.
i may have to frame your poem tho.
and then send you one,
typed over a picture
of my massive vag.
and sent pony express-style,
using carrier pigeons.
posing as geese!
tales of ordinary madness
is my favorite. i like short stories
i can read on my lunch break.
my fav poem by myself,
charles bukowski,is-
my old man.
he was a prick.
so i've been listening to this great new band
-the mama's and the papa's.
you've heard of them?
i might shave my legs
just for the thrill of it.
did i tell you i ate dexedrine earlier?
that and rum. i'm having a party.
with your facebook.
are you jealous?
i already need to leave milwaukee again.
i feel like it might suck me into its
dark heart. i am contemplating
a temporary vesectomy,
to prevent babies from happening here.
sex is like a bear trap covered in honey,
and i am quite the pooh bear,
but leary of milwaukee's trix.
lets be paper-mail pen-pals.
i'll message you my address.
i'm wondering if i have conquered
your entire walls face?
and you don't get preggers either!
we need to write much, much more
before we start making babies
with random strangers and vagrants.
thats phase 4 of the plan,
and sadly we are not using that plan
because i ate it and forgot the rest.
yuck. we might have to eat some poop
to make me remember?
sifting through the feces just sounds
fucking gross! (and much less satisfying)
happy friday night! i miss you!
P.S.- this is actually quite serious....
i was at a dan deacon concert
this summer and ate some hippie paper
so i went to the bathroom to shit,
only to sit on a toilet covered in piss,
possibly voms. the paper made my
butt feel funny, so i just kept pooping.
then, i realized i had to wash my ass,
so i held my pants at my knees, and
exited the stall into a packed bathroom.
i'm damn sure everone in there looked
at me, and my penis, but they didn't
say anything. not a word. not even when i turned
on the sink and sat down in it. then,
i saw these two guys from this milwaukee
band, brief candles, that played at the cave and
partied at yellow door and crack. so i was like,
hey i remember you! you played at the cave!
we smoked in my bedroom, in MN!
you guys having a good time? i'm okay.
oh, this? don't worry. i sat in piss! it's all good dudes.
i have to wash my ass before i put my pants
back on, its cool man. some 16 year old kids
fed me a tiny picture of felix the cat!
oh no man, i dont wear underwear, they're like
chains for your bait and tackle. stinky white chains.
i free-ball. its like wearing boxers, but not.
god im drunk! when is your next show?
(then, in front of them and 30 other dudes,
i got down off the sink and rubbed my ass
and genitals vigorously with paper towel,
which i defiantly (in my own mind, because at the time
washing my ass in a public restroom wasn't defiant or risky enough)
threw on the floor with a zealous grin. and somehow
still managed to get my shorts soaking wet)
well, i wanna go dance more, it was nice talking,
but i'm fucking tripping balls. i'll see you smelly beatniks laterz!
i'm going to get my groove on with furry bunny hands!
looking back, i have no regrets. but very well may have
been beaten, or arrested. so the moral of the story is,
dont get caught, and you can do anything at a concert
if children aren't present and you've taken LSD.
P.S.S.- i really hate underwear.
P.S.S.S.- this will no longer post to your wall
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