Nicholas Morgan


You jerk!

It was snowing out in Michigan. Freezing fuking cold. I laugh at people who say it’s cold in texas. It can’t get cold in Texas. Try going outside and having your ears go numb after 2 minutes.

I had been drinking heavily sitting in my house by myself. One room was locked with tons of kind flowering marihuana plants growing to the ceiling. It was padlocked. I guarded them. It was how I got free rent. I continued drinking and thinking about my last girlfriend who had dumped me. Her name was Nicole. She was a chubby little rolley polley of a woman. Her breath always stunk like a fishy cunt, or moldy milk.

We had dated about 4 months. I didn’t really love her, but I cared about her. She didn’t like my lifestyle choices and I wasn’t about to change for anyone. Take me as I am, or fuk off. So one day she went into this lame ass speech with tears pouring down her face.. saying.. “I can no longer watch you kill yourself everyday with drugs…bla bla bla..i love you to much… bla bla bla…”
I just stared at her not saying anything.

Then she yelled… “Don’t you have anything to say!?”

“Can I borrow five bucks for a pint of whiskey?” I asked her.

She spit in my face and I ran to her car as the snow poured down. So that was about a month ago. Haven’t seen or talked to her since. But now that I’m bored and getting drunk I think I’ll go stumble over to her house and see what she’s up to. Maybe she can loan me some money. I wouldn’t mind fuking her one last time either, this jacking off is getting old.

So I bundled up in my thickest coat and warm hat. I watered the plants and talked to them. Then I headed out my front door into a blizzard. I was pretty dam drunk and I started walking towards her house. I slipped a few times on the ice and fell on my head and arm. I was too drunk to really feel much pain.
I made it to her driveway and saw a car in her driveway next to hers I had never seen. Could she have gotten another boyfriend this quick? My mind thought. Maybe.

I snuck around into her backyard to peek through her kitchen window. There she was sitting at her kitchen table with this dorky looking fat ass dude with glasses and short greasy hair parted on the side. He looked like something out of the movie revenge of the nerds. They were playing chess and talking, adjusting their four eyed spectacles. Then she jumped up and gave him a big kiss on the lips. I felt like puking. Who was this guy with Nicole? And why did I care all the sudden?

They went over to the couch and started talking more nerd shit and making out. I saw his hand reaching up her shirt. I grabbed a big icy brick from her backyard and decided to ruin their party by smashing it through her kitchen window. It was fuking really loud. They both jumped off the couch in fright. I stuck my head in the broken window saying…

“You lil whore, what are you doing?”

“Norman!” she screamed.

“Who the hell is this?” the geek asked.

“MY god! What are you doing!” she yelled.

“What the fuk are you doing is the question!” I screamed.

“I’m gonna kick his ass!” the geek yelled, coming outside to greet me.

I just smiled at him and began puking whiskey all over his feet. He looked shocked. Then I poked him in the eyes with two fingers, blinding him. He screamed. She screamed. Then I kicked him square in the nuts sending him down to the snow. He couldn’t breath now.

“I’m calling the mother fuking police!” Nicole yelled running for her phone. I couldn’t have that, so I ran after her and grabbed the phone from her, ripping it out of the wall.

“Have you gone insane Norman! We are not dating anymore! What in all hell is wrong with you.”

“I just came over to say hi, I’m gone, later.”

She was crying like crazy trying to lift the geeks bloody head from the snow. I took off running down the street laughing like crazy.

I decided to not go home. She would get a hold of the cops eventually. So I stumbled into a bar and drank 4 mixed drinks. Then ran out without paying. I ran down alleys of snow. Heading over to where my band practiced. I slipped a few times again, and my head was bleeding. Two of my band members were there when I arrived. They were all concerned pussies about what was going on with me.

“Mind your own fuking business, let’s play some music.” I grabbed the mic.

I started singing some drunken babble about.. “ I wanna get fuked! I wanna stick my drunken cock in your hole, baby baby baby, I wanna drink all night and fuk!”

Then the two of them started in on this lecture about how I needed to change or they were gonna kick me out of the band that I started.

“You fukers are bunch of whiney idiots! Fuk off, I’m out.”

I ran down the street back to my house but saw cop cars out front.

So I went and passed out under a freeway overpass. Freezing. Waking up frozen and hungover with hypothermia kicking in. I lit a cig and wondered what the hell I had done. I sure was a jerk at times. I hoped the cops didn’t get in and find my budding beauties.


Dream gone real

ned had done too much. a mixture of oxycontins, vicodin,xanax, beer,aspirin, and speed. His heart was trippin out and it felt like a burning hot hand was squeezing it. he started seeing black and overwhelming fear. Depression. He thought he'd never be scared when death came. But he didnt want to die like this.he began puking in streams of powerful heaves.tears poured down his face and he had no one to call because his cell phone had been cut off from lack of bill paying. alone with his cat. alone with death. he began to pray for life -promising to flush the rest if he could overcome this bad trip. he saw black and passed out for 15 minutes thinking he was dead.horrible images in the after life flooded his head with messages in that 15 minutes.when he came to he began to cry.

being overjoyed he was still alive. he kept his promise and flushed the rest and cracked another beer. his cat looked less concerned. after about half an hour he got off his lazy boy chair and went to the toilet and stared into it hoping it might still be there. nothing but toilet water. "what the fuk is wrong with me?" he sobbed, as a cockroach the size of his foot ran buy into a floor drain with a chunk of moldy bread in its mouth.the cat chased after it but was too late.

he went to sleep finally at about 6 am.he had all these crazy dreams. astrol projection telepathy type stuff. his dead friend was in one and it was as if it was real. it had to of been. his friend a stranded soul. a ghost. ned crossed him. in the name of the father son holy ghost after a long conversation about things and why? in the dream and his deacesed friend looked happy. then a white light from the sky sparked down and these massive caring hands reached for him. he smiled at ned and thanked him, then went up into the sky, then the dream turned into a nightmare, murdering evil forces came in. ned so scared he couldnt even move as this enitity began to stab to death a girl right in front of him, this nightmare went on for hours. ned finally woke up in a pool of sweat. his sheets soaked wet, his body shivering.

when he awoke he felt much better but also very different. a sort of zombie fied emotionless feeling in his gut.

something had changed with in him.

he tried to jack off, tugging, pulling, thinking of drunken naked bimbos. eventually he came. but something put fright into him. it had felt like he came, but nothing came out of the hole, shooting blanks, that had never happened before. he tried to not think about it and went to piss. it felt like piss was coming out but as he looked down no pee came from his he got a lil worried.he looked in the mirror, dark black circles were under his eyes and his eyeballs were only huge pupils now. what the fuk is this, he thought.he had no hunger for food either, the thought of food made him sick feeling and he hadnt eaten the day before.his face was very pale like a ghostly glow about it.he stared at his hands, flicking one of his fingers, there was no feeling in his hands anymore. he began to lose part of his sanity and took a knife from his kitchen. he screamed, then plunged the knife into o ne of his hands. he pulled it out, no blood came gushing out, just a black hole that quickly sealed up. "Am i dead?" he asked god, crying, but no tears fell.he dressed for work, frightened yet curious. people at work no longer had human faces, each was a deformed animal, some were even different animals combined.his boss was now a weazul mixed with a chipmunk racoon face. another girl was a pig, just an ugly pig guy was a turtle face. another dude was a porcupine. it wasnt their bodies, those will still human, but their faces deformed. and when they talked it really started freaking ned out. one girl was a rat mixed with an elephant ostrich.customers all had animal faces too. one lady was a humming bird, her head moving in fast forward lady was a toad face, her tongue jumping out and eating flies in the god, everyone was showing what their souls were really. ned was scared. he reached up and touched his own face but couldnt feel anything cause his hands had no feeling. he went to the bathroom and washed his face in cold water, crying, he looked in the mirror and his face was now a bloody lion. "Ugh!" he screamed! then a lions roar came from his mouth.he lifted his shirt and looked at his belly button and all these purple worms were spilling from it. "OH fuk, what the!"

he was losing it now completely, he began mumbbling jibberish to himself in a girls voice. he walked over to the lady who ran the metaphysical section. a friend of his. She turned around but had her normal face, only wings were sprouting from her back.

"Hello ned" she said, in a soothing voice." whats wrong?" she asked.

"I think im dead or something, you would think i was crazy if i told you what was happening..."

"No i wont, try me."

"Well first off do you beilive in any of these weird ass books you shelve?"

"Ofcourse i do,most of it is all real, it's a part of everyday life most people try and ignore or not believe in."

"I'm a lion, a bloddy one.i think i'm dead. im scared."

"You do look very tired, something is very different about your face and eyes, it's like your glowing.."

"i'm losing my mind." he sobbed.

"Then just wake up, this lesson is done for today." she said, smiling at him, touching his shoulders gently.

he opened his eyes, and was in his bed again covered in sweaty soaked sheets. a picture of his dead friend had fallen off the wall. hew went to pick it up confused, and saw a smile on the friends face in the picture. he hadnt been smiling in that picture originally. neds bible was open to a certain passage and he began to read it. he went to piss and pee came out. he could feel his hands but the dark circles under his eyes were even darker. for some reason he began to cry out of shear relief realizing how beutiful life could be. he looked in the mirror and his tears were made of blood.he looked at his feet, and they were gigainatic lion paws with claws. everything started happening again only it was different now. he was different. he felt his heart and there was no beating.


Utter failure

No money, no car, no girlfriend,
Getting older, fatter, uglier,
Everything is broken
My fridge, the kitchen sink, windows,
In debt-sleepless-near homeless
Dead end boring job, burgundy long scruffy hair,
White hairs from chin pop
Few friends dwindling,
Unshaven, xanax, medicated,
Out of shape physical appearance
7 days sober
What a bore

Wagon wheels broke, OE for breakfast

Sunshine’s glare
A squint of an eye
On clear ocean blue waves
Digging hands into warm sand
While topless females prance around
Splashing, giggling, perfect bodies, perfect tans,
Playing volleyball
Enjoying life
Everything is just wonderful

Threats, guns, debts, isolation-
Broken toe, broken teeth,
Exhaustion, liars, actors, users-
Scammers, addicts,

“You’re an utter failure”
my mother tells me
dropping me off in her brand new jaguar
at my underpaid job

I almost respond
But shut the door instead

Having heard all before

I’d kill for a smoke
& life is so dandy


Mo chunks

This poem is about the sun
This poem is about my red toes
This poem is not about barf
This here thing is about music and drugs in the mail
This is about female naked ghosts spread eagle in un made beds
This poem is about whiskey
About the smell of cooked animals in a pan
When ones hunger goes beyond human
This poem is about me, about you, about locking ones doors,
After unlocking them, this is fire,
This is a rant poem from a drunken hermit
About drinking at abnormal times
About picking through seedy weed
Only to get a headache from efforts
This poem is about a kiss
This idiot drunken babble is about being always buzzed
This poem is not about barf
This poem is about shaman dreams
This poem is about near death awakenings
This poem is about walking out to your mailbox naked
Wondering if any neighbors will notice
This poem is about boredom
This poem is about to make me want to make another drink
This poem is not about barf
This poem has life oozing from its retarded syllables
This poem is about the music you can’t hear
A story not a poem
All about your headstone on a summer day
As young kids take communion wafers
At Sunday mass
Tongues melt, lips are licked…


Hairy spotty cracked out naked man’s balls dangling in the Texas sun

     Marvin had bin up for four days on crack. He had been calling in sick to work, but it was time to go back to work at the bookstore. He finished his crack and got in his car naked and drove down Texas Avenue. He was drunk. He was on xanax. He was on vicodin. He was also wired from four days of crack. Nothing wrong with being naked, he thought to himself. Naked is good, cause it’s hot in Texas. He drove along smiling, waving at Chinese students with backpacks, peddling bikes to class. Ministry’s song psalm 69 blasted from the car speakers, scarring people who parked next to him at stoplights. Music blared from the cars speakers. He parked his car in the bookstore parking lot and sat for a minute talking to himself, smoking some hydro he had grown and harvested himself.
     “Shut the fuck up, how dare you, fingers can be numb dinosaurs brought back from dirt in nailed universes within time machines gone in solar systems, stop talking to me!” He said aloud to himself. Then he sat laughing till he cried and got out of his car and started to walk up to his workplace. He stared up at the sun as people began to look and point with nervous expressions. Depression hit hard. It always did when he had to go out in public. He swallowed a few more xanax bars, as a trickle of diarrhea accidentally shot from his ass onto the hot pavement.
     He walked into the bookstore stark naked. The first employee to notice Marvin was an older lady he worked with. Her eyes opened wide with fright. Marvin also had a raging boner for some reason.
     “Hi Sally, how are you today?” Marvin asked her.
     “What the hell are you doing?” she said, scared shitless, as customers began to panic.
     “I’m gonna put books away cause I work here,” Marvin said, walking to the back of the store. His huge hard on was bulging with throbbing purple red veins sticking straight up towards his fat dirty belly button.
     Then planes in the sky came smashing down into his work place and everyone died waiting for the next sentence.



I was druggin out on my day off
My old roommate I kicked out
Showed up on my doorstep
With some 6 foot five
Kid of 22 dressed in all black About 300 pounds
With nose rings, mouth rings- eyebrow rings
“Hey bro” he said
“I aint your fuking bro,
you don’t know me I don’t know you.”
“Dang Norman, why you gotta be like that to my homeboy.”
My stupid ass old roommate said.
“You a cop?” I asked the huge man
“Hell no. my names billy>” he said
“You got any of that cash you owe me Wilbur? From the time I gave away 75 dollars in cds to save you from an ass beating.”
“I’m broke man, I spent all my money on pot from labor ready. I got a third degree burn on my neck from the sun all day>” he said, pointing at his neck.
“Come on in kids.” I said.
I stared at the big dumpy dude. And thought maybe I could hire him as a bodyguard.
“What’s your story? “ I asked him.
“I’m from Chicago but stay in hillbilly Caldwell now. I met Wilbur at the homeless shelter. I got three kids and a whore of a wife who left me when she cheated on me.”
“Ha!” I blurted.
“Hey man, did you come in to my bookstore with your kids and her a few weeks ago asking for a job?”
“Yeah man, that was me, you were a real dick to
me.” He said, lighting a joint. “Sorry man, but they wouldn’t have hired you.” “Its cool.” He said.
Wilbur started saying he was starving and asked if he could raid my fridge.
“Help your self man, I never eat.” I said, doing my thing in front of them.
“Wow dude, these painting are fukin really groovy man.” The big Billy dude said, looking around at my paintings on the wall.
“Each one was done on a different drug. I don’t really paint much anymore, gotta be in a certain mood.” I mumbled.
“I dig.” He said.
I started staring at him again. And thought of the novel of mice and men. The big dumb guy in it. “You a huge motherfuker>” I told him.
“Yeah” Wilbur budded in.. “He’s my homeboy.”
“You guys faggot lovers?” I asked laughing at my lame humor.
“Fuk you norman.jeez man.” Wilber said.
The big guy just laughed.
“He knocked out the homeless shelter coordinator today.” Wilber said.
“why did you do that?” I asked billy.
“Cause he spit in my face and was trying to preach the bible to me.”
“Hmmm. Good reason.” I said.
“Can we crash here tonight?” Wilbur dropped on me.
“Shit Wilber. drop another fuking bomb on me why don’t you.”
“Well we have no where to go and need to leave now if we cant to find a place to crash. He can’t go back to the homeless shelter.”
“Lemmee think about it.” I said.
“You a cop?” I asked Billy again.
“Hell no dude, what are you paranoid? I’m a bass player and a painter as well.!”
“Hmmm..” I said, staring over at Wilber.
Popping 8 vicodins.
“Company, I just love company.” I said. Impersonating Dennis hopper, as feck in the movie rivers edge that I had seen a zillion times.


Mornings with Fred

     I got a new roommate. He was real quiet and kept the house clean. A nice change. He was in bed by the time I got off work at 1030 pm. He would awake at 7 am. I didn’t get that. I have always been a night creature and day sleeper. His name was Freddy and he told me his dad was an old hippy. That’s all I really new about him cause he never talked. Sometimes he would say off the wall things that had nothing to do with anything and I’d ask him what he was talking about. He’d get this weird smile and walk off grinning to himself. Some people said he looked like a serial killer with his big thick glasses. I was a slob. I’d leave dirty dishes in the sink till ants swarmed them. He’d clean them. Whatever floats your boat dude. He was more into psychedelic drugs, weed, acid, and shrooms. I didn’t like that stuff. I had enough of that as a kid. Well, I was still a pothead.
     The other morning the neighbor’s dogs started barking non-stop at about 8 am. I dragged my lazy tired still drunk body out of bed to see what was setting them off. Freddy was sitting in an Indian position naked in the middle of my backyard meditating while these dogs behind my backyard stood at this fence barking at him like crazy. I thought I was stuck in some weird dream for a second.
     “Hey man, Freddy! What you doing? I’m trying to sleep.”
     He didn’t turn around to look at me. He kept meditating. What was wrong with this freak?
     I walked up to him telling him to get some clothes on and get in so those stupid dogs would shut up. He looked up at me. His eyes wild on something.
     “This is the pedicle of enlightenment.” He said in some weird deep voice.
     “dude, what are you on?” I asked him.
     “Shrooms, gods natural gift to the human race.”
     “You’re starting to creep me out and piss me off, I’m trying to sleep.”
     “FINE!” he yelled, “I’ll go on a walk with my geese>” he stood up.
     “What geese man, what are you talking about? You can’t go walking around the streets naked.”
     “You sir, will never be free!” he yelled at me and took off running down the street.
     I went back to bed. Fuk it.
     When I awoke, he was in my blue room building cardboard walls that had pieces of his sci fi novel glued all over them. It was like some maze of cardboard and words.
     “I gotta go to work. Don’t pull that shit again when im sleeping.” I told him.
     He had clothes on finally.
     He looked at me and said.
     “Money can’t buy you freedom.”
     “Whatever dude, later.” I said. Hoping he didn’t murder my cat while I was at work.



The jellyclown is gone
They locked her up in some home
Against her will

I was in a delirious psychosis
When I went into work
From horrible sweaty nightmares
And only an inch of sleep
Everything was making me laugh
& I wasn’t even stoned

the white van was in parking lot
all the crazies were in
this one lady with a huge belly
who dressed in stained spandex
& bright green Mickey Mouse shirts
was sitting on the bench
across from register with Janice
she had tourettes syndrome

all these little black kids walked in
maybe on a field trip
& the lady goes…
“Look at all the lil niglets!”

oh jesus, I thought,
walking away
trying not to laugh

then I walked back
towards them on the bench

a normal looking customer man walked in
kaki’s, penny loafers, a and m shirt
he started looking at this display of golf books

I noticed the belly lady Mickey Mouse freak staring at him
Then she blurted out….
“Take a look at you! Ya gone and shit all over yourself again!”
man, did that guy ever look perplexed

it was too much for me to take
I broke out in this huge laugh
Walking away towards the back Laughing so hard tears formed



An older man
Was creeping around my fiction section
With what I think now was his grandkid

We had eye contact
A shiver was sent up my spine
As we exchanged just a second of souls

I was angry and hung over as usual
I started wondering what the fuk
This dude was staring at
Don’t look at me
You fuk
I’m trying to earn 6 dollars an hour here
On a Sunday
You rich looking asshole

Something was different about him
But I was too stupid to get
‘All the pretty horses’
I can’t stand matt Damon

I liked ‘child of god’

The older fellow and me
Exchanged dirty looks again?
Or wondering looks?
As he walked up to the counter

What’s he fuking staring at me for?
Stupid asshole
I thought to myself

The man asked if we sent mailings
The dumb blonde at the counter said yes

& he sent himself all the books he had picked out
to one of his homes in new Mexico
guess he likes to travel light

no one figured out who he was
till the next day
staring at his name and photo copied signature
on the mail to be sent out
to new mexico

when everyone I worked with
figured out who had been in the store
on that rainy lonely Sunday

they all gathered around like vultures
gossiping among themselves

it sort of made me sick
who fuking cares?
They acted like
God had slipped way
Without anyone noticing

I noticed
I just didn’t care to say anything

& I could call cormac McCarthy right now
in new mexico
if I was some nut case stalker

my boss got a boner
when he heard the news
cormac being his favorite author
on his day off

“did you talk to him?” my boss asked

“No, I didn’t, but I stared at his soul for a second or two,
& he may have seen a glimpse of mine.” I said,
wondering if
the electric company had turned off my power

fame means nothing


Chop it off now!

Melvin never felt right with his left arm. Ever since he was young, he wanted it gone. He didn’t believe that it was a natural part of his body. As he grew older and a tad crazier from substance abuse the urge to cut off his arm became stronger.
He suffered from apotemnophilia, one of the most bizarre disorders in the annals of psychology, and Melvin wanted to undergo amputations in order to "feel whole."

Melvin lived alone in a cabin somewhere in the mountains of northern Tahoe. He made a living digging worms from mucky ponds all day. Worms for fisherman’s bait. He got 13 cents a worm. Some days were better than others. He had a decent cabin, some farm animals, and few friends. He drank heavily and liked to read books about the paranormal.
No women ever showed any interest in him, so he rarely made an effort to talk to many females, or males, he was a loner, but had plenty of ways to entertain himself.
Lot of the local folks thought he was an odd egg. He mostly kept to himself and dug his worms to sell to the fishing shops.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about cutting off his arm. He was convinced it was not a part of him. It had never felt like a part of him. His left arm was an alien. Did Melvin’s hellish past life have anything to do with this strange need to chop his arm off? Who knows, not even science.

Anyway, after drinking a good amount of aged expensive whiskey, Melvin decided it was time. He got out his chain saw, revving it up, sitting in his barnyard in a pile of hey, like a pillow bed. He took one deep breath, and came down hard on his left arm with the chain saw. Screaming at the top of his lungs, as blood sprayed all over, and the crunching of breaking bones echoed like breaking baseball bats.
It was soon over, and Melvin’s bloody limb of an arm was now detached from his body. It lay in the now blood red hey. He lifted his head to the sky….”Thanku god!Oh god thank you! It’s finally gone! I’m free!”
It was the best high he had ever had, he felt so complete now. The texts sun shown down as pretty sounding birds hovered ahead his barn.
He lay there in bliss for hours holding his former limb, until he bled to death with the most blissful feeling he had ever felt throughout his 39 years. Eyes like warm tunnels from other dimensions that never knew physical pain could bring such peace, such resolution.


Weed and murder

     I once smoked pot on more then a few occasions with a guy named Dean evilsizer. We lived in a small Michigan town with no crime or murders. He seemed like an ok fella. But you never know what a person you meet may end up doing in the future.
     Anyway, there hadn’t been a murder in this small town in over 20 years. The story goes Mr. evilsizer and an acquaintance dropped quite a bit of acid one night. The other fella, who we will call bob was nice enough to let Mr. evilsizer chill at his house and spend the night. Bob was tripping too. Bob’s wife was asleep. The trippers stayed up into the early morning freaking out on a lot of lsd watching cartoons until something went terribly wrong. Some sort of argument ensued, but nobody really knows what set MR. evilsizer off. There was a struggle as bugs bunny blared from cartoon network.
     Dean then plunged a fire poker through bobs scalp, and if that weren’t enough he then went and got the largest, sharpest kitchen knife and slit his throat from ear to ear, practically decapitating him as the cartoons still played on the TV. I think he stabbed him a bunch of times too, while bob’s wife was sound asleep. Nobody knows what the argument was about, bob’s friends all said dean must have snapped; all deans’ family and friends said bob must have snapped. No one really knows the truth but Mr. evilsizer I suppose. After he killed bob, he walked to his job at burger king covered in blood and told them he had just killed a man. It was the first murder in this small town in 20 years.
     So the next time your smoking a joint with someone you don’t know all that well, there is no telling what the future holds for them.



Ted started walking up to female customers at his work and began sniffing there necks quickly, then walking away. He loved the smell of women, didn’t matter if they were old grannies, young chickens, college aged, midgets, retards, blacks, whites, Indians….
He would come up behind them and sniff, his nose almost touching their necks, and then he would walk away. It was some sort of fetish old Ted had. He hadn’t been close to a woman in so long, not since his wife died years ago. He loved the smell of female flesh. It would excite him so much that at times he would have to relieve himself quickly in the public restroom.

He worked as a busboy at a real fancy restaurant.
Customers started getting creeped out by Ted’s habit so many complaints came to his rich smug boss.

The boss had a sit down with Ted one day and asked him if he had been sniffing ladies to closely and making them feel uncomfortable.
“I only get close enough to smell their beauty, but I never touch, this is legal and I am allowed to sniff any female I wish.”
“Are you insane Ted? You can’t go around sniffing my customers, what the hell is wrong with you! You’re fired!”
“Fine, I did nothing wrong, and now you will have to pay me unemployment, which is fine with me. I will spend my days in crowded subways, in cramped crowds, in parks.. bars, social events sniffing all the beautiful ladies I can!” goodbye to you boss. And by the way, your wife doesn’t have a pleasant smell about her.”
“What? How dare you!”
“She smells like other men’s sperm and rotten pumpkin pies.” Ted said, grinning.
“Get out Get out now! Before I fuking kill you!” the boss screamed.
“Good day sir,” Ted stood up, tipping his hat, bowing, headed for a crowded place so he could smell, smell all the lovelies he would never be able to touch.


Hairy spotty cracked out lord naked ring man balls dangling passion of the creep

Marvin had bin up for four days on crack. He had been calling in sick to work, but it was time to go back to work at the bookstore. He finished his crack and got in his car naked and drove down Texas Avenue. He was drunk. He was on xanax. He was on vicodin. He was also wired from four days of crack. Nothing wrong with being naked, he thought to himself. Naked is good, cause it’s hot in Texas. He drove along smiling, waving at Chinese students with backpacks, peddling bikes to class. Ministry’s song psalm 69 blasted from the car speakers, scarring people who parked next to him at stoplights. Music blared from the cars speakers. He parked his car in the bookstore parking lot and sat for a minute talking to himself, smoking some hydro he had grown and harvested himself.

“Shut the fuck up, how dare you, fingers can be numb dinosaurs brought back from dirt in nailed universes within time machines gone in solar systems, stop talking to me!” He said aloud to himself. Then he sat laughing till he cried and got out of his car and started to walk up to his workplace. He stared up at the sun as people began to look and point with nervous expressions. Depression hit hard. It always did when he had to go out in public. He swallowed a few more xanax bars, as a trickle of diarrhea accidentally shot from his ass onto the hot pavement.
He walked into the bookstore stark naked. The first employee to notice Marvin was an older lady he worked with. Her eyes opened wide with fright. Marvin also had a huge throbbing boner for some reason.
“Hi Sally, how are you today?” Marvin asked her.
“What the hell are you doing?” she said, scared shitless, as customers began to panic.
“I’m gonna put books away cause I work here,” Marvin said, walking to the back of the store. His huge hard on was bulging like some ugly deformed reddish alien, purple veins popping out of the things skin. Panicking customers ran for the doors. Employees scurried around with terrified expressions on their programmed faces.

Marvin smiled and began putting his books away, just trying to do his job. He found a ring on the floor, picked it up and put it in his asshole saying… “Maybe I’m the lord of dah dings, I mean pings, lord of dah zings?”
His boss finally came running up to him, trying to grab Marvin by the arm to pull him in the back and get him out of view.
Marvin yanked his arm away with a mad mans look sparkling from his zonked out eyes.
“You can’t have the ring! Even if you are my boss!” Marvin screamed.
“What the hell are you talking about, what ring? get out of my store now~ or I’m calling the cops!” the boss yelled, panting so hard it looked like he was about to have a cardiac arrest..

Then Marvin, while stroking his cock, said….
“I’m simply doing my job putting books away, now leave me be to get my work done, you cant have the ring, and I’m the captain of this ship soldier, you have mopped the deck floors to the airplanes first class cabins, and I might add, you didn’t do a very good job serving our guest pirates from the land of Epsodjtrottrinelin. They said the drinks were flat and that you came close to crashing into the newly jelly made Grand Canyon, can I borrow some crayons? I will draw it for you, you don’t seem to understand it in words, your eyes look perplexed..”
The boss was speechless, stunned, a scared worried anxiety ridden look on his red face.

Other employees stood around stunned, some covering their mouths.
The boss tried to grab Marvin’s arm again and force him out of the store, but Marvin gave him a knuckle sandwich with his powerful right hand, sending the boss flying into a display of erotic art books.
“HA, see what you get for touching! For trying to steal my ring!!, oh fuk it, you can have the ring boss,” Marvin said, as he squirted diarrhea from his ass again and the ring came plopping out onto the boss’s confused face.
“Happy now!” Marvin yelled. The boss struggling to get up off the floor and flee.

The police eventually showed up, guns drawn, bullhorns out, more and more squad cars pulling up…. “Come out with your hands up naked man!” “But i'm the passion of the Harry’s blotter dorg of the wings, I’m the crowned king of the world you mustache wearing over grown smurfs! Now all of you out there get back to the deck and begin scrubbing for our purple pirate guests! Now coppers!” Marvin yelled, still masturbating his throbbing organ, staring out the gigantic bookstore window.

Most of the employees had run out the back door by now in terror. But one guy, a big guy, Marvin worked with was hiding behind some shelves, waiting to play the hero.
The police yelled again to come out with your hands up!

Marvin just stared out at the hot Texas day, smiling at the pigs, one hand waving, the other one jacking his cock off. He was mumbling things about shaved geese, tailless cats, spotty dangling nut sacks, passions of the naked man, Larry’s blotters hot sister, cabbage patch cults……”
As he was babbling this and staring at all the cops while he waved and spanked, the hero employee came up behind him and tackled him through the huge glass window.
Marvin was all bloody now. Cops ran up to him guns drawn, handcuffing him, while Marvin tried to struggle like some squirming injured naked pinhead covered in blood and glass shards.

The cops pulled him up off the hot pavement as Marvin yelled…..
“I gave up the ring! I am not the criminal. I shit the ring out. my god. Lords of hobbits in blue! Please oh kind smurf men! Set me free! I’m an Oprah book! I swear she stamped my head with the numbers of the beastyblueberries! I am not the spotted creep you are looking for! Take me back to Epsodjtrottrinelin!”

The cops pushed him into the back of a squad car as journalists snapped pictures and interviewed all the witnesses. The cops patted the hero on the back for his bravery. He was a hero now in the boring little town. The superhero employee future cop saved the world from a guy named Marvin. A guy named Marvin who everybody thought was sick in the head. But Marvin wasn’t sick in the head, he wasn’t insane. It’s just no one ever took the time to try and be his friend or listen to him, he was alone always, inside and out, so something happened that most of society wasn’t use to. Marvin may be the sanest man alive.


Pickled piss jars filled with love

Berlo had collected his pee in pickle jars for 3 years now.
Each jar fastened and labeled with a date. His basement was covered with them all nicely placed on shelves. You might think this to be odd, a man to collect his pee in jars for years, but Berlo had his reasons. I suppose it would be stranger if he didn’t have a reason for doing it. Maybe not.

Judge Bixom had sentenced Berlo’s girlfriend to 10 years in the pen for exactly 9 ounces of weed. It wasn’t even her weed. It was Berlo’s. But she loved him so much she took the fall. Berlo felt so guilty as to what happened to his love. His lover’s name was Eveta. Not a day passed that Berlo didn’t think of his love rotting away in some prison cell. Each time he pissed in a pickle jar it gave him satisfaction. Because soon Bixom would get what was coming to his fat heartless ass.

Oh god Eveta was all Berlo could think of, ~her smell, her voice, her innocent yet wise eyes, her oh so tight slippery pussy, her great humor, Berlo had never met a female who made him laugh the way she did, all his dreams were of Eveta, her smile, her tits, the way she walked, talked and cooked, the way she giggled, everything about her he loved with all of his soul.~ Berlo never realized that love was the most powerful, most beautiful, most dangerous drug in the world.Berlo continued to visit her weekly. She had grown sad behind bars, just as he had without her. He continued to pee in the jars everyday, just waiting till the time was right.

Berlo had become a drug addict. He never was when Eveta was free. Sure they would drink on occasion, but never any other drugs, cept maybe a Saturday night joint for a night out at the movies. He was too filled with the love for Eveta to need any other false highs. But now, since she was gone, he had been doing anything, any drug he could get his hands on, anything to help the loneliness, the pain that ate away at him at night as he slept alone hugging a pillow, thinking of Eveta, thinking of that bastard Judge Bixom.
After years of peeing in his jars he decided it was time to pay a 3 a.m. visit to judge merle bixoms large mansion.
He dressed in black with a dark ski mask on. He got good and loaded on whiskey, xanax, crack and ecstasy. He felt really fukin good. Berlo loaded up the hundreds of pee jars into a large box. Stared up his van, slugging whiskey, he began to drive blurry eyed over to the judge’s house.

First he got into the garage and very carefully disarming the car alarm from Bixom’s bmw, he pulled out one his jars of pee, dated 1998, august 16, two year old urine. He opened the doors to the car and began pouring it all over the seats, all over everything in the car. Then Berlo quietly broke into the judge’s house, holding a huge box of his pee jars. He walked into every room in the house except for where the judge and wife were fast asleep.

He poured his piss in all their food, on all their furniture, on the walls. He dumped it everywhere till the jars were empty. It stunk already. His nose could barely handle the stench, so he quietly sneaked out of the house, leaving a rattlesnake in bixoms mailbox.

Berlo drove home wasted laughing at the top of his lungs, thinking of Eveta in her cell smiling in her dreams.
The next morning the judge and his wife awoke and began to gag from the stench, they began vomiting. The judge cursing, yelling…
“What the hell is that smell?” he shouted.
“My god honey, I have no idea, it smells like rotten vinegar or some sort of toxic urine!, It’s sick, I can’t take it, I’m going outside for the mail and to get some fresh air!” his wife said, almost in tears.
The judge went out to his car and opened the door, almost fainting from the stench, he began to dry heave, cursing furiously.
His wife reached her hand in the mailbox and let out a scream loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood, as the rattlesnake’s venom dug into her hand.

Berlo sat at home drinking cheap beer, laughing to himself, watching black and white twilight zone re runs on the TV. He felt good as he wrote his love, Eveta a long letter. Soon he told her. Soon, they would be together again someday. When he finished writing the letter, he stood up and pissed in his toilet for the first time in years. As his piss hit the water, he thought of Bixom and his wife going crazy with anger. He had left his scent and they could never get rid of it, even if they moved, Berlo had many more jars filled in his basement. Taking one’s love away can drive people to murder or just plain insanity. For revenge can be like a justified pickle jar filled with love piss.


My hero

A homeless guy named cb
always hangs around the dumpster about back of work.
Everyone else calls him Joe,
but he told me his name was cb.
I saw him walking all over town,
real red brown face from sun all day,
always walking around talking to himself aloud.
I like cb. He calls me his friend,
cause I actually take the time to talk to him,
instead of like most people just talking shit about him.
When he is by himself he walks around talking to the sky,
to the air, to maybe all the voices in his head.
But when I talk to him, or others, he acts totally normal.
Lately he has been coming into the store
for hours talking out loud to the books..
crazy babble stuff,,
“eeenee meenee mineee moe, fuking joe deemojio..” shit like that.
Big deal, he’s harmless.
But they kicked him out for good
cause he was creeping
around the children’s area, scaring mothers.
Last time I was having a smoke out back,
it was raining,
and he was walking by
staring up at sky talking to himself out loud.
“Hey cb, what’s up man? How you doing?” I asked him.
He just kept talking to the sky,
gave me the middle finger and said,
“fuk off governor.”
I heard a few days later
this hippy chick I work with
walked by a bench he was sitting at
he spit on her shoes, babbling something about princess alpaca.”
I still try and talk to CB.
Who knows
what his crazy blue-sunburned eyes have seen, bin, or saw.
I’ll bum him a smoke anytime.


Fit in, go on.

Money mongers
Working big bucks
Breakfast, lunch, supper,
Kids, wife, SUV’s, credit cards,
Voters, houses, bank accounts,
White teeth
Charming phonies
Dinner parties
Diamonds, dresses, suits,
Boring conversation’s
About stocks, bonds, politics,
Church, swimming pools,
Bank loans, sports &, moving corparate ladders,
so they can buy more leather couches
reading best sellers
because everyone else does
a zillion upper class houses
Sprawled out in rows
in suburbs
that look alike
money is everything
to these look alikes
I guess I have no point
Curl up with your grisham books
Curl up with all the best sellers
Late at night in fluffed pillows
& 10thousand dollar beds
Few look past what they were told to do
So now most have nothing inside
Even though they think
Money bought it all
Happy clones


Welcome to the circus

Part 1

Norman was late for work. Hung over. Black circles under eyes. Tired. Angry. His boss said come here a minute when he walked in. He got a lecture for being late in the boss’s office. Norman just stared at his boss’s eyes with almost dead eyes nodding- his head apologizing. Now that was over and it was time to get to work. They had recently told Norman his work sucked and that it hadn’t improved in 4 years. They gave his fiction section away and had stuck him in the back of the store with new sections. (Foreign language, education, reference, health, travel, journalism….) Norman was convinced that they didn’t want any customers to see him. He was thin, weak looking with long red matty hair, yellow teeth, unshaven, somewhat hunched over like an old troll, white whiskers sprouted out from his black goatee. Sometimes Norman would just stare at the shelves, stare at the books, wondering how time passed so slowly, wondering how he had got here and why he should stay. Years slipped by like minutes, but hours seemed like an eternity. Everyone was talking about him he thought. Customers, employees, gossiping about how weird he was. He thought.
The white van was parked out front of the bookstore. The white van came weekly. It was full of retards and mental patients from the local insane asylum.
Beans. Norman was staring at his magazine section and thinking of the word beans. “Beans” he said aloud to himself, as some yuppie mom customer looked at him worried, walking away quickly. He didn’t know why he thought of beans. Then he thought of frogs. So he said aloud to himself, frogs and beans.
A crazy person from the white van walked up to him. A black guy with special Olympic metals around his neck and ribbons of fake gold. “Chuck Norris is my daddy.” The black man told Norman. “ I know, but what about beans and frogs?” Norman asked the man. The man said… “Sinner!” to Normans face, and waddled off. Beans, Norman mumbled to himself staring at some glossy celebrity magazine and wondering why people cared so much about rich peoples lives that were on the TV. He walked over to the water jug to have a drink from the paper pointy cups. He saw another crazy person sitting at the middle wooden table. Her name was Janice. “Elijah,” she said to him. “Nope,” he said back to her. “Charlie motherfukin Manson,” she then called him. “Ok then”, he agreed with her.
“bah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha !” She laughed, pointing at Norman, saying, “you lil long tall Sally!” “Yep,” Norman mumbled, as employees and customers looked on worried.
Another black man almost bumped right into him as he turned a corner. This black man was real tall, thin, dressed in a blue striped old Salvation Army type suit, with a pink tie that had flying elephants on it. A pimped out black cowboy hat.. “Dam nigger hater loving Jew fukwad!” the man spat. The man tourettes syndrome. He couldn’t help it. “Beans,” Norman mumbled back to him, walking away quickly. “Beans!” Janice yelled, laughing…Cat Stevens played over the store speakers, a song called “Father and son.” Norman stared over at his boss. The boss was staring at him, with a weird look. Norman thought of outer space for a second, men in space suits eating beans and floating around the stars. Hmmm. He thought. “fuk cunt bitch whore slut fag dick shit cum suck!” the black man screamed. One of his caretakers walked him outside to try and get him away from so-called normal people and to try and hide his disease.
Norman walked into the men’s bathroom and walked into a stall that was open. There was an old man taking a shit with the stall door wide open. “Excuse me,” Norman said, embarrassed. The old man just gave him some sick grin, like he was getting off in some way. Norman walked out mad, wondering why the world had so many sickos in it. He walked back to his section thinking of beans, frogs, and now for some reason yellow snow, piss yellow snow. He began to grind his teeth, staring at his watch. It had only been 30 minutes since he got to work, but it seemed like 5 hours already.
A cute girl walked up to Norman asking.. “Do you have the book 1984?” Norman just stared at her opening his eyes real wide, not saying anything. Then he said.. “Ask me another question.” The girl got a look of fright, and walked away, flipping her head back with a paranoid look as if Norman were gonna rip her skin off. “Beans, frogs and piss snow.” Norman mumbled. To himself. HE stared at a yoga book with a lady on the cover who had one of her legs tucked behind her neck, her camel toe in full view with tight spandex on. He stared at her face and her beaver. “Beans,” he said to the lady on the book cover.
I could continue, maybe finish this lil tale, but for now it’s all about mood. This mood finished and hasn’t come back yet. Ever blown a fully intact bean from your nostril? After puking? I have. I still have it in a pickle jar from 1987.


Gag Me With A Spoon, He Is Like So Gross!

She was sitting at the bus stop with me, snow pouring down, 8 in the morning. She was shivering, so was I. It was a blizzard and she must have bin in the poverty level income, as was i. Most people with money have cars. She looked sad, worn out from life, maybe in her late 40’s, but she was still attractive, I can see beauty in most females, not even a sexual thing, just a radiating exquisiteness from their souls, their own private hell’s from life are easy to spot.

She looked over at me; we were both sitting on the bus bench. I quickly turned away and acted like I wasn’t staring at her. Then when she looked away, I glanced at her again, and she had a peculiar smile on her frozen red lips now. I lit a cig. She lit a cig, the snow came down harder. I couldn’t help it, I started staring at her face again, and there was something so wise about it, so filled with sorrow and beauty all at the same time. She caught me staring at her again and looked at me. I turned my head towards the ground of icy snow, acting like I wasn’t staring.
“Why do you keep staring at me?” she asked, puffing her cig.
“I, I, I wasn’t..” I stammered.
“Yes you were.” She said smiling at me.
“Well, I just find something about you fascinating, I mean we don’t know each other, and I aint some kind of pervert, but I just think you seem interesting.”
“And why is that?” she asked.
“I don’t know, I don’t talk to many women, I’m real shy, but would you like to maybe go out for a drink sometime, talk some more?” I mumbled, nervously.
She broke out into this huge laugh, a maniac hysterical coughing fit.
The bus pulled up.
She stood up, turned around looking at me, as she boarded the bus, still laughing and said… “sure, give me a call, in about a thousand years!” she kept laughing like a mad woman. I just sat there on the bench in the snow shivering, feeling insulted, rejected, confused. She wasn’t even very good looking. Who did she think she was. What the fuk is wrong with women? Am I truly some deformed reject with no charisma? Nothing at all interesting about me? I shouldn’t have let it bother me, but it did, I was sensitive and neurotic and shy, and barley ever asked ladies out. I just sat there on that bench smoking cigs for hours as more and more buses stopped asking if I needed a ride, but I just stared down at the snow, shivering, missing my scheduled class. Fuk her, she was just crazy.

I walked to a pub and drank the day away, hitting on the cute bartender girl who lifted my spirits when she handed me her phone number telling me she would love to go out sometime. I was so excited that I called her the next day. She had given me a fake phone number. I stared in the mirror that night after eating too much acid and I suddenly saw what I was. A monster. The most ugly male creature blessed with the looks of a deformed bloated dieing toad. I had long conversations with my fingers and hands the entire night refusing to look in the mirror again. The acid was real speedy so I tried to calm down and get a grip on reality by painting a picture. After a while of painting, I took a look at what was coming out of my hands onto the canvas, it was all these women with smug grins, they were pointing fingers at me covered in blood, and they were all laughing at me. I was starting to have a bad trip so I started watching Mr. Rogers in the early morning, but I became convinced he may be the anti Christ, he kept pausing in-between sentences, saying.. Hello Norman! How’s the acid treating you? Better then your love life I hope!” I swear he was doing it, and then he would go back to regular talking, but kept whispering no women would ever want a hideous monster like me. I tried to change the channel, but one of my hands wouldn’t let me control the remote. My other hand jumped up into my face, fingers like snakes saying… “I’ll be your girlfriend Norman, I think you’re cute!”

This was way too much. Not to mention my ass was farting some of the worst smells ever, smells not of this world. I jumped up, turned all the lights out, and hid under the covers, while my hands continued speaking in some other language I couldn’t understand, but I was sure they were mocking me.

Then I started hearing girls outside my kitchen window all chanting about what an ugly loser I was, throwing eggs at my window. Then my legs started kicking into the air non-stop. I couldn’t control them. They began talking to me, well my toes did. They started arguing, my fingers saying I’d never get a date, not in this lifetime, ha, ha, ha. My fingers just laughed at my toes, the toes trying to come to my defense, trying to tell me someday I’d meet a great woman… and they argued all sunrise, till I could take no more, Mr. Rogers face was turning into a rotten, dripping tree sap with mold and antlers protruding from it.

I ran out my second story apartment window trying to kill myself. It knocked me out. Next thing I know I was in an ambulance with this really nice looking paramedic lady smiling at me. After they fixed me all up, released me from the hospital, I went and saw that paramedic lady and asked her if she would like to go on a date sometime?
She broke out in hysterical laughter… saying…
“You can’t be serious? I mean come on, look at yourself.”
I drove home empty, defeated, almost in tears.
When I got home that night I ate 4 more tabs of lsd, three more then last time.
I sat in silence, in darkness, waiting for the show to start. A finger twitched, and then another one, it had begun.


Feral sex, torture, and eaten eyeballs

I went on a walk in the woods near the Brazos River with my semi mute roommate. We had smoked a ton of kind bud and decided to go venture at into nature. Eventually we wandered off the trail and hiked all over these weird Texas woods.
My roommate suddenly stopped and started staring up at a tree not saying a word.
“What are you looking at?” I asked him.
He just pointed up at the tree and then I saw what he was staring at. It looked like some kind of monkey, but it was more like a hairy little human with natty dry mud all over itself. Whatever it was, it started throwing acorns at us, and rocks, making these weird mutant monkey like noises…. “OhhhOOHHH. Aaaaah , AAAhhh. EKAK!EEEEEkako,, OOOHHHH, moooo maaaamooo EEEEcko!” it screamed at us.

“Holy fuk, what the hell is that thing?” I asked my roommate.
He just shrugged and picked up a big rock and threw it at its head, connecting perfectly. The thing came tumbling down from the tree with a loud thump, and lay next to us squawking and screeching, its furry matted head was wounded and bleeding.
“Why’d you throw a fuking rock at it’s head dude!” I asked my mute roommate.
“He just shrugged his shoulders, red eyed. We both just stared at the thing. It was trying to get up on its hands and back legs, but kept collapsing.
My roommate picked up a log and whacked it on the skull to knock it out.
“’What the hell ya do that for, fuk man, I thought you were an animal loving vegetarian!” I yelled at him.

“It’s a feral monkey child, it’s a person, I’ve read about them, we must take it home and nurture it, we must help it become human again.” The mute had spoken.
“Jesus fuk, you might have already killed the fukin thing, it’s probably got some ape family out here, it is a wild creature, it may have aids or all sorts of creepy viruses, I aint putting that thing in my car you freak!”
My roommate just stared at me with crazy eyes, still holding the heavy log he had hit the creature with. Mute man started scaring me, I was unsure of his sanity, so I decided to play along. We carried it back to my car and put it in the backseat. The thing smelled awful. We were half way home when it started waking up, making more weird noises, like some wounded hyena. “Shit, it’s waking up, it might attack me and bite my neck or something, do something, this was all your idea!” I screamed at the mostly mute roommate.
My roommate grabbed a hammer from under the passenger seat and bapped it on the head again, knocking it out.
“You’re gonna kill the fuking thing before we ever get it to the house!”
Mute man just looked at me, crazy eyes, grinned, then shrugged his shoulders, pointing his finger forward towards the loan freeway.

We made it back to the house and we grabbed one of my old surf bags and zipped it up in it, just incase nosey neighbors saw us carrying in a wild feral creature we had caught in the woods. We had found a rather large cage while dumpster diving a few days before that was sitting in my backyard, so we brought it in, laid a thick blanket in it, and unzipped the surf bag, lifting the monkey child man woman? Whatever it was into it’s new cage. We padlocked it.

Then we just sat there listening to Vivaldi really loud, smoking more pot staring at the thing, waiting for it to wake up. I started thinking maybe we had killed it, hours went by without a peep. I went to take a piss break from all the cheap beer I was consuming, when I heard a loud … EEEEEEEkkooooo!!!OOOOOOOHHHH OOOOOOHHHHH AAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH oooooh oooh oooh!” “It’s awake again!” my roommate yelled.
I had never heard my roommate talk so much. Most days he just sat in his room in total silence staring down at the blue concrete floors, chain rolling cigs from the butts I had left in ashtrays around the house. He was an odd egg.

I ran back into my paint studio where we had put the cage. The feral monkey freak man/woman? Creature began pulling on the cage, trying to break free, kicking it, biting it, rolling around in agony making all those wild noises.
“Christ, what is it? What’s wrong with it? Maybe it’s hungry?” I said.
“Give it a banana,” my roommate said.
I looked in the fridge. There was only old noodles with mold growing on them, half open can of government chicken with something green growing on it, an empty pickle jar, and packets of ketchup I had taken from a burger joint. There was also one whole onion that had been sitting in the bottom fridge drawer since I moved in a year ago.
I opened the pantry and saw zillions of ants infesting an open container of peanut butter I had forgot to lip up the night before. There was one packet of top ramen left, so I grabbed that and threw it in the cage. I also put a bowl of water in there quickly, in hopes the creature wouldn’t grab my arm and start eating it.

The feral monkey thing rammed the crunchy noodles into his mouth, swallowed it in one gulp, then grabbed some of the water with his claw like hands and lapped some up, then threw the bowl hard against the cage, spraying water all over us. Then it continued with it’s aggravating wild noises trying to chew and kick and punch it’s way from the locked cage.

“What are we going to do with it?” I asked my roomie.
He didn’t answer; He always did that, like he couldn’t hear me. IT would frustrate me.
So I yelled… “HEY!Space CASE! What are we going to do with this fuking thing!”
He just ignored me, shrugging his shoulders, staring at the wild beast, which was now thrashing about so badly in its cage, the whole thing was flipping over on all its sides.

“Fuk this, I’m calling the humane society or the cops, I want this thing out of my house, I don’t give a fuk what it is.”
I started heading for my phone when my roommate jumped up grabbed my arm and tossed me to the ground.

”What’s your fukin problem freak!” I yelled at him.
He just shrugged and let me get up.
“I asked you what is the fuk a matta with you!”
“I want to keep it, I want to teach it things, and I want to be its friend.”
“Fine you fukin lunatic, but just keep it locked in your room, keep my cat away from it, and don’t let anyone see it, got it!”
He just shrugged his shoulders and walked away. Now I was getting pissed off, so I grabbed him by the arm, saying…
“Did you hear me!?”
He just nodded his head and walked into his room where the creature was caged and locked his door.

That night as I tried to sleep, all I could hear was that dam feral animal human freak thing moaning, and squealing, eeeeking, oooooh aaaawwwwing…
I was a light sleeper, so I jumped out of bed, running into my roommates room, that was locked, but I kicked the door down, I had some duck tape in my hands. My roommate was just sitting Indian style on the floor smoking a joint and blowing the smoke into the creature’s cage.
I opened the padded lock to the cage and ripped a big piece of duck tape off….
“NO.NO, what are you doing, you will frighten her, she will attack you! Stop!” my crazy roommate tried to warn me.
“Fuk you, I’m gonna duck tape this mother fukers mouth shut so I can sleep.”
I struggled with the creature and we rolled around in its cage. It managed to sink one of it’s large decaying teeth into my arm, drawing blood. I punched it in the face a few times, knocking it out. Then I duck taped it’s mouth shut, tied its arms and legs up, locked the cage back up. I looked over at my roommate and he was crying.

“What’s your fuking problem, I’ll untie it and buy her some food after I wake up.”
My roommate stared at me an evil look.
“What!?” what!” say what’s on your mind mute boy!”
“If you ever abuse Loraine again, I swear to god, I will pluck your eyeballs out in the middle of the night with a corkscrew.” He told me, a dead serious look in his eyes.
“Loraine? Who the fuk is Loraine?”
“It’s the feral female creature in the cage you just abused and I think I’m falling in love with her.” “I want you out of my house within a week dude, you are a mute nut ball no job working psycho who has now threatened my life, one week freak boy, and take your new found love with you! Got it?” I screamed.
He shrugged his shoulders and mumbled…. “I can not teach a student of the universe who lives in bubbles made of conformity, there are refrigerators in all skies, in all trees, with radio waves that connect to all feral creatures, we were just lucky enough to find one.”
“Hey man, I don’t get you, don’t even want to, you need professional help. Just be gone by the end of the week.” I said, frustrated, heading back to bed.

Next day I had to go to work, like every other day. My entire life is on a work schedule for a low paying job. It is prison everyday just so if your lucky you get a paycheck that doesn’t even cover your bills. Poverty cannot be understood, unless one is poor.
All day long at work I wondered what was going on at my house with the feral thing we had found, I also worried about my increasingly insane roommate.

When I finally got home from work, I ran to the room where they were, but the cage was open and no sign of mute crazy man. I started to panic cause I couldn’t find my cat, my best friend. I ran around the house calling my cat’s name. Then he finally came walking out of a closet licking his paws after a probably 16-hour nap. Aww,, the life of a cat, they got it made. The bite mark on my arm was growing bigger; it began to ooze with yellow and brownish green pus. I wanted to go see a doctor, but was to frightened to find out what sick germ it may have infested in my body, so it just grew worse and worse.

I looked in my backyard and my roommate was running around the back yard with Loraine. He was naked but had glued some kind of fake brown fur all over his body. / He was throwing her a tennis ball, and she was running on her hands and knees and fetching it for him. It was really quite amazing. Every time she brought the ball back to him, he handed her a banana or a chunk of lettuce or a carrot. He was training her. He had a friend. He was falling in love; I could see it in his crazy eyes. It started to sicken me.

Loraine didn’t care for me much, and would growl and grunt when I got to close to her or my roommate. I heard them up late at night in bed together. He was reading her doctor Seuss books, smoking pot with her, feeding her apples, peaches, nuts and berries. I even began to hear odd almost retarded animal like grunts spewing from her hairy lips late at night. The entire thing seemed like some weird freak show dream that wouldn’t end.

The next day when I was leaving for work I told my roomy again that he had 2 days left to get out and to take that evil furry mutant with him.
“But I have no where to go, and I love Loraine.”
“Aint my problem, you have had three months to get a job, start packing dude.”

I got home from work that night and he had dressed Loraine in a flowered skirt and a pink spotted tight tank top. He was trying to teach her words from a children’s book. But all she did was grunt.

When Lorraine saw me walk in she went wild, making her koo koo noises and trying to attack me. My odd egg roommate pulled her off me.
“That’s it you fukin freaks, out tomorrow! Both of you!” I screamed, slamming my bedroom door. I heard them laughing and snorkeling like inbred farm animals. They were plotting against me all right. What a sick fuk my roommate was.

That night I heard what I thought were sexual animal noises coming from my roommate and Loraine’s room. I tried to block it out. It couldn’t be true. The mute couldn’t be that sick. But my curiosity got the best of me, so I peeked into his room, and he had the furry wild feral freak on all fours. He was fuking the shit out of her. She was making all these howling like animal monkey wolf noises. I ran to the toilet to vomit. I just couldn’t believe it. I felt so sick.

After hours of tossing and turning I finally got the horrible image from my mind and fell asleep, only to wake up with mute boy on top of me, with his knees pinning my shoulders down. I tried to fight, to scream, to yell, but he just held this corkscrew real close to my eyes, laughing at me. Lorraine was at the bottom of the bed, eating my toes off one by one, snarling, and drooling.

Then the roomie did it, he plunged the corkscrew into one of my eyeballs. I screamed out in pain, in horror, as he yanked my eyeball out feeding it to Lorraine. Then he rammed the corkscrew into my other eyeball, yanking it out. At that time, I passed out from shock. When I awoke, I was now in the feral Loraine’s cage, at least I think I was, cause I had no eyes to see. But it felt like the cage. My hands gripping the bars. My missing toes bleeding to death. I screamed out… “IS anyone here? Anyone! Help me!”
All I heard were the beastly sounds of Loraine and my psychotic roommate having heavy loud animalistic sex just outside my new cage. I wanted to close my eyes and wake up from this horror show of pain and fear, but I had no eyes to close. Then I heard them both orgasm as a dog down the street continued to bark from thirst.


Vaginas rule the world

Women come in many shapes
& many smells
some good,
like sweet nectarines,
freshly cooked cherry pies,
odd expensive perfumes,
Apple-scented lotions
crisp smell of a clean ocean’s light breeze
on a perfectly windy sunny day at 94 degrees

I’ve also known women
with vomit breath mixed with dog shit twats
women with molding salmon oozing out
during that bloody time of month
women with rotten scrambled egg smell wafting out
chicken like cart ledge dislodging
from blood yeasted brown hanging clits

vaginas are the great mystery of humanity
vaginas might even have brains
emotions, hungers, needs beyond sex,

I once knew a girl
Whose beautiful pussy
Smelled like burgers
Cooking on a barbecue
On a picnic
She stood next to all the other vaginas
& for some reason I wondered
what each one of those slitted soft warm
pussies smelled like.

I’ve smelled sweet and sour sauces
Odd stale flat beer foam froth

It must have been greatest gift to mankind
The thing between women’s legs

a normal man has a sexual thought 3 to 5 minutes
everyday, some have more….

I want to learn and smell more
More of these things
These things
called cunts,
camel toes,
givers of life,
sloppy buckets,
magnets filled with warm magical cream

one girl smelled like
fried onions
one like
hot fudges Sundays
some were unexplainable
as far as smell
cause some smells
Can’t be compared to any worldly

pussy amazes me
I wish I could smell them all day long
& write a book about what each one’s
fragrance was

This is science people!
I have never found a book written on the subject

Please send all women for testing, send picture first.
you will be paid, I have lots of money

To jellygun
P.o. box horny
Cow town, Texas



      "Nicholas Roger Morgan was born in St. Louis Missouri, moved to northern california, then to southern California, then to Michigan, where he lived all over the state, currently he lives in Brazos Valley, Texas. He is 33 years old."

published credits:

Unlikely Stories | Exquisite corpse | Driver's Side Airbag | Budget Press
the Adirondack Review | Anti Hero Art | Progress | Bardo Burner | Fiction and Poetry society | the ho!d | Saga | Tales from the Vault | Carved in Sand | Physikgarden | 3 A.M.Publishing | MindKites | The Blue Review
Beehive | The Sidewalks End | San Francisco Salvo | Mind Haven
Creative Voice | 7th Circle


grafitti messageboard

interview | website | JeLLyGuN Press | email | to forum | BACK
© 1998-2004 Nicholas Morgan / - all rights reserved
[ TOP ]