i woke today like i do everyday—-with cold sweat and boner.
when i remembered that i had nobody to share it with, i woke up
wiped my brow and inhaled stale bread before work.

easy day today–12 hours in the sun.
you can call me lobster-boy from now on.
i love being an Irish fuck, but we hate the sun when it burns us (which is always).
here is where i pose a question for anybody smarter than me:
when is it acceptable to treat someone like shit when you are “worried” about them?

does that not defeat the whole fucking purpose of worrying?
fucking idiots that surround me, smother me with illness.
lots have happened to me in the last week—too much to name,
except to say that i am overwhelimingly upset at the past week.
i want to kill it, then stomp on its mother.

shoulda had an abortion, while the abortion-gettin was good.

they should make a def squad of folks who are sick of pro-lifers.
i’d call them the pro-life killin squad. we all know that a squad of any sort is the shit.

wouldn’t that just fuck up the right-wing?
“killing is wrong!! it says so in (insert book of lies here)”
what i wouldn’t give to have been the kid whose parents watched jimmy swaggert when he broke down and admitted fucking that whore.
i would’ve jumped up—threw my book of lies in the fireplace, and danced around with horns on my head.

as it was, the church i went to had their own little crisis—it was great.
pastor was fucking one of the deacons wives after church, when he was at some church meeting.

way to go, role model!!

i feel like the world is trying to sucker me into choosing sides.
“join our side, we fight for the right of the family!”
i don’t have a family—i have a fist of determination.
“join our side, we are for the right of the individual!!”
if you are an individual, why are you in a group? jerkass.
“join our team–we will save the planet!”
get the fuck away from me before i take your love beads and shove them up your ass.
‘join the hippies’ —my god would love that one.
hell–maybe i should do that, just so i could bring em down from the inside.

i joined a few teams before—and look at me now.
bitter, cold, pissed-off, and a fistful of rage batting second.
the side i choose is my own.
i’ve seen too much to do anything else.
i’ve done too much to change my way, although a partner in mayhem would be acceptable.
mayhem is where i am a god.
i should invent this place called “mayhem: population -me”

so many thoughts to throw up, but i never have the time that i would like.
maybe i will give you all some more diarrhea tonight, after i drown myself, and my inhibitions.
alcohol is my catalyst to greatness.
want to see what a good idea looks like?

cheers.