Yes, yes, yes, yes.
Last year I spent over $42,000 on suffering.
Why can’t I make them suffer? Voice of narcissist.
Shoot the cows full of estrogen, make the nine-year-old girls horny, make the boys not get horny till they are fifteen, then they tea bag, suck nuts, and smoke weed to make it worse.
America is the greatest country on the planet.
18,000 dead a year because of no health insurance.
Have three jobs, still not full-time.
Her twat bled, thank god, not pregnant.
Have baby, no money, but persist!
We march to the hospital in droves. We stare at babies. We take pictures of the babies. Then we are beaten and sent to prison.
The Bastille has returned.
Dregs butt-fucked, sucking cock, getting tattoos, learning hell, shank you with a tooth brush.
Turn on the Food Channel, kill the time kill the time kill the time kill the time kill the time kill the time kill the time focus on food it’s simple easy explainable!
Don’t examine the core.
The inner relations.
Don’t put things in context, shoot them dead!
Give the Time/Newsweek lobotomy!
Get drunk, ramble about how you care!
Don’t go to the laundry mat and goo goo while fingering yourself.
Sniff that coke, take that Oxy, throw down those pills. You’ve had a hard day at work, you deserve it.
Homeless crackhead: “I’m starving.”
Me: “I know you’re fucking starving, but I gotta get drunk with ten dollars.”
Get your dick sucked in a van for fifty dollars.
Prostitutes are independent contractors.
Factory workers are temp workers.
Three months, goodbye motherfucker, no health insurance or raise for you!
Go to this factory, pick up boxes, go fast or be fired, seven dollars an hour.
Examine rubber parts under magnifying glass for $6.50 an hour.
Too slow, fired!
Broke leg when twenty years old, cost forty thousand dollars, can’t pay back, no health insurance, ruined life.
Hit somebody with car, broke their leg, then sued, Denny’s cook, lost case, owe $500,000, life ruined.
The hammer comes down!
On my head, blood, brains, and genius scattered on floor.
Watch television, hear gunshots from porch.
Cameras in the projects.
Watching the movements.
At Denny’s, five in the morning, woman screaming: “My man just got shot. My man just got shot. Give me a cheeseburger.”
All this while government argues over Ten Commandments in courthouse in the south.
Shoes with holes.
Blistered fingers.
Bruised eyes.
The knees of a whore scarred from pavement.
The drug dealer shoots a man!
No laws here.
On television they argue in suits.
With nicely combed hair.
The pundits and politicians scream at each other, “Goo goo gaa gaa, goo goo gaa gaa!”
We listen hoping that someday they will mention humans, or at least speak with sentences that correspond with reality.
No we go on, we drink, fight, fuck.
Not a solution, but it will do for now.
Not enough accurate information.
All blogs, all sitcoms, all goo goo gaa gaa newspaper articles with flashy headlines.
Top stories:
Penguins fuck in movie theaters.
Famous actor cheats on wife even though he is actually gay.
Terrorist found putting mustard bombs in ham sandwiches.
Stripper warfare down on Market Street.
Breed the chickens, shoot them full of toxins, kill them, and serve them at the local fast food restaurant.
*
A man and woman are in their living room.
They have been dating for two years.
Had sex a million times, had a million laughs together, know each other’s dirty little secrets.
A usual relationship.
*
I saw regular people ruined by Youngstown, coked-up, pregnant, and imprisoned.
Who sat in her small living room sniffing coke nine months pregnant still dancing watching NBC because it was the only channel that came in clearly.
Who had seven miscarriages, two babies taken away, stoned, and will die by thirty because of a blood clot in her lungs because of being thrown through a window.
Who sold crack, shot a man, and went to prison.
Who sold coke, shot a man, and went to prison.
Who had sex with an asshole, got accused of rape by her mother, took a personality test, scored badly, and sent to prison for five years.
Who grew up with me, went to the Marines, became schizophrenic, and is now a crackhead.
Who I loved, gained weight, had a baby, and married out of tradition.
Who spent years in the mental ward, barely graduated, married, got stoned, sucked lawyer dick for money, and gave birth to a child they hate.
Who rose up from poverty to be a slumlord and bar owner, sniffed coke, married four times, and is drinking herself to death.
Who worshipped cowboys and moonshiners, who got stoned, graduated college, ran drugs, and now under ground.
Who grew up getting beat, is gay, who claimed bankruptcy, and has worked at the same factory for five years.
Who drank himself stupid, thought people liked him, hates the world, plays video games till sleeping, and won’t leave his house.
Who is four eleven, female, and drinks a fifth of V.O. every night.
Who rides his bike asking for three dollars to get one more rock to get through the day.
Who grew up eating hot dogs, watching her dad go from factory job to another, and now subdues her mind with dirty sex.
Who flunked out of college, who owes twenty thousand in bills, and can barely speak.
*
A man and woman are eating together.
Chinese takeout.
They sit across from each other at the kitchen table.
The woman talks and talks and talks.
Nothing she says matters.
The man has dated women who were quiet and spoke of things that mattered.
He misses those women.
But she is what he could find.
The woman talks: I had to do this, and she said that, and I was like betrayed, you know, and I’m trying so hard, but it never comes out right, because so and so, and I did this really well, did you see this movie, it was great, blah blah blah death.
The man responds with simple yes or no answers.
She doesn’t care.
The man stares at her and thinks while she blah blahs: Why doesn’t she take her clothes off, I’m only here because I want to fuck her, she doesn’t even ask me what my last name is, it is just blah blah blah, she can blah blah naked, I would let her talk her stupid head off while penetrating her, well, at least it is killing time. It is not like I have anything else to do.
So the man sat and she talked, and that was that.
*
This is how you get a shitty job.
For males:
Before your interview, don’t shave. Also, wear jeans.
Look like you really need money, like you need money so bad you can’t even afford a razor.
For females:
Make sure and notify them that you have a baby. If you don’t have a baby, wear shitty clothes.
And make sure to use the phrase, “I really need money.”
*
I like to get drunk.
And listen to folk blues men like Robert Johnson, Big Bill Broonzy, and Lead Belly.
When I’m drunk listening to them.
I don’t feel alone.
They didn’t have no money either.
They were assholes too. They drank, smoked, and had good times in bars.