“When
you’re alone & life is making you lonely you can always go..Downtown.” –
Petula Clark
Everyone
likes to forget all their troubles & forget all their cares, & since
I’m one of everyone (kinda sorta), I decided to take a trip down the rabbit
hole. I’m sorry, did I say “down
the rabbit hole”? I meant “downtown”.
Of course, the bus stops service up the street ‘round six to nine
evenin’, ‘en so? Since it’s
currently ‘bout four-twenty mornin’, I’m gonna need a special tokin’. Good thing I’ve got one left then,
idn’it?
She’s
a cold one out there, so I put on my pooka-skin babushka & headed out for
the wormhole. I’m sorry, did I say
“wormhole”? I meant “bus stop”.
Caught route 2.2 right on time.
Took my place with the troublemakers at the back of the bus.
Gotta
love the bumpy ride and the surrealistic view out the big windows. I feel like
a god with no control, looking at the creation of what I’ve created. My stomach
is sickened and my prostrate is stimulated. If I had three hands, I’d stick one finger down my throat
& another up my ass, while I toss a load in my puke. I feel alive. I’m sorry, did I just say that?
“In
the fullness of another world, there is no emptiness.” – Blue Oyster Cult
As
the bus dissipates upon arrival, I stand alone in the dreamscape. You know how that goes: everything
isn’t like anything, but it’s all the same, just different. It was there that I recognized the man
in the rain-slicked yellow coat: the motherfucking Gorton’s fisherman. My newfound friends warned me about him,
but since I’m growing my winter beard, I thought we could all just get
along. I was wrong.
“Hey
man, in what kinda choppy waters do you catch minced fish?”, I say. At the mere
mention of minced fish, his eyes rose & glared into mine, glowing the hellish
emptiness of a hollow soul. He
cold-cloca’d me in the kung-fu parking lot. He dragged me into the alley behind Sly’s Midtown Saloon
& attempted to sodomize me.
Science be praised for the lakeside chill that snapped me out of my
violent slumber. It was then that
I saw the horror, with the echoes of friendly warnings echoing in my throbbing
skull.
He
wore nothing under the raincoat, which he spread open before me like an angry
god parts an ocean. I aimed my
stunned gaze at an ocean of ice-cold hairy wrath. His beard was replicated on his chest, squirming nipples
stuck out, waving & squirming like milky worms. His beard was replicated once again upon his groin, gross
genitalia writhing out at me with an air of angry arousal, an uncircumcised
cock of uncut calamari, with a beak-like helmet oozing the black ink of joyless
insatiable satyriasis.
“The
horror, the horror.” - Colonel Kurtz
“I
fall off the edge of my mind.” – Britney Spears.
To
be continued..
