OK…
So I just got a call from carol saying that I was texting her boyfriend during tonight’s drug addled blogging. Which is odd because I didn’t think I had his number, so I am evidently calling 411 to get numbers of new people to call and freak out in the moments before I pass out. I’m starting to think it’s time to lock the cellphone away before I really start contacting people that will definitely mandate my killing myself after.
I think Laura and Jenna Bush are hiding in my guest bathoom. She doesn’t her father to find her and make her marry that guy. Thereeeee iiinnnn thhheeererere!
April 23rd, 2008 at 1:26 am
Crack is whack!
April 23rd, 2008 at 1:31 am
For once, I agree with Casca.
Lay off the pipe!
April 23rd, 2008 at 1:38 am
I hope you didn’t pass out before Denny and Allen did their SCOTUS gig. Man that RBG beast was as ugly as the real thing. Gotta love Denny, fuck the case, it’s all about me. With that, several jiggers of gin, and a half bottle of red, it’s Alpha Michael Foxtrot.
April 23rd, 2008 at 6:10 am
We all wonder what you’re like irl, casca…so would you say Denny is a good model?
I have no recollection about writing this post and ordinarily it would be deleted by now, but we have comments and we like comments! I’m not even sure the content of this post is true…i mean the part about Karol, not jenna, jenna is totally hiding from that guy.
April 23rd, 2008 at 9:32 am
change it to a “K” before I beat you to death.
April 23rd, 2008 at 11:13 am
Hee! As I read I thought “I’m pretty sure that she has F-Train’s phone number…” But now it is even better. No edits allowed to drug-blogging!
April 23rd, 2008 at 12:08 pm
I saw Jenna on the Today show or something talking about her guy, and how he’s so great because “he really encourages me to be everything he would want me to be.”
Poor girl.
April 23rd, 2008 at 12:29 pm
You’d be a babbling twit too, if you’d spent the night in Dawn’s bathroom.
April 23rd, 2008 at 1:03 pm
hahahahah…zing! you’re on fire today, casca! no, really…call 911. Also I love that these incoherent, possibly entirely made up ramblings get more comments than any of the crap I post on here. Nice.
April 23rd, 2008 at 2:23 pm
Let’s see, am I like Denny Crain…
Oversexed, check.
Smoke cigars, check.
Drink single malt, check.
Clarity of thought, check.
At bottom totally self-absorbed, who isn’t.
Bloated from riotous living, not really.
A conservative parody, nah.
A much-discerning Public hold
The Singer generally sings
Of personal and private things,
And prints and sells his past for gold.
Whatever I may here disclaim,
The very clever folk I sing to
Will most indubitably cling to
Their pet delusion, just the same.
I had seen, as the dawn was breaking
And I staggered to my rest,
Tari Devi softly shaking
From the Cart Road to the crest.
I had seen the spurs of Jakko
Heave and quiver, swell and sink.
Was it Earthquake or tobacco,
Day of Doom, or Night of Drink?
In the full, fresh fragrant morning
I observed a camel crawl,
Laws of gravitation scorning,
On the ceiling and the wall;
Then I watched a fender walking,
And I heard grey leeches sing,
And a red-hot monkey talking
Did not seem the proper thing.
Then a Creature, skinned and crimson,
Ran about the floor and cried,
And they said that I had the “jims” on,
And they dosed me with bromide,
And they locked me in my bedroom –
Me and one wee Blood Red Mouse –
Though I said: “To give my head room
You had best unroof the house.”
But my words were all unheeded,
Though I told the grave M.D.
That the treatment really needed
Was a dip in open sea
That was lapping just below me,
Smooth as silver, white as snow,
And it took three men to throw me
When I found I could not go.
Half the night I watched the Heavens
Fizz like ’81 champagne –
Fly to sixes and to sevens,
Wheel and thunder back again;
And when all was peace and order
Save one planet nailed askew,
Much I wept because my warder
Would not let me sit it true.
After frenzied hours of wating,
When the Earth and Skies were dumb,
Pealed an awful voice dictating
An interminable sum,
Changing to a tangled story –
“What she said you said I said” –
Till the Moon arose in glory,
And I found her . . . in my head;
Then a Face came, blind and weeping,
And It couldn’t wipe its eyes,
And It muttered I was keeping
Back the moonlight from the skies;
So I patted it for pity,
But it whistled shrill with wrath,
And a huge black Devil City
Poured its peoples on my path.
So I fled with steps uncertain
On a thousand-year long race,
But the bellying of the curtain
Kept me always in one place;
While the tumult rose and maddened
To the roar of Earth on fire,
Ere it ebbed and sank and saddened
To a whisper tense as wire.
In tolerable stillness
Rose one little, little star,
And it chuckled at my illness,
And it mocked me from afar;
And its breathren came and eyed me,
Called the Universe to aid,
Till I lay, with naught to hide me,
‘Neath’ the Scorn of All Things Made.
Dun and saffron, robed and splendid,
Broke the solemn, pitying Day,
And I knew my pains were ended,
And I turned and tried to pray;
But my speech was shattered wholly,
And I wept as children weep.
Till the dawn-wind, softly, slowly,
Brought to burning eyelids sleep.
~Kipling
April 23rd, 2008 at 3:03 pm
I absolutely GUARANTEE that noone read close to even half of that poem just now. (Maybe now they’ll go back and read it, but that doesn’t count.)
Know your audience.
April 23rd, 2008 at 4:27 pm
LOL, your mistake Fisch is thinking I care.
April 23rd, 2008 at 4:39 pm
Not only did nobody read the poem, but Dawn is pissed that it wasn’t posted a verse at a time.
April 23rd, 2008 at 5:40 pm
There once was a man from Nantucket
whose dick was so long he could suck it.
As he wiped off his chin,
he said with a grin,
“If my ear were a cunt I would fuck it.”
(I just felt the need to bring the literary value of this comment thread back down where it belongs. This is an R-rated blog, after all.)
April 23rd, 2008 at 5:41 pm
Oh, also, I guarantee you everyone read my poem. Except maybe Dawn. On second thought, I guarantee you Dawn did not read my poem.
April 23rd, 2008 at 6:32 pm
Um, I was really confused too because I never call you. I think I may have texted you once. But that’s when I ratted you out to F-Train.