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A Summarized Samurai Saga, Part...um...Five. With a frosty, please. What's my total? Thanks!
Bits of fragmentated conversation coming from the front. Toward the dawning light of morning bright.
From the back. Blackness that way. Behind the veil that set the stale and stagnant, smelly yes and even sweltering....
Smell
Or whatever Hell prevades the air here.
Inducing. Dizzy dudes seen!
Curtains curse them.
"Clam diggers or samurais, they're all dancing to the tambourine."
He leaned in and whispered, "It's a scam..."
"Ramrodding," he went on, as he turned a fan on, "through the legislature they fed us satiated fate. In the name of safety. It rattles me. Am I prattling?"
Taxi Driver Blow in the battlefield. A great geek tragedy.
I savaged the savagery in a matter of seconds I could name it down to the millionth of a molecular fission derision or what you might call the vision....
What? Wait.
What is this?
I woke up. I come to as it were next to some bum. Or wait. That was my girlfriend.
Um.
Don't bury me yet
But shovel that dirt on me
I like it dirty
Word up
Okay
It's always the same
You ask the same question
"Are you insane?"
No
I'm nosing the plane down a degree
I'm a captain folks, please remain calm in your seats
Your attendants will soon be by with the peanuts. I mean it. Whatever.
Enjoy the flight.
Remember...
"It's always the same question when I'm flying" is our motto at Tweeked Out and Dying Airlines.
Tell your fellow shell of a man. Well actually, our motto is - Our Sinus Cavities Are Finally Annihilated From Snortin Vile Shit Up It - A Bump Or Two Or Three Four - Some Fell Out and Hit the Floor Airways and carpet crawling turns Into Getting Fucked In the.
Um Nothing.
Nothing.
It uh included a stray mutt (it's a long story) so please do cut the crap y'all stay off the drugs old yeller Is humping me I take a doodoo, it ain't funny stop laughing.
This is life in Oklahoma.
Or uh. Wherever I am. Wandering with wide wondering eyes.
TMI? lolz
It's scary y'all Hairy Balls Floppin Against My Ass I wonder Did He Get His Last Shots? No Collar.
Probably not popped.
Drugs are bad. They ARE over rated. Actually they are great. I love them. Mmmmm. Uhhhh. Ohhhh ya. Fuckin uhhhh. God yes. What? Fuck, I'm busy, quit harassing me...
"Are you insane?"
No.
You fucking jack asses - I'm jacking off since you ask. It's not a felony...well you better not tell on me. If you bail on me now I'll send your family those pictures. Ya, you gum up the works now, I'm gonna pull the heavy guns out. To sum it up - you plus one equals one. You with your thumb up.
Hitchhiking? Nah bitch. Your thumb up some hole in a bum's butt.
Remember? Yup. But you barely do. You fucking mutt. You were Xanid out and your little panic attack having ass was all calm you manifest Santa's magic.
He's a manic depressive. Because of you he quit making lists. He got arrested his list of crimes were described by the Courts as post dramatic stress induced by you, you mother fucking mother you fucking you destroyed Christmas, you devil. He checked his naughty list ONCE bitch. Not once since.
Ya, I'm crying. He saw what you did and he came undone you fucking thumb in the butt of a random thrusting slit. Who does that? For Christ's sake! You fucking stuck your thumb up a man's butt and then....
Oh God. You lubed up a strangers strange black cock with your spit, you stupid slit, you attacked it and choked on it.
Garbled some nonsense and gobbled with a gurgle, giggling like an innocent girl (you're anything but) you backed up.
Thumb still in play and whatnot, whoever got it they get got. In it to win it unprovoked you went back at like a soldier. You sold your soul this ain't no playground. Well...
The tune of some Bob Dylan groove still in your head - I assume. Your thumb smelling of poo - this I knew well, cause you stuck it in my nose and made me. Well, we met halfway. I fell down.
You went to town.
Your head bobbing. Things throbbing. All sorts of various fluids emerging from blurry depths. The fleshy glistening mounds.
You licked your lips, panting like a doggy anticipating a treat.
You slobbered on it.
His friend's throbbing black cock. Savoring all of it. Your face was elated as it pulsated. It erupted and you ate it, you mopped it all up.
Congratulations! You now have HIV. No? Okay...full blown AIDs. Sorry about the mix up. It was a hiccup.
Or I dunno. That's how we scared in the 90s. Now you just take a pill.
Pull up a chair. Lay back. Relax.
Let's keep flying the friendly skies, guided by my instrunment panel.
Honestly I'm flummoxed. No, not by the bum that you thumb fucked, you butt fucker, it's all these blinking lights and switches that they provided me. See I went to pilot school...
But I mostly just stared blankly ahead at the wall.
Wait, where's Waldo?
I think maybe I never even made it past eighth grade. Oh that's right! I got kidnapped and...I thought I passed school. But no. I took a hit off a joint or maybe a Marlboro Light 100 and fuckin passed out. In a kidnappers house. Actually they were nice. Mr and Mrs Kiniper.
I woke just now.
Wow. I'm blasted.
Who are you people? Why is my dick numb? Why are demons whispering sweet nothings in my ear? Does anybody know? Oh. Shadows arent people. I see. I'm sorry to keep you. One last question though...
Why are these doggy dick pics in my phone and are you just a whisp of nothing or a gnome?
I'm in a numb state in a planet where I'm all alone but crowded in. What State is this? Kentucky? What a dumb state. Never heard of it. But. What. You fuckin diseased creeps are fuckin me up.
I'm solid. My composure is composed of a prose of a kind I kind of don't know why I keep going I made up my mind this is made up I stayed up three days and all decency went out the window the minute I fuckin lit the crack pipe does that make me a bad guy?
Correction.
Error.
There's a glitch in my programing.
Irrelevant. I itch for the Hell of it, Hell if I know if it's televised. These speakers are telling me things like, "there's cameras filming me scream" and the rash that I find growing is the itch source or the source of the itch, of course the porous leakage is annoying. Gross. I feel accutely aware of it.
Now I'm scared.
I think we're about to die. We are veering down in degrees that degrade all possible floating.
Fucking dead.
Captain's Log. Star Date 50.76
It is dark in here, my degree from DeVry cannot be seen. I am seeing things. My every move it seems to be tracked by a tracksuit wearing dude standing over my chair. Indeed he is looming me. trying to pry into my set up, my October notes, he will die now I will find my way.
I am a nocturnal being I can see in the dark and I will beat him to death with my own two fists.
Then kill them all. All the passengers.
Oh wait. It's the co-pilot. Is that you, Jim. You fat ass bastard! I thought your ass stayed at the track, you ass crack. Did your horse win? Rack it up, you degenerate gambler. Fuckin loser. You lost it all. No kids college fund now?
Well - ya done fucked up. You are an up fuck dandy diddling chronic gambler.
No amber.
The silver lining?
You can take over and I'll sit my ratty little tatted ass down
My chair is reclining
Imagine just that
Just rationalizing my elevation declining it is marked, yes we are falling
Down
Folks we are on a death roll
feet gristle
Cluck like a chicken
Suck on a cock's rooster balls
Skeet skeet
Like a heat seekin missle
Mistletoe
Missed her by...two dimensions
Born
Fiddle around get all cuddly
It's always the same
Shoot up and rude awakening
You're an ugly punk with no ambition OR compatibility
Boring, it's always the same
You do a bunch of stupid "adult stuff"
You get old
Florida Trail
© JacobAlive
From the back. Blackness that way. Behind the veil that set the stale and stagnant, smelly yes and even sweltering....
Smell
Or whatever Hell prevades the air here.
Inducing. Dizzy dudes seen!
Curtains curse them.
"Clam diggers or samurais, they're all dancing to the tambourine."
He leaned in and whispered, "It's a scam..."
"Ramrodding," he went on, as he turned a fan on, "through the legislature they fed us satiated fate. In the name of safety. It rattles me. Am I prattling?"
Taxi Driver Blow in the battlefield. A great geek tragedy.
I savaged the savagery in a matter of seconds I could name it down to the millionth of a molecular fission derision or what you might call the vision....
What? Wait.
What is this?
I woke up. I come to as it were next to some bum. Or wait. That was my girlfriend.
Um.
Don't bury me yet
But shovel that dirt on me
I like it dirty
Word up
Okay
It's always the same
You ask the same question
"Are you insane?"
No
I'm nosing the plane down a degree
I'm a captain folks, please remain calm in your seats
Your attendants will soon be by with the peanuts. I mean it. Whatever.
Enjoy the flight.
Remember...
"It's always the same question when I'm flying" is our motto at Tweeked Out and Dying Airlines.
Tell your fellow shell of a man. Well actually, our motto is - Our Sinus Cavities Are Finally Annihilated From Snortin Vile Shit Up It - A Bump Or Two Or Three Four - Some Fell Out and Hit the Floor Airways and carpet crawling turns Into Getting Fucked In the.
Um Nothing.
Nothing.
It uh included a stray mutt (it's a long story) so please do cut the crap y'all stay off the drugs old yeller Is humping me I take a doodoo, it ain't funny stop laughing.
This is life in Oklahoma.
Or uh. Wherever I am. Wandering with wide wondering eyes.
TMI? lolz
It's scary y'all Hairy Balls Floppin Against My Ass I wonder Did He Get His Last Shots? No Collar.
Probably not popped.
Drugs are bad. They ARE over rated. Actually they are great. I love them. Mmmmm. Uhhhh. Ohhhh ya. Fuckin uhhhh. God yes. What? Fuck, I'm busy, quit harassing me...
"Are you insane?"
No.
You fucking jack asses - I'm jacking off since you ask. It's not a felony...well you better not tell on me. If you bail on me now I'll send your family those pictures. Ya, you gum up the works now, I'm gonna pull the heavy guns out. To sum it up - you plus one equals one. You with your thumb up.
Hitchhiking? Nah bitch. Your thumb up some hole in a bum's butt.
Remember? Yup. But you barely do. You fucking mutt. You were Xanid out and your little panic attack having ass was all calm you manifest Santa's magic.
He's a manic depressive. Because of you he quit making lists. He got arrested his list of crimes were described by the Courts as post dramatic stress induced by you, you mother fucking mother you fucking you destroyed Christmas, you devil. He checked his naughty list ONCE bitch. Not once since.
Ya, I'm crying. He saw what you did and he came undone you fucking thumb in the butt of a random thrusting slit. Who does that? For Christ's sake! You fucking stuck your thumb up a man's butt and then....
Oh God. You lubed up a strangers strange black cock with your spit, you stupid slit, you attacked it and choked on it.
Garbled some nonsense and gobbled with a gurgle, giggling like an innocent girl (you're anything but) you backed up.
Thumb still in play and whatnot, whoever got it they get got. In it to win it unprovoked you went back at like a soldier. You sold your soul this ain't no playground. Well...
The tune of some Bob Dylan groove still in your head - I assume. Your thumb smelling of poo - this I knew well, cause you stuck it in my nose and made me. Well, we met halfway. I fell down.
You went to town.
Your head bobbing. Things throbbing. All sorts of various fluids emerging from blurry depths. The fleshy glistening mounds.
You licked your lips, panting like a doggy anticipating a treat.
You slobbered on it.
His friend's throbbing black cock. Savoring all of it. Your face was elated as it pulsated. It erupted and you ate it, you mopped it all up.
Congratulations! You now have HIV. No? Okay...full blown AIDs. Sorry about the mix up. It was a hiccup.
Or I dunno. That's how we scared in the 90s. Now you just take a pill.
Pull up a chair. Lay back. Relax.
Let's keep flying the friendly skies, guided by my instrunment panel.
Honestly I'm flummoxed. No, not by the bum that you thumb fucked, you butt fucker, it's all these blinking lights and switches that they provided me. See I went to pilot school...
But I mostly just stared blankly ahead at the wall.
Wait, where's Waldo?
I think maybe I never even made it past eighth grade. Oh that's right! I got kidnapped and...I thought I passed school. But no. I took a hit off a joint or maybe a Marlboro Light 100 and fuckin passed out. In a kidnappers house. Actually they were nice. Mr and Mrs Kiniper.
I woke just now.
Wow. I'm blasted.
Who are you people? Why is my dick numb? Why are demons whispering sweet nothings in my ear? Does anybody know? Oh. Shadows arent people. I see. I'm sorry to keep you. One last question though...
Why are these doggy dick pics in my phone and are you just a whisp of nothing or a gnome?
I'm in a numb state in a planet where I'm all alone but crowded in. What State is this? Kentucky? What a dumb state. Never heard of it. But. What. You fuckin diseased creeps are fuckin me up.
I'm solid. My composure is composed of a prose of a kind I kind of don't know why I keep going I made up my mind this is made up I stayed up three days and all decency went out the window the minute I fuckin lit the crack pipe does that make me a bad guy?
Correction.
Error.
There's a glitch in my programing.
Irrelevant. I itch for the Hell of it, Hell if I know if it's televised. These speakers are telling me things like, "there's cameras filming me scream" and the rash that I find growing is the itch source or the source of the itch, of course the porous leakage is annoying. Gross. I feel accutely aware of it.
Now I'm scared.
I think we're about to die. We are veering down in degrees that degrade all possible floating.
Fucking dead.
Captain's Log. Star Date 50.76
It is dark in here, my degree from DeVry cannot be seen. I am seeing things. My every move it seems to be tracked by a tracksuit wearing dude standing over my chair. Indeed he is looming me. trying to pry into my set up, my October notes, he will die now I will find my way.
I am a nocturnal being I can see in the dark and I will beat him to death with my own two fists.
Then kill them all. All the passengers.
Oh wait. It's the co-pilot. Is that you, Jim. You fat ass bastard! I thought your ass stayed at the track, you ass crack. Did your horse win? Rack it up, you degenerate gambler. Fuckin loser. You lost it all. No kids college fund now?
Well - ya done fucked up. You are an up fuck dandy diddling chronic gambler.
No amber.
The silver lining?
You can take over and I'll sit my ratty little tatted ass down
My chair is reclining
Imagine just that
Just rationalizing my elevation declining it is marked, yes we are falling
Down
Folks we are on a death roll
feet gristle
Cluck like a chicken
Suck on a cock's rooster balls
Skeet skeet
Like a heat seekin missle
Mistletoe
Missed her by...two dimensions
Born
Fiddle around get all cuddly
It's always the same
Shoot up and rude awakening
You're an ugly punk with no ambition OR compatibility
Boring, it's always the same
You do a bunch of stupid "adult stuff"
You get old
Florida Trail
© JacobAlive
