Shooting the Shit

Here we go.

The same old response.

Again.

First,
they say,
I'd grab
the nearest
hottest
piece of ass
and fuck her brains
out.

Then,
I'd take
all
the liquor
and drink it
all at once.

I'd might even
kill someone.

Just to do it.

Just to see what it felt like.

The same,
the same.

Yes,
the plane
would go down
in flames
and everyone would die
and he'd have
the hugest erection ever.

Yadda, yadda, yadda.

Just once,
I'd love it
if someone
actually surprised me.

Say,
instead of a woman,
they would
suck on some
balls,
sober,
and then,
took a dump
on all
the liquor.

So if anybody wanted to
get drunk,
they'd have to
shoot shit.

Then,
say,
nobody dies
and there's one guy,
who has shit
on his mouth,
and it was the guy
telling you
he'd die
with the hugest erection.

That.

Now that,
is what
I call original.

Not the same old
predictable shit
these men
try
and pull off.

Again and again.

I'm Going

All of my heroes
took a chance
where there was
none.

All of my heroes
left
what they called
home.

To become
themselves.

To become
heroes.

All of them
didn't listen to
those voices
that told them
no.

You can't do this.

What if you die?

Some did.

Some survived.

Some
were never heard from
again.

They all
are inspiring me.

They all
are calling me.

Out
onto
the road
of the unknown.

A New Belief

I can't wait
to see
their faces.

Crying
and in
shock.

I'll be there
at
my own funeral.

Laughing
and thrusting
all those tears
right off
all their cheeks.

To me,
it will all be
one big joke.

Again.

Just as life was.

Not so much
for them.

They believe in
the devil.

They believe in
hell.

They must
want
people to suffer.

As far as
I'm concerned,
everyone
will be set
free
from all
of their beliefs.

All they have to do is
die.

All that will be left
is freedom.

Freedom
to roam
and go to
your own funeral.

If you wish.

We can both
fuck with all these
devil worshipers.

Then move on
into
another dimension.

Where there are no
jail cells
or
cops
or
bills
or
dirty dishes.

Just everlasting jokes.

A Pimp and His Lady

Is that
really him?

I wasn't sure.

You never can tell.

Some people
go out of their way
to be
someone else.

But,
there he was,
Carlos Santana.

At a bar,
with a Santana cover band.

He wasn't playing.

He wasn't drunk,

He was picking up
our empty beer bottles
and taking them
to the bartender.

He was a good busser.

We watched him
for awhile.

After a couple more beers,
we asked him.

I don't remember his reply.

I don't think he
really responded.

I didn't care.

I just wanted him
to dance
with my woman.

I was a pimp.

Carlos was a trick.

He paid me
with a smile.

My lady and I
went on
to the next bar.

Hoping for
a lil bit
more than he was
offering.

Where Did it All Go?

Your whole life's
ruined.

Your home's falling
apart.

Your love's
dead.

Your inside's
rotting.

Dying of old age
way too young.

Barely getting up
and when you do,
there's the bottle,
pills,
shitty food,
and an obscene amount
of tv.

This is
the life
of someone
who does not
love
themselves.

This is
the root
of all evil.

This is
the way
you live
your life
everyday.

Expecting miracles.

They'll never come.

Not
for
you.

A Threat

It was in
a black box.

Shinning
in the sun,
minding its own
business.

Someone noticed it.

They immediately
called the cops.

You see,
this is the
happiest place
in America
and we can't have
any
sort of suspicious activity.

The cops put down
their donuts
and raced over.

Sirens warning the whole city.

They said,
it's a bomb.

Swat came next.

Millions of dollars
spent
to protect
our lovely lil city.

They got the box,
prepared to diffuse.

That's when
they heard,
not a ticking,
but a hard
thump.

The cops, the swat,
and all of San Luis
watched
as they opened
the box.

Expecting
the
worse.

To our surprise,
there was no
explosion.

A sigh of relief.

It was just
a dildo.

The happiest place
in America
still safe.

For now.