goodness gracious great balls of fire

I could kill him. I should kill him. That fucking guido mother fucker. He doesn't deserve to live. I can taste his pompous self-worshipping attitude whenever I see him. He exudes that caveman complex I despise. He's a goddamn monkey. He acts like a "thug" even though he's from a middle-class family and wears Abercrombie and Fitch and Ed Hardy, he is the moronic drone of society. Acting like everyone else acts, does not impress me, does not even catch my attention so much. But this character he takes the fucking cake. He is the complete image of a tool. Dripping with superficialities, I couldnt even start to put my hate for him into words. You think your so fucking awesome, your better than everyone else.

Shit, I'll take an aluminum bat and erase that smug look right off his face. The second he sees me and notices the seriousness in my face and my presence, I see his confidence melt away, like one of those shitty teenage wannabe drug dealers who act like they dont give a shit then as soon as they hear sirens they're pissing their pants. He's not a man. He's a boy. I tell him its over and that there's no need to resist. But the funny thing is I want him to resist, I want him to fight back. As he's backing away from me saying things like, "what's your problem man?" STILL trying to look tough even though his voice is cracking and his eyes are starting to get watery, it takes all the enthusiasm, all the emotion, all the fun out of it. Even though I can think of all these reasons why I hate him, watchin him there I just didnt have the motive, the fire burning inside me to actually be so brutal. I guess I'm just an old fashioned nice guy like that. So I stop my slow advances towards him. I put the bat down. And I just stand there, kinda just looking at him. Not with the hateful, murderous eyes I had before, but more of a sympathetic look. I still had no respect for him, but I think I now had more of an understanding of him. He's just a vulnerable kid, whos just as scared of livin' and dyin' as all of us are.

That's when he looked around, smiled a jerky lookin smile and started pumping his arms up while shouting to everyone around, "that's right baby, you can't stop Diesel, not even with a weapon this mothafucka can't stop this!" I was almost schocked. I picked up that bat and hurled it at him. It rotated fully two times before hitting him in the temple with the fatter end. He went down so smooth and easy. It was at that point I picked up the bat once more and stood over him, mashing the knob-end into his face, breaking all of his teeth. He kept spitting a couple out every few seconds when he could catch a breath in between cries for help. After continuing this motion for some time, (at that point it all became kind of a blur) I stopped and turned the bat around, observing it in great detail. It was covered in blood. Looked down at the boy's face. It didn't look human anymore, it was purple and red and puffed up and caved in all over. I just remained still, staring down at his body. I didn't know if he was still alive at the time. I didn't really care. I looked up. There were people standing all around, staring. But no one really seemed too concerned, or upset. They were just watchin' i think. I clasped the bat tightly in my hands at the handle, my hands now covered in blood. And I took probably five more hard swings right into his stomach, and one more crack right into his throat. It made a squishing sound. Like when my mom used to make death by chocolate cake and would ask me to crush a bunch of oreos in a paper bag with my fist. I then calmly dropped the bat for the last time, looked up at the crowd, and said, "Have a good weekend everybody." And walked away.

Man, that guy was such a dick though, you know what I mean?

there has never been a better time

there has never been a better time,
to take a trip on somebody else's dime,
to take a sip of a budlight lime,
to make mike mad by having my poem rhyme,
to take a swig of a gin and coke,
to realize your job is one big joke,
to sit on your porch and observe other folk,
then lean back in your chair and have a smoke.

regression

lately sometimes i feel like i might go back,
back to the days of snow,
always being cold,
shivering,
being out in the distance,
alone,
in a sea of white velvet,
lost contact with everyone who once cared.


utter and complete silence.


but always thinking you heard that sound,
THAT DAMN SOUND!
there it is again,
i know i heard it,
i must be losing my fucking mind,
but
its there, right?

oh yeah,
nevermind,
this is winter,
this is a time for being hypnotized by that white revolving blizzard,
and being cold and alone,
HA!
the 'innocence' of that fucking snow,
how i loathe that goddamn snow,
what it does to me,
and everyone playing in it,
they think they know what they're getting themselves into,
they have no clue about these times yet,
just wait til the tundra catches up to them,
then they'll really know what its like,
to be lost,
face through to brain on fire from the lack of feeling,
no emotion where a warm smile once lay.
walking,
as far as one needs to walk,
just to collapse into a white blanket,
it looks so good,
and it is,
for a while.
but once you get up,
you look back,
and you hate yourself,
only to do it all over again every time.
just because you wana be a dumb kid again,
and not grow up.

crazy times were the days of the snow,
makes the good times sweeter i suppose,
wait,
why would i even wana go back to days like that?
i dont know,
i dont know.

The Life and Death of A Ceiling Fan

Click.


oven.


table.


refrigerator.

wall.

oven.
table.
refrigerator.
wall.
oven, table, refrigerator, wall,
oven, table, refrigerator, wall,
oven,table,refrigerator,wall,
oven table refrigerator wall
oventablerefrigeratorwall
oventablerefrigeratorwalloventablerefrigeratorwalloventablerefrigeratorwalloventablerefrigeratorwalloventablerefrigeratorwall.
Click.
oven,table,refrigerator,wall,
oven. table. refrigerator. wall.
oven.
table.
refrigerator.
wall.
oven.
table.

refrigerator.

wall..


oven...



table...





refrigerator.

Working in Retail vs. Being in Hell

Advantages of Retail over Hell:
1. Air Conditioning year round (good in the summer...)
2. You get paid slightly more in retail
3. You can show up late, and you can go home when your done
4. You don't really have to listen to your superiors
5. You don't have to work very hard
6. You can fuck around and get away with not actually doing your job a good amount of the time

Advantages of Hell over Retail:
1. In retail they have the A/C going all year roundddd including winter
2. You deal with kinder people in hell
3. Less torturous
4. There's not as many screaming/crying children running around
5. It's probably less boring
6. And I'd say you most likely get more respect from people in hell

And it's probably equally crowded at times, and you probably still feel like shit and useless either one your at. And most of the people I've encountered in my days workin in retail are going to end up in Hell anyway most likely.. so I'd say they're about equal. Even synonymous if you will.

In short, Fuck Party City.

Eyes that look like yours shouldn't cry.

I'm always sad.. but i've learned to deal with it. I'm comfortable with it. I probably deserve to feel that way anyway. It's become part of who I am and it's not even so hard to live with anymore. that doesn’t matter….

But you shouldn't feel that way. You should be happy, your perfect and wonderful and pleasant, and good girls like you don't deserve to cry. And just because you have a self-centered asshole drug addict brother and parents with shitty priorities and no class doesn't mean your gonna be a failure.

I wish I could show you for just a second how you make me feel when I talk to you and you'd know how important and successful of a person you really already are in this world.

But pretty soon I can take you away from all that bullshit, just like you sometimes ask me to. And we can live happily ever after in our own awesome way that nobody would understand, while eating chicken and drinking Joose and staying up late and doing whatever the fuck we want, and not worrying about stupid pointless shit that we shouldn’t even have to be expected to deal with right now in life anyway.

Fuckin traffic man

i hate traffic, and when construction has to be done in the morning on the first day of school, which leads to more traffic..
and then leads to not getting a parking spot and having to park on the street anyway.
thank GOD i got a parking permit.......
and i still dont know how to use my molloy online account.

goodtimes.

Ongoing Assessment