toiletooth

i just remembered that the people who are the fucking shittiest are still being shitty.
look in the fucking mirror before you critique me, bitch.
on another note, its a blizzard out there.....
and some will be sledding
while i am making pizza.

burger metroid. plain tacos. gelatanous bonky kong. beat tundra. butt sweat & tears. shit shingles. beluga brunches. stitches and cheese. chain membranes. cool hand puke. barf bellows. mountain don't. bacon back. bubble goose.
(these are a few of my favorite things.)

donkey kisses.
instead of butterfly kisses.
in my world.
the mad max world
where
if you don't got headphones on
you're dead.
and i kill for gas
and that little kid with the music box
follows me and my ugly dog around.
that's where i live.

into the threshold of pain
where brevity holds no ground
and underneath the fake lawns
sods hunger for ankle bites
as an excercise for their best wishes
wish they may and
wish they might
nibble uncooth ankle tonight.
see through you
into me
where wilds things sit
and practice mean.
they scrunch up lips
and suck in seeds
where saplings drown
and roots are meat....
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twilight zone box set,
all the way.

ever read the birthday book? its dope. kinda hippy, but really right on. go get one.
i fired someone yesterday.
she's the type to send her drunk boyfriend over to get kilt.
yeah, fuck with that.
sometimes random is not so random, and seemingly contrived.
and auspicious could as well apply.

flotsam jetson.
win some lose some.
god injection.
biblical belching.
ninja moves and
yayo proves it.
into music,
hawking loogies.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
i hate putting shelves together.

i'll be back when i get my shit together.

its just yelling where you think it might be heard.
its just eating yourself for dinner.
its pontious pilate hanging out with an obnoxious christ.
its getting into elliot smith finally after he's dead, where already.........there's not gonna be some album to wait for.
its all the bits of melting crayon.
its smudge.
its dickheads kicking chairs next to my dog and making them bark...
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i've officially lost all my faith in humanity.

soon i will trade this dilapated farmhouse for a fake wood doors and cabinets apartment. my knicknacks and paddywacks will give a dog a bone, or, they will disappear. all these old punk as fuck posters and dumpstered shelves and furniture will return to the alleys.
i'm gonna be in yuppie land. picket fences and the whole shits. i will be considered the bad element...
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i have 10 days to move and i haven't packed a thing. i've been lazy on that one. my wonderful music stint has been on a hiatus. i'm ok with that, but i'm much happier when its going great like it was for the last month. i dunno, its still there. just getting more "realistic" again. bleh.
i've just been spending most of my time...
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