Archive for the 'Writing' Category


frogs eat things part 2

And so the beasts had grown from tadpoles hatched in the back woods cistern to rubbery mounds of devouring instinct. The dragonfly didn’t know that the window sill was their territory; he wasn’t fluent in gang graffiti. His wings beat like paper lanterns in a storm,¬†although he refused to fly. I smoked a cigarette and watched the frog perched a foot away as he cocked his head sideways. Part of him was terrified by me, his frogmouthed overlord. Part of him craved the liquid silicon insides of the hammering dragonfly. I gave him my blessing and turned away. In this moment of privacy, he made his decision. Thudding off the glass, dragonfly dangling as sacrificial dinner from his mouth, bounding away. Now hidden in the shadow, I could hear him chewing and smell the rust of blood. I had gotten a nose bleed in my excitement.

Jeweler’s rendering of this horrific scene


Keystyles open doors

One of my old favorite hobbies was “keystyling” (text freestyling lol), while drunk over IRC, AIM, whatever. Even though it’s you know, kinda gay and kinda wack, it was fun back in the day. Well, a drunk friend forced me to repeat this nonsense last night, and since I have nothing else to write about, here’s some logs. Keep in mind, my buddy, who shall remain nameless, was ostensibly drunk off his ass. So almost everything here is, embarrassingly enough, mine.

Here’s a hot instrumental to get you in the mood

<asciigod> pass the mic like a glass, I laugh/ like the joker, fuck you with a poker/ straight out the fireplace/ listening to dire straights/ money or nothing/ bitches in benzos stoned off endo/ like snoop, schoop like salt/ pepper your house if you’re in default/ 401k or bombay, saphire, expired tags/ drink that milk if it’s rotten/

<asciigod> wiener mobile racing off track/ off road, i unload on a track/ baker’s rack, holds my cookbooks/ take ya back to a crook’s nook/ crannies, filled like dentures on grannies/ fucking bitches in purple wigs/ let me reiterate to illustrate/ i’m fucking bitches in purple wigs/ suck my purple twig/ got branches like banks/ tyra, tie ya up and then spank/

<asciigod> it gets no iller, i’mthe semen spiller/ beat it was my favorite track on thriller/ chiller, like a slushee/ mushing/ fuck dog racing/ i’m into racing frogs/ hopscotch over your lincoln logs, dropping stinking logs/ i took a dump in the playground/

<drunkfriend> in her perm / drop the secret syrum /
<drunkfriend> what
<asciigod> the secret syrum, never fear em/ weak mcs/ stoned faced like easter island when i’m wildin’/ jack ass/ constantly suffering from acid flashbacks/ ascii this/ ask me this/ can you draw an NFO for my mp3 group/ oldschool shit like f-troop/ zoot suit race riots/ in space suits it’s quiet/ no one can hear you scream/ causing bad dreams about losing C.R.E.A.M./ i rule everything around me/ i’m astounding/ ripley’s believe it or not, i’m hot

Here, I inform my friend that this is this year’s birthday present, as he’s so amused.

<asciigod> this is your birthday present

<asciigod> birthday present, rabbits eat lettuce/ i eat rabbits/ furburgers with ketchup/ check out my get up/ i’m dressed like a clown/ the john wayne gacy of rap/ racing my ice cream truck/ amazing discoveries in back/ is this Dexter?/ showtime original when it’s show time/ i’m so sick/ if I was deaf dumb and blind/ I would own mimes at their shit/


Note to self: Hire super-producer, record club banger.

Note to self 2: Idea for song: “For the Children”