Friday, August 27, 2010
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
LETS START A MILITIA
WE'VE GOT FUN&GUNS
WE'VE GOT FUN&GUNS
AND WE'RE GONNA KILL EVERYONE
DAMN THIS SHIT IS FUN
FUCK THIS SHIT IS FUN
WE'RE IT, WE'RE EVERYTHING
FUCKHEADS LOOK AND SEE
I'M THE RADDEST BEING
I'M THE ONE
WE'RE GUNNA KILL THE GOVERNMENT
CAN'T STOP THIS KIND OF FUN
LETS KILL THE ARMY!
FUCK YEH THIS SHIT IS IT
KILL THE PASTOR
THEN KILL YOUR MOM
WE'RE GONNA KILL EVERYONE
AND DROP THE ATOM BOMB
SO LETS KILL EACH OTHER
AND THERE WAS NO ONE
BUT WE HAD SO MUCH FUN
WITH OUR FUN&GUNS
WITH OUR FUN&GUNS
WITH OUR GUNS&DRUGS
WE KIILED EVERYONE
WITH FUN&GUNS AND GUNS&DRUGS
WE HAD SO MUCH FUN
NOW THERES NO ONE
On a grassy knoll a boy was born
He will be a miracle the stories told
When the boy was 3 he was lit on fire as he danced in the trees
At five he decided he wanted to die. So he tied one end a rope to a protruding rock and around his neck. He jumped off the cliff and began to fly.
When he was 8 the world knew nothing of his suffering and what it was to be alive. So he captured the king and drew his blood with a knife. In red he wrote a constitution of the living spirit.
When he was 13 he'd seen enough and started digging. By now he'd decided life could be worth living, but not here. So he leaped into his unmarked grave and sailed to other worlds below. The people murmured and mourned his death the many years that he was gone.
At 25 five he arose again, coming to fruition on the floor of a cave. All the people he gathered and forgave, for he had a message for them. As he spoke a cloud of dust formed around him with each breath he took. Floating above, as if it were heaven's hand reaching, he began to tell the truth. And he said, "Happiness comes only from within. The other worlds exist inside of you."
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
I have so many of these boxes – see how they balance in their shapes and sizes? Each is as sturdy as a corner stone or whatever you call that pressurdedly floating rock in the arches of antiquity or whatever. People thought I was Santa. I don’t know if it was the ecstasy or the boxes, I guess both… And these other pills, I knew I was him too, But I didn’t give any away that I remember. I’m patient as a swamp; it’s where I was brought up. We were born and raised that way but I knew on the highway I was an alligator with rockets, waiting to be found (beat) And here you are! 32 years of birthday presents…lets see…scuba gear to fit a beaver like when you were five. Oh! I got these rocks when I climbed a mountain and them and all the others saved my life and I figured maybe they could save yours too someday… Not that you need saving! – we ALL need saving Jesus, Oh Lord, I and you do too. Here’s a lampshade I used to use to stop my thinkin’. No need to leave the rocking chair when the rocking chair’s enough.
This is my favorite Son: Here's my kidney incase you need it or are starving. I’m sure mine has a finish of possum tail, whiskey maybe, yeah whiskey for sure. Oh and here’s your mother’s hand that fat shit horror. Had to pay $200 to have her body removed from the top floor. I’m amazed that ring didn’t snap off that potato thumb years ago but its yours in the will so here ya go. I didn’t know how else to get it to ya but the rottins well on its way, The maggots’ll make it twice as new. Here’s a treasure map I made when I was drunk. I don’t know where it starts or what’s at the end – Always hoped it would be another map but I didn’t know where to begin. I love walking somewhere even if I never get there. We should follow this map together and I swear you can eat me first; This aged meat’ll taste twice as nice and I want you to procreate.
OH! and a code to the sperm bank storage. (points) See the vials? Fill em full with your juice all the way through and swap em’ out cause I figure money ain’t winning, its lineage. And with al these boxes kid I know you’re gonna win. You’ll have so many kids you can crowd surf in heaven but I’ve never been. (looks at watch) Bout time now isn’t it? (Pulls a knife from his side and stabs him self quick twice in the heart and hands the knife to his son)
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Friday, August 13, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
from the brains of ricky lorenzo, guitarist for the venerable Bordentonian trio the Timid Roosevelts (and former metal bassist)... three albums to download so start gettin. sing a song to the mess of guitars and the white-noise madness... because you wish my bloody valentine weren't such pussies and recorded more albums in less time, because slowdive were english and not american, because the dominican republic is probably as warm as these records, because it'll be fun for you and yours. enjoy it!
air hits my face (and it never stops)
it comes from, from ancient GUNS
``````blown far AWAY
across the stars watching the earth
or the dirt
where my path can be traced
Signals of sounds surround
grey colors I hear nothing
but I have read about a satellite
satellite breeze choking
towards my friends
the magnetic ones
We escape into that satellite because we had plans to start a fire but the sun rose and there is was head floating head breathing air shrinking this balloon suffocating us and stretching we can see outside ourselves more more the moment before we stop knowing
I wonder what shaped we would make?
dead in elastic without space outlines meant to separate seeded pedals
one invisible flower
and we have
Who do you want to touch?always? What do you want to lose in yourself and what would you give everything to lose yourself in?
because scattered fight in all directions.
is Seeking chance - W/O being
As responsive as
could ever be
in a tornado
could ever be
my fall my limbs
WITHOUT KNOWING HOW OR WHOM (but I know its not him)
for fresh ground
and I thought the thoughts were something coming from, but the germs dispute the meaning of our crying. a better world for circles made of foot steps
w/o flying and know one nose, i know i fuck'd it up. buried Genes said it out "I do" guess the grass is dying for a reason because I haven't fed it yet. This is the reason I'm really dying - without a change= is a silence and I want this grass to grow. a knighted (a) shape (b) white or © black it ends - the ends of which no ones know. 1 dream, comatose, one thought 3000 years a chronic, disney forgotten think feathers instead of ears. One regret. Mao the chair man, break a piece off, forgot to try so I drank a 40 and threw him in the river, where i will stab washingsington as an indian cause everyone deserves a second chance. a person should be a name in equal parts, and washington is not a man, whose fabric woven foundations of the powers seeing black for death … unless white can use their machinery, the biggest power, wrong Washington. You must have been in so much pain. Luck a sign, i go thru doors but your pain was only a door to breath and water, food to live and lead and money money be man dear old dear old Washingtan. make what i love while .... sex aint true
I float in a cover above darkness
i float in a boat darkest silent for not a moon a light is something other.
i world a place i lost it fall to wonder
i wonder's a mistake jump'd in illusion. ask DR. You are not gliding
You are flying
P.S. I have SOO much writing. Booms, how do you feel about me posting my own writing on the blog?
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
1. Bury Me
2. Cold Winter Nights
3. Pamela (the Pentagram Girl)
4. Drunk Planet (Me & My Satanic Babe) / "Planet Drunk"?
5. My Witch
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Pay whatever you want. You should be familiar with the concept.
It would all be 100% free, but I just quit my office job to work at Mercy Sound Recording Studios as an unpaid intern, so if you would like to support my musical excursions and prevent any further administrative duties on my part, please bust out your debit/credit card(s) and make a small donation.
As always, I'll be extremely honored if anybody even listens. So, if you don't have any bread, then don't pay.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Murder Boats. Murder Boats stole the show.