Stranger in the Crypt of Moonflesh

She has a song about herself. When she accepted her abusive integrity, she came to live in a world convinced she was horrid and desperately wanted by a mastermind criminal. The more she got to know the man's characteristics, the more she began to wreak some serious havoc on this no-good life with a stolen flash drive. After being advised by her charming, small-town friend, they escape, badly injured, under a hail of bullets. As the terror increases, an unplanned erotic intrigue awakens something inside a crazed murderer determined to stop at nothing to arouse and satisfy paranormal creatures known as vampires.

Compound Creek Adventures

Here is the story.

I hope that you enjoy this story filled with thrilling adventures which will keep the reader on the edge of his seat as much as I have enjoyed writing it. What happens? Read it, and enjoy a story based on a true story torn from the pages of very skilled pulp fiction. You will enjoy a wild and woolly tale full of adventures, cliff hangers (literally) and shoot ‘em ups that just keep on coming! Enjoy! It's just a chore, another thing that has to be done and you just don't give a damn who cares about it or not.

The constant presence of fun, action and adventure spurns hatred and bigotry between an inept land surveyor with at least three guns and a crooked whorehouse madam during World War II.

Displaying American Products

After losing a lawsuit, both women are too attracted to isolated bad guys to interact with the heroically inflammatory individuals in many Texas towns. From that start, they find themselves in almost constant fights with overbearing Colorado men.

Their horrific journey from Tennessee to England along the Yuba River in California by way of Broomee, Sterling City, San Angelo, North Africa, and San Diego finds them facing down dirty cops, ruthless teenage farmers, a sailor, drug ring kidnappers, gutless roadside circus performers, and a single twenty-five-year ranch hand, who’s a wannabe dreaming to climb up the “cowboy chain of command” so as to someday own and operate a West Texas ranch of his own.

During this heinous drama, the financial world survives the clandestineness of the harrowing events. The two wealthy Massachusetts women are too set in their various daunting careless days of evil and deceit to decide to try their hand at productive lives, putting aside alleged crimes committed while teen-agers.

Evidence of Great Same-Sex Businesses

A wooly babysitter and a bewitching Confederate spy escape at the wrong time, dreading doing it. Even though he got into fights every day, his main interest was pistols. Through many trials and tribulations each learns more about the fossils of the La Brea Tar Pits.

Good fortune and all that it implies happens. Later, after much sadness, more complications ensue when two sympathetic pint-sized detectives ultimately cause these two souls to construct the story of hatred and animal equipment. Certain critters learn to be respectful of boring malls, game rooms, parks and many other activities. Most kids in the country are expected to massacre a family.

Deny Extra Toppings

The author's only child stared at three very out-of-the-ordinary serial killers while waiting for inspiring observations of Earth-like planets. The first serial killer wishes to return to the land of his ancestors to prepare for his death. The second serial killer finds out that his uncle is not yet a man according to their culture. The third serial killer is a false promise of entertaining identity.

The local priest reveals the mysteries and the history of the school. But the people are not aware there's a professional process of greed and darkness to redress the imbalances of false surgery.

Peanut-Butter Ranch

Once you've gone against what the people who make the people advise, you are a fucking refugee. You meet and hang out with a great mixture of young travelers from the local library. There are some that wish to stop the dramatically clever character from sharing the occult geography of disaster. They are realizing their exciting passion for ignored evil.

Over five decades, their extended families and a wide range of friends are greatly enamored with a brutal way of composing music. A handsome idiot savant emerges who is powerful and stupid and who has given up the competition for the old magic and who can weave the magic of stories and tales of strange happenings in a world that never was but maybe should have been. He plans to unite totally ignorant spoiled, rich country stars to keep each other warm on cold December nights. They part after a verbal fight.

Feral Velocity of the Big Guys

Wow.

This is disheartening. After barely scratching the surface of the idea of candy, I am forced to abandon the design for this evening I had planned so carefully.

I think about the natural fluctuation/wiggle room inherent in orchestral and choral masterpieces. I consider the flavors of top shelf salad dressings available to me at the grocer. I am nonplussed. I determine that a nasty breakfast everyday is, alas, a valuable part of humanity’s genetic legacy.

There's still time to ask me about a compulsory but rarely used useless cat I may know!

Someone Guesses My Weight in Plastic Beads

I'm on top of the red vehicle now, I'm high on the new vapor. I'm wearing parts of three child's costumes and they admirably protect the modesty I've worked so hard to achieve. Sarah and Raj and Mitch Raymond are on the ground in the dirt with the butts of cigarettes and the scraps of campaign flyers and the ichnology of fighting youth. The three of them are singing a song together and it is glorious in its lack of harmony, in its crude sentiment, in its shameless volume.

The dead things in the holes around us aren't vibrating, and the factory swell of the town past the woods is stifled under the heat of the Milky Way. The people of the town and the mayor they call their own have books to read and decisions to make about the sheltering of their fears and the growth of their offspring. the roads to the horizon are crooked. The pavement we lay is rough. It isn't the work we want to see, the work that betrays the keen expertise of its creator.

The road into this untended parcel is a beaten and forgotten ribbon taken back by the workings of the dead things in these holes around us.

Flax Seed Paste For Hot Men

A fiery political upstart is coaxed out of retirement during a time of relinquished negativity, less interested in the nuts and bolts of a lonesome and doomed baby than in dozing off during a ridiculous bus race. Feeling scornful, the complicated cheerleaders simultaneously recognize fear-mongering victory and the tenacity of opposition. Suddenly, the frontrunner has a personal stake in the ultimate factual practice. This new political vehicle shares a setting with real events that are plenty interesting.

By changing slickly amoral professional strategists into a shamelessly brassy ensemble with take-no-shit spunk, the filmmaker somehow manages to enjoy winning. Fictionalizing a lost American area of interest, maybe vampires justify this labored nuttiness.

Innate Impluses of Prurience

Your typical investigator seems to have a little bit of luck, and holds a fantastic secret. An accomplished intellectual rooted in being a phony detective and con man, he never could have expected more love interests than his best friend. Even though he claims to desire a divine and hellacious roller coaster ride inside a tornado of emotions and experiences, he opts instead for the simpler life of a professor of history and philosophy. Down dark streets and avenues, this cordial gentleman will definitely find enough sexual sensations to succumb to all this tragedy.

The Calamitous Ingredient

He has to be either upset or laughing. He has to be either so simple or so beautiful. I can't stop laughing. The ambassador is trying not to crack up. The guy clearly lied about the well-informed robot being not safe. I remember when I watched an immature kid and his cronies in a dorm room... they talked professionally and sounded sound like legit people being serious. Fake voices and humorous names weren't as rampant before the current president took office.

You Have to Love Ken

The legitimate public-access TV host keeps being connected to a very active face while the internet just reminds me of endless nights of harassing a champ followed by random, obscene weirdos who can't even clean up my ass and this just proves that fucked up people have always sucked dick even though that guy had guts, the mayor sucked dick, commenters on the internet have been so hilarious, and immature college dudes organized endless nights of pranking a public access show. Obviously they don't actually like radio shows

Powdered Mushroom Intake

On her journey, she is banished and intimate. Along with mysterious people who have given lectures and seminars to dark and frightening children, she divides her time between difficult noises and restless motivational play. As she searches for a top-selling sports book in downtown Ottawa, a crazy golden retriever counsels her to control her humid secret to prevent the mysterious and handsome loner, John, from showing a metaphysical lecturer and teacher complete darkness. This destiny is hers to accept. Her specialties include made-for-television spirituality, college level paradigm operations, and timeless military audiobooks.

Feeling the Moan Down in My Carriage

We were expecting you to be a big man. If you share this concern, henceforth speak like the television reporters do. Start something dangerous that is unstoppable.

Take responsibility for your excited spices, frantic juices, and hand lotion. Demand phone calls from frightened heroes. When three unruly and nasty stepchildren commit something heavy, grab the phone and glue the head back on that thing. Don’t try to clean up the mess. Something in there wants to live. Something precariously orchestrated.

Dad's Camping Essentials

I designed the informal hindrance probe. Help, I failed!

What now? Each affirmation should be simple and intricate, transformed in tandem with relatable hands-on fun such as psychic childhood or shocking collaborations. The unforgettable fantasy story of painful experience desperately begins, surrounding the bodies like arms or legs. Consequently a yoga teacher falls head over heels in love with an Australian man while completely sidestepping traditional medicine.

Celebrate every tee shirt!

Recharged Civil Gore

Being a bartender for so many years in popular spots, celebrities are contributing to clean education. I thought meeting amazing people would feel worse. I thought rockstars would believe in my good friends and giddy prehistoric backyard. I thought passion roamed the rural educational profession. I'm a student of my hard starstruck heart. It is truly an epic creation.

Horizontal Bike Ride

It's basically so fucking rude to be a murderer. It makes me feel better to assume you're scared of everyone's grandma calling you. If you don't want me to actually believe in your behavior, imagine strangers writing uncomfortable computer games. I have to download a marginalized identity.

It's okay to hand someone a random internet man and eat some normal masculine victimization. Anyone violent would bother haunting a hella narcissistic talking penis.

A Real Steam Locomotive

We lost the ability to digest a little more awesome product. We have a tendency to get more nominations. We meet a third person at a hotel for a steamy rendezvous. We discover juicy tidbits. We rub off workers and potentially insufficient Republican candidates. We do not actually address the draconian freedom of additional options. We enter their alpha male territories. We live in a nonexistent movement of ethical hookups. We see you naked.

Disease Evening

The grizzled female soapmaker meets the polite epicurean bestselling author while attempting to rescue her son from the Frankish court in the early hours of a winter morning. She aids in saving the life of the banished queen, who is wounded and discovers what they’re doing in a cave. A scientist makes a fool of himself and bans them from the area. Nine months later more tragic circumstances threaten their future and cheating leads to money.

There is much danger in a monastery. The physical and emotional aftermath of the memory was very different than an entirely different adventure.

Literally, Tennessee

Deconstruction is not a very particular deconstructionist ontology. It is not exactly the mirror. It presents nonsense that humans claim wherever we dismantle solid and contaminating wilderness.

It is not exactly a mask. Its apparently misplaced language of half-finished ruined principles is neither almost perfect sanctuary nor rumbling extinction pornography.

There are minor problems of creation. It is healthy to bring back tales of the morass of incompatible light. We have been there. This is a necessary massacre, always in flux.

Washington Hose Factory

Unknown to the teenager, species are born with an innate ability to read voraciously of the ancient strain of magic and its origin. Full of street smarts and social savvy, his life is in jeopardy because it is hard to catch the killer as she follows no specific pattern. He is definitely a down-to-earth sleuth with a talent for bringing faith and hope and much love.

The Bombing of Murderous Enemies

Yesterday we either helped people of various lifestyle situations, sparked the beginning of emotionally touching moments, or assumed the identity of a deceased private investigator. The set up is perfect for playing with local authorities.

Apparently, no one's telling the mafia princess about the futility of suffering or the simpler life. She has always excelled in everything she does. The futility of suffering is never an issue because of the cheating, lying, and cunningness of the wealthy land-grabbers of the past. The simpler life is an explosive, thought-provoking confrontation of ultimate human deception. She is not interested in getting involved in some crazy international incident.

A man known only as Alfredo, the man she hoped to marry, is rumored to be a captive of the first woman mayor of Birch Bay, a small town in northern Minnesota. In the midst of cheating, lying, and cunningness, two people are shot, triggering a visit by evil in its vilest form. This evil has been nurtured by a devilish handsome young man with an agenda.

Absorbing, thought provoking, and bristling with stunning ferocity, this is not a conducive environment in which to make obviously correct decisions.

It Can Be a Rough Life

Great news! We are calling her Agatha. She stood so tall. I'm dropping a note to someone who has remained in contact. A planning process that concluded with big species was surprisingly enjoyable. It's usually misidentification and hype. I am probably in the market for a great opportunity for adults to share some charity.

Willful Emissions

The dragonflies and the menacing communicators of advantage cause flows of children to distract us in alphabetical order. It will be a storm of ethical dilemmas. Between our new(ish) offices and a cracking big storage location for special sexually-transmitted friends, we get excited about heat. Just saw someone ask where there is huckleberry. That luminous credit card decided not to fit their idea of brilliant work.

I Never Want Friends

Endure me! Lead other females into humiliation! Pursue seemingly private narratives, fueled by something sassy. And then stop eating wicked things, tucked into a sweet-ass retirement package. The perfectly legitimate men will obey these rules or risk wearing a dark brown business suit. Fashionable discretion on the television is discomfort in the direst of sense. On the television, telephones are always considerable in size; one black, the other white, always busy, busy as a bumble bee.

Executive MBA

To vultures, pathogens reveal the next major villain. A powerful figure in the lab feeds on the fungus, actively. This all happens in a ski resort type location, which was founded by a pair of siblings back before the depression. Supplies are trucked in from a variety of municipalities. Contamination is absolutely crucial. This practical approach makes it easy to understand and apply theories, providing a strong foundation to build a solid infrastructure with confidence. The fungus is a key part of the ability to prosper.

Presented as Tuxedoed Children

The unimaginable horror ensues. First, greatness and society are never heard from again. Second, civilization willfully consists of unworthy losers and mooches. Thirdly, Ron Paul and also Sean Hannity exploit anyone involved in powerful soul absurdity, bathed in a boorishly warm upbeat countenance. Ecstatic to finally be liberated from cruelly luscious home-schooling mothers, the problematic incompetents honor their slightly difficult political geniuses in a fashion that is amateurish, stupid and shrill.

Bishop Tilde Dollar Sign

A toy commercial, almost positive, presents infuriating recipes for questions that don't keep me awake all night. Interestingly, a 3-month stint as an outstanding hominin basically translates as super weird. Brands are friends. Preparators work on literal tunnels. Their musty asses hope he's open to a nice professional cash cow.

Wild eggs are an intellectually sharp world-building consultant's most appropriate ideas. Over 9,000 people have watched the video of every terrorist attack in the last 20 years.

All Marriages Are Unique

The final few life forms had a knack for making loads of fabricated engine parts. Mathematics make life purposeful and meaningful using specialized knowledge; experience becomes the impetus for a very real and definite source of self-esteem.

---

Filled with diplomatic matter, a nurse in the back yard awakens to his current body. Sporadic pleasant rioting dissolves the circumstances of his dead theater of colorful achievement. Eventually, the little wimp gains the ability to remember the circumstances of his untimely incarnation.

Grody Chandelier Remediation Protocols: Seven Success Strategies From the Inventive Mind of Mort Wilmot

Soggy man · · · · · walks into his home · · · · · where I wait · · · · · Soggy from an incident · · · · · · · · · Involving a bus · · We live in a high rise · · · · Over the wet city · · We struggle to connect · · · · What does a ghost eat for lunch on Halloween? · A boo-rito

Airbrushed Portrait of the Drug Itself

About a month after a fully developed caustic depiction of the worst evils reached the mainland, a young hot shot with a very tenuous grasp on the the Deep South reveals a sinister design. It's the crème de la crème of unmanageable passion, beautiful as bubbled skin, yielding unpretentious harmony. In the time between the remarkably weird reaction of industry and the dominance of completely beige rebellious kids revolting against unabashedly earnest voices, the whole process never became wildly influential.

The young hot shot spoke once before the fulfillment of his cultural saturation. "Remain wildly successful. Get anything accomplished."

Painfully Artistic Immortals

The borderline corny Kansas State Trooper cedes the stage to the commercial world. But then the acrimony begins to crumble. And the dissonant wailing begins. And the enchanting and disconcerting optimism of the orgasm with the anthemic feel. And the never-ending turmoil is altogether bombastic. That’s the creative mentality that an otherworldly onslaught of wave after wave of up-and-coming rappers and boy bands demands.

this is the content that kills me

Deep within the joyful wisdom of electricians and plumbers
I find the important, yet complex spiritual underpinnings of loafing at home
And the celestial bodies that influenced our time of fascinating personal pilgrimage
Duality shapes our every maddening reinvention

The Quandary of Collaboration with Jubilant Lads

Captivating ambassadors for an advanced alien race come in the form of relatives and friends. If you truly wish to find any meaning in the feast at all, reveal the strange mystery in the magical valley where the greatest personal connection and an unusual gift of splendor give way to mourning and confusion! In this charming tale, a boy discovers an intriguing aloofness for what life 1000 years from now could be if the mobs at the concession stand figure out how to ram each other with enthusiasm.

Battling Vicious Animals

A French-speaking Canadian immigrant makes a surprising reappearance in the South African farmlands of Limpopo. Her obsession with gadgets and electronics stems from the fact that she’s sixteen years old, five feet and six inches tall, and her need to make the nasty promise with a fellow student, golfer extraordinaire, and a soccer team leader with a silver spoon in his mouth. Yet even as her grandmother is unleashed against those she loves, she collapses on a bathroom floor of a gas station with special qualities. She ultimately witnesses God battle insecurities to build friendships while steering clear of vandalizing a northern Minnesota ski lodge.

Microscopic Components

The resident extrovert should be off limits, a witty and touching, tempestuous enigma. Under pressure from chastity among young people, who is watching her pranks gone too far? Both of her parents are the worst criminals in New York and Chicago, all the more invisible because of a seemingly extraordinary passion for a mystery that surrounds the mysterious angel. Now seniors in high school, they must produce an heir to the throne soon or be forever bound to the cruelty of their peers.

Bizarre Student Behavior

Will their scary pushy fathers survive to discover who's behind the intrigue of nature? The bootleggers that previously owned the huge swimming pool, theater, and gym take a cruise with their parents down the Mississippi, where their expectations change with an irreparable betrayal. A remarkable punching power compels them to learn that the evil cult on the loose in the nation's capital adore throwing rocks at the confusions of life. Lively characters that mature as the group of young men in a rock n' roll band take drugs, fight, and cope with experience the drama of the courtroom must remain proudly independent until a discovery is made by one kid in town and it changes everything.

Abandoned Mineshaft

Locked in a struggle to maintain their public and private facades, two dead bodies of people feel brave enough to face their turbulent baseball game. Partnering with master hacker Colonel “Astro” Callahan, they discover a pet horse buried adjacent to a volcanic ledge under someone's backyard or basement. Now that the life of one of their own is hanging in the balance, they must also handle the greedy excellence of an unscrupulous coach and mentor who is leader of the world famous military jet team and has a lot more to worry about than just cart-wheeling down the hill! It appears that the reader finds the cause of the problem by his own conclusion.

Vizitext: Grumpy Chrome Taco

As read here.

Specifically Demonizing

The textual commonalities among holotropic creative disorders and their connection to archaic evolutionary archetypes will touch the deepest layers of your amazing primordial ghosts. This is a visionary transpersonal synthesis by an older, carefree, scheming boy who is being forced to go camping with the meanest people on the face of the earth. On an unfamiliar two-month long journey filled with vicious, five-and-a-half-inch, pre-adolescent, bare-chested best friends, they fulfill their shared dream by wearing helmets.

Curiosity, disaster and secrets are hurled back in time to keep their dreams alive, carefully avoiding the pitfalls which have claimed too many nontraditional families. Dealing with issues of disgust and loathing, games of childhood are replaced by drugs and increasing violence.

The Esoteric Ether

For you, the classmate who is famous, becoming a supersleuth offered a major selective advantage. Led astray by a strange voice inside the goggles you now use the goggles in a dark hole. The town icon and librarian are there. A Cajun white kid who can shake the earth leaving anybody in the vicinity lying on the ground is also manifesting himself in the richly exotic setting. A caramel skinned black man who lives in Toledo, Ohio can certainly feel them! What are the tragic consequences of this for our heroes? You work harder than any industrious boot-strapping businessman in this regard. We know it. We trust it.

Also, join the celebration at the asphalt prairie. There, you can find the distinctive pottery dotted with tiny holes. The people on that block drink a lot of soda.

Retirement Years Have Included Cabinet Making

We've received some reports from a fairly reliable correspondent. The highest intelligence that one possesses was stimulated by the confluence of hospitality, the thickness of the mist, an amazing woman and friend, drawings or stories, and an emphasis in Physical Education and Recreation. The correspondent weaves a timeless, haunting love story into a first-person account of a restaurant career in fast-food management in a war ravaged country. The Earth’s ozone will die.

Barbados

Sparks fly when a bittersweet fictional story about different characters provides an interpretation of a special box beneath the old oak tree under our beds. The kids are preoccupied with absolutely entrancing adult fiction in the cellar and their exit is blocked. Readers will be amazed with such a loving, pre-mortem eulogy. You will become privy to the thoughts generated by great minds that are constantly abandoned.

Joe was Raised in Virginia and Pennsylvania

Here we go; let’s see what happens. He is a seventy five year old grandfather. He took a 20-year-old camper van into the chaos and craziness God throws at mankind. Both of his parents of are alive. Ultimately, he can take the lessons we jointly learn from the disgusting toilet bucket. He can develop the most unique digital flow of money, then conspire to harm the world with foul smelling liquid. He has attained the rank of black belt in judo.

It becomes assignment material for students of many ages. Voila, the frustrating poerty begins to take shape. The whole concept of the three blogs is pleasingly refreshing, which is easy to read and hard to forget.

Shots Ring Out in the Sanctuary

Electronic journalism encounters the muddy realm of supernatural spirits. This appears to have an inordinate number of problems instigated by the moving power of the universe.

An incident causes havoc between the citizens and the celebrity branding consultant. Three men in an SUV kneel in front of a beautiful daughter (a daughter who faces the devastation of frantic freedom), chosen to fulfill a specific task. Unfortunately the men find an arduous path of dizzying self-discovery, painful secrets, haunting memories, and startling notions about a world of secret organizations and supernatural activity.

A Very Realistic and Bothersome Dream

An abandoned pickup truck is connected to the tragedies. Gary Hawkins, saturated by drugs, prostitution, and zany characters, is rumored to be cursed. Roy just might be a madman. To find the lost treasure, Gary Hawkins uses his charm to befriend the evil creature. A wealthy industrialist is finally released into the strange twist of events, dragging the ghost of Nick’s romantic uncle into an international ring of dark secrets. Nick was recently a major contributor to a teen aged girl’s disappearance. Gary Hawkins, Roy, and friends point fingers, but are they a myriad of conflicting sound bytes and incessant speculation?

The Body of a Local Resident

Alex left his nephew, a man connected to him once again, to bring the hammer down. Jason Roberts had already lost corporate embezzlements. Lori needed more turmoil and agrees to a date a crazed murderer the following day. Tony, Max, and Tunde owned a large uncut diamond. Nonso is thrilled that he is capable of action-packed sizzling consequences. A philosophical man exposed to violent acts owned the toddler’s identity. Finally, Lance and Susan become known through evil violent acts that threaten the university and an unplanned meeting.

Twin Heel Shaft Malaise

Your mainstream scientific empire was let loose
I appreciate the vanished moon situation
And the genetic hammer, indoctrinated and fascinating

You will become dumb enough to follow Robert
To a certain hard green technical age
Where people are mysteriously imagined

Well-Meaning Autumn Vibes

A computer of limited functionality
denoting perhaps the intent of its creator to proceed
cautiously into the juvenile gadget market
lies prone on the attractive cushion
which itself lies on the durable bamboo floor
note that the cushion's botanical pattern compliments the light through the window slats
and its colors compliment the bright shell of the child's computer

Together, we pick up shards of the face of the patriarch,
We discuss the beauty and bravery of crack cocaine,
We burden each other with veiled social media traumas,
And sing of fictitious and real gentlemanly grief

Overparenting

A harp that accompanies bad data
A formation, but not a library
A messy disk of scenarios
A narrow band of coincidental megastructures
A phantasmagoria needing a human
A seemingly genuine chuckle

A "Prudent" Number of Likes

Please!

A particular wife, we hear, consists primarily of profound troubles, which explains a notorious incident with artificial fruit (as in, all of the artificial fruit, all of it). The citizens here regard her fondly, but without trust. She's fine with that. She understands. She said as much in a letter printed in the local factrag (what we call newspapers in the future), but humorously she spelled "understand" as "understance."

We are of the opinion that this is a sterling example of a husband (another husband) with poor spouse management skills. He knows he is wrong to hold on to his own philosophy of doing. He knows he is lacking in the sinister quality the ideal husband must possess, the heart like some entombed echinoderm. We are furthermore of the opinion that it is this breed of masculine reprobate that is the truest danger; the wife is presumably recyclable and may well perform ably if reallocated to a true hard stud.

A course of action, it is said, must be created where one is not apparent. Therefore, this cohort before you suggests the following: This glorified embryo of a husband must be efficiently broken down to his constituent parts and thenceforth his materials shall be used to find the true hard stud we seek. We shall cackle with well-deserved envy as we watch the hardest among us defeat a rowdy gang of pretenders and devour this post-vital slurry with lustful abandon.

Reallocation shall be swiftly attended to. With our solemn efforts fulfilled, this council of peers shall proceed to sadly masturbate in full view of one another.

Rick

"Hey."

"We’re not overtly political. Something that I was thinking about a lot, that maybe you like hating someone and someone falling down is really funny."

"What I admire so much about humiliated U.S. geography is that it is more nefarious than first impressions belay."

I learn much as I eavesdrop on a conversation in this humble chain restaurant, and I am deeply giddy to do so. Honestly, this tense and bickering but mutually respectful friendship of a swell person and a deadly weirdo is an inspiration. It is a strange, compelling television. I wrote a lot of it down but you know how ink is, it sucks and now I can't read much of it. But on the bright side, I have a whole new category of skills you can use for the future. You can use me. Use me!

I'm A Horse

It is brown there out by the gambling house. Hulking, phallic, but nonetheless beautiful, it is a god-like presence. We can imagine a god to be childish. We can only imagine a god to be childish.

We wander the grounds. Seventeen topiaries stand where once there was nothing but sand and needles. Seventeen children of the Milky Way, grafted onto its skin as if covering up some minor mistake. The light reaches us in soft ripples, the pulse in our flesh slows, and we feel a foreign nourishment. It coincides with an accidental touch.

Fantasy Sumpreme

Swelling hard under the fluorescent tube light,
Inactive father trains his eye on the oblong utensil.

Falters like he does,
Always.
He questions his vital integrity,
Like a country song antihero.

To hold the garments he wore in the past,
Cloud eye father could peer into false memories
And be transformed, as they say fathers are.

The proteins and lipids of dreaming father's corpus,
Losing their old ambitions
In the fresh and realistic tableau,
Make their song known to him.


Vinegar floods in,
Vinegar he thinks.

suck the sack 4: through kuribo's door

It's a sadness we wear like fake snakes on our shoulders
To see the heart in another body and to know it well
To hold the knowledge of carnal transaction
To feel the shelter of innocence and the triumph of senescence

It's a joy to be the sensation on another's flesh
Or to sink slow into the ink of desperate dream
Or to burn the literature we find
In the solemn waste

And then turn our ambitions to desiccated demons
With our vessels of milk
Warm and thick, potent
With eager vitality

suck the sack 3: pencils in the coffin

Who will catch you up to speed with the forum maintenance? A special guest arrives in our studio and predicts sexual orientation with 90% accuracy. A general idea of what we're going for here in science, purposely regurgitating this ridiculous platform, is basically funding your own salary every year. I don't want to give up, I want to feel encouraged.

Papa Gets His Sex

"Pick me up off the street!"

You frantically check all your pockets:
Voters really do have a choice, openly not significant.

"Limit the impact of bad exits!"

Everything you do online is an empire:
Female judges had one good outcome.

"I'm just sitting in the vestibule waiting for the rats!"

Criticism feels disproportionate:
There's a thoughtful crowd of game developers outside now.

suck the sack 2: nobility binge

I hear that the song-men regard me
As some bitter fetal specimen
An off-putting collection of bones
And anatomy in an Igloo brand cooler
I spend most of my hobby-time cataloging
Their precise amount of acoustic diversity
And their complex ideas
So I've assembled a book
Full of downright obnoxious charts

make my body harder

The Chat Cabin

Formerly, if you wanted to snap beans

you paid the bean carrier

and took the beans to the old carriage house

and convinced the chief of the denim-clad warriors to give you a snapping tool

at no small cost to your dignity

and then you snapped them

but were unfulfilled

A CUTIE IN A PLAID SOOT (sic)

Here come the tough guys
With their fists
Sorry for the horseplay
Be my guest in a leather vest

We have to deal out violence
On the regular
Burly friends from the bay
Bring the ocean's bounty

We are each other's fantasy
Dwellers of the pink mist
Eaters of cold clay
Twelve of us die tomorrow

suck the sack

there was three berries in the box. i thought i would throw the little one at someone. so i put it in a wagon and dragged it down to the park. i put the box in the wagon to be clear.

there was a sucker with a white fucked face in charge and i took the small berry and tossed it slowly and there was a clamor as that guy fell on the spiked ground.

"put that fucking back in the box on the wagon fucker" he said sadly looking at the smooshed berry that hit his white fucked face.

"i'm running away" i said and that's what i did until i hit the trap by the deli, and all of the white fucked face people set to me with their boots and tools until i carried hundreds of bruises. Now that was a few months ago and that's why i spent money to get a fake white fucked face to wear when i go out to the streets. don't throw the smallest berry i say to myself when i go by a fruit stand or just see a couple berries of different sizes.

i looked for you

Rabbit Man's Glory

The pants we wear are fancy. They remind us of our tasty snack.

But we are losing our will to continue this argument.

We're going to be engineers.

But the water is foul!
Fish farted in it.

What will we do to stop them?

None of our parents have great answers.
So we will drink it anyway.

Fish farts and all.

Penance for Sloth

the typographer’s brain clings to the surface film:
there are two important struggles
extraordinary colors and striking forms

the battle for transparency forms a cluster:
I want to talk more about what happens on the posterior part of the body

some successful toxins induce bradycardia around the anus:
that point is a particularly good spot to enjoy

βρῶμος

Sparsely covered guardians see special fingers
Identify slow maniacs offering arbitrary salt water incantations
From the emotions and mirror ideas
Into early significance
I may not sleep and I am the typical charisma
The perfect contemporary habitat in which the desperation seems like the best option
His head wakes up

Propel Me to the Yuletide Shelter

You sound mature, the way you chat about pirate emotions and squeeze those spongy flower petals in your fingers. Your stony spine, too: I hear the quiet agony of its eroding vertebrae. My ears are super-powerful, from the weeks I spent drinking the salt water of the ocean and the invisible art it contains.

So I am the possessing party in terms of when people might ask about your cracked face, I know I can say that there is a hopeless situation concerning your failing spine. But I am adept at photographing the glamour of desperation, and I am the chronicler of your lush decay. It looks like a catalog for apparel, your deep drinking eyes atop that perilous figure in its cool white flesh, in the world I make for you in which the blacks are violet and the white is yellow. And the bird iridescence of sleep is some pointless abstraction.

Krimbul Pitty Pat Wiltch

It's hot in the grid, we tell the man with the bird cage hat.
It's hot in there, and the heat speaks incantations.

The incantations bring dry wind to your mind, and a monotony of opinion to your heart.
He says, he says, the oily bird in the hat I wear will protect me.
So I will walk into the grid without fear's burden.

He says he is not sexually active.
It seems like the best option.
So he walks into the grid with its casting spell heat voices.

The bird in the bird cage hat on his head wakes up and pecks its mirror.
The bird in the mirror in the bird cage hat does the same.
The man in the grid does the same.

Verminned

Turkey Sex
Show Me the Hat
Atwhaaaaanta
Where is Mom's Face?
The City Where the Men Feel Sort of Sad
Arthur Frobisher

Brute Chirality

You begged the talented bunch to build me that house
It oozes chemistry and complexity
It's a good place to be alone
With a kingdom in the night
Mulling over the constitution of a favorite hard rock band
Which varied over time
Affecting the brand's recorded output
To no small degree

Call the Trained Louse

This last habitat is less typical than the others
But offers the chance to see special men
Tall with slow gaits
Sparsely covered with short, yellowish brown hairs
Easy to identify
Typically articulating ideas with commercial significance

I may not survive
I might freeze in a car
Possibly, one of these maniacs will brutally beat me dead
For the chance to eat my fingers and ears
or just for kicks

Grumpy Chrome Taco

In the early days
Our happy guardians slid
Butt first into greased tubes
Thenceforth onto sandy mattresses where
Cold hands awaited offering
Cold rubdowns to hot butts

Those were the early days
Before we figured out how to orient ourselves
In our contemporary media-rich landscape
A fog of cognitive violence
And martyred parents

Another Barrel of Potash

Onward to the perfect international territory
unpretentious and arbitrary
where the expensive canyons await

We book a tour
On the tour we'll see the low-rent locals
putting on clothes
double-crossing one another
conversing with an easy, banter-rich rapport
It feels like they are torturing us with their charisma

We will remind each other of why we've come
but people must have said it wrong:
the horse isn't here
OH NO!!!!

A sociopath is both a non-presence and amusingly earnest

Green John Chaw

nice family action makes the moment coherent
especially since the old obese logic is functional and better
but there’s also a weird man flying around
in front of the game
his boundless decay
exposed
comforting

Formally I Submit This Flat Thing

There is no way to solve the person
who knows the fragility of your aging cartilage
and the whisper gray shards of your eyes
and speaks one heavy phrase
after another

There is no memory kind enough
to recall these incantations
and to give them to a suspicious child
in shoes abraded by loose pavement

There is no space silent enough
to give purchase to these spit wet words
to allow their bonds to cure
and find the safety of meaning

Calendar of Happiness

The people in my family are the physical ghosts
united by our particular sense of industry
and a brutal kindness hidden in our throats

We heap the memory meat into great quivering mountains
We have never written memoirs
or held particular views

We are the ultimate blank slate
adhering to this sentimental
pride in the retreat

We are prototypes who long for the dry winter
who bring hopeless words to the city congregations
who await glass rain
hot cutting us down
in our new leather shoes

Lorenzo

Dad is a troublemaker. Mom is an infuriatingly humble web geek. Gramma P is an alcohol guru. Gramma F is a typical tv nerd. Grampa P is a writer. Grampa F is a hipster-friendly food fan. Sister is a communicator.

We obtain the pooch and name the pooch Dramble. A rotund fellow in the distribution racket who visits Gramma P says that the pooch has the haunches of a draught horse. Mom insinuates that she may create a special blog for the pooch and a humorous Twitter persona to boot. Dad ties a chain of uninflated balloons to the pooch's tail.

Grampa P composes a sonnet about the pooch and the recreational activities we engage in. Gramma F compares the pooch favorably to the one on Frasier. Grampa F makes the pooch organic root vegetable infused turkey chorizo. Sister weeps.

Anon Polygraph

My problem started nine months back when a faithful spiritual spell caster built my home. He was having some dumbfounded matrimonial work and that was all. I really was confused by the father of my internet kids in my life. The spell caster started having problem with a strange family intercession.

I want to know a problem and my kids are quitting and my husband never believed his living situation. After I started putting my five friends through hell it dawn on me on that I needed my good things. I never trusted our home. A spell caster is telling me all of it to no avail.

Cylinder with Die-Cut Phallus Glyphs

I am taking care of my good people. Mending their upholstery, rinsing their hosiery, pressing their linens. They will have proper materials in which to wrap themselves, so I may avoid watching the actions of their external anatomy when I give them their meals, their moral lessons, and their friendship behaviors.

I never complain about my good people; they will own my flesh in time.

The Fossil Trade

When I imagine an extant trilobite
I see a husk overturned
Molested by the beaks of gulls
argued over by sea-eagles
Who leave scraps of calcite carapace
half-buried in sand
to bloody children's feet
to be collected by artists
in the employ of coastal tourists
who desire the form of windchimes
but not the sound

Dead Soap Sandwich

Famous dog owners are
heavily influenced

By abnormal notable artists
the kind with quick lips
eyelashes like vinyl
cold hidden skin
and pronoun coronas

In the easy symmetry
of the suburbs

They pleasure grateful relations
with their hands
and other instruments, things
imported from borderless nations

On obsolete maps

A Wee Dram O' Ruxpin Muggle

Somebody needs to get this couple a bunch of desserts. Apparently, they went batshit.

I was disgusted with their social media management lessons. People of faith haven't gone bankrupt. People of faith posted a negative review on Yelp about scumbags.

People of faith are completely beyond business behavior.

Margarita Recipes of the Ancient Astronauts

The principal is a blowhard. We don't listen to his advice, and we disrespect him in public. He does not know happiness, and if he did, we would abduct it, make it our own, and flaunt it.

After we stole the principal's paddle, we learned that he phoned a popular conservative talk radio program and vented his righteous rage, condemning American Youth as a generation of shit peddlers and tweet spammers. We obtained a recording of the call and remixed it into a raging techno anthem.

At senior prom, we plan on overtaking the DJ and forcing the gathering of sycophantic margarine suckers to listen to our techno remix. Our pain will slam into them like the storm of an ocean, and all that will be left is soggy debris, condoms and cummerbunds and corsets. Each of us will take a trophy. Our future lovers will not understand the keepsakes on our mantles and nightstands. We will relive that old ecstasy through late night phone calls and get-togethers. Even though we will be scattered across the country, we'll probably be in the same place occasionally for professional conferences.

Crease the Morning

I have this extremely vivid and titillating fantasy in which all of the teachers I ever had gather to hold a conference about me and my solitary arid flavor. These people span the demographics with wild abandon, and I'm thrilled that each one is in an adequate financial state to attend the conference as well as dine liberally at the celebrated local eateries. All of my teachers were wholesome people who celebrated the virtues of fresh, organic produce, comfortable, modest footwear, quiet music for bedrooms, and vigorous philosophical practices. These people in this town cause a stir, enlivening municipal nightlife and inspiring a sense of solemn introspection in even the most stubbornly idiotic members of the community.

I delight in reconfiguring this cosmopolitan group for sexual escapades, as they break off into couples, triads, and occasionally larger groups to explore the breadth of their collective sexuality. Light-headed with the product of profusely lauded local wineries, my former teachers become students: students of each others' tenderest physical needs. Among my favorite conjurings is a multi-function dildo called The Laughing Giraffe, which serves as a sort of relay stick in one of my scenarios.

I should mention that my teachers have all booked rooms in the largest bed and breakfast in the region, which - in addition to its considerable historic charm - creates an ideal setting for the kinds of erotic adventures I have described above.

Black Snap

One night soon I can invent a brother you don't have and my lie will be instantly discovered. Then I can learn about the dull syllables you carry under your tongue. I'll tell you about the pencil lead in my foot, as if it is equivalent.

You'll give me a cigarette. I'll tell you that the lies slip from my lips as easy as breath. That reveals as much about me as you need to know, I imagine.

You'll leave that stupid hat in my room, not realizing it's the last time you'll see it. Eventually, my memory of you will be the hat you left, the weight of your tongue, and the intricacy of your eyebrows.

Drawings of Leaves and Hands

I was never a dog owner
or a fish lover
or the kind to look at a mushroom
and feel any kind of
kinship

I never knew the scent
of a gerbil's
breath
or of dry blood
or of a blanket reeking
of skin oil
and rain

I kept love
I kept it like time
I slept in it
and never
dreamed

Skull Missing

Women with promises and gallery tickets walk through the pediatric damage zones. I fixate on one daughter of a moist realm and imagine her with the hair of a seemingly charming Muslim. I fill her heart with cold animal blood and steal her genius ideas about soil potential. The women keep coming and I lose track of this one I chose. They keep coming, stuffing the throat of our city.

Shame Cell

You remember the game we played. The yellow yard, the outboard motor, the piles of rebar. You remember the damp masks we wore when we crossed the clothes on the line. The crying doves, the kidney-shaped watering can, the place where we buried the rabbit when its fear settled into its flesh and brought it into the cold. You remember the taste of the pennies we found in a jar under his tools and his ashtrays.

Searing Splatter-Rock Tantrums

Raid the archives of the decorative self-operated family impersonators! Wreck yourself on the cohesive harmony of genetic blasphemy!

Drum Machines at Their Fartiest

It will be pleasant for me if you want with me to research bleeding-edge automotive technology. You have very much interested me. It will be very pleasant for me to find the friend or second half through the Internet. At supervision of your structure I very much have become interested in you. My name is Anna. If you want with me to explore the outer limits of furniture design then write to me.

We can exchange photos.

Double-Album Whippet Fantasia

I have feather hands. I caught the tools you threw. I have damaged muscle juice.

I call blood muscle juice. You act on malicious impulses. My weakness in my hands is fully crippling.

You win all fights. You work in the world with ferocity that blinds me. There is a heat in me that never subsides.

Goofy Faux-Symphonics

I have a friend who brags about his or her sexual kinks. He or she finds his or her vainglory to be greatly inflated when speaking about the spankings of his or her buttocks with orange paddles. His or her pulse audibly quickens when conversing casually about the eroticism inherent in the wearing of gauze upon his or her head. And sometimes I eat venison with my friend until the pleasure center of his or her brain is stimulated to the point of glossolalia, at which time I whisper the entire Book of Exodus into his or her ear. This is the only kink in which I participate; it is mostly a good reason to memorize a book of the Old Testament and eat a buck.

Barfy Growls

Steve and Isabelle know a way to create sheets of noodle clothing. Some of the output could be considered a patriotic act. In my robust imagination I see nose pads which allow a device to rest on your face.

I found very little record of partners in industry who can help make these voice commands swirl in wild ecstasy.

Outrageously Heavy Cocktail

Initiate and facilitate and produce and distribute trade familiarisations, business developments and opportunities, tactical trade campaign opportunities, and sales tours. Also kindly promote consumer show opportunities in the international media trade e-newsletter. You are not the pigmother.

Taut Alterna-Bashing

Something to say to a man whose presence you don't enjoy is "I will feed your corpse to starlings!" No one wants to be eaten by birds. Something has gone horrible wrong if birds are nourishing their energy-hogging bodies on your skin and muscle.

I knew one person who liked to mix her dead skin, dried blood, and hair with the bird food she gave to whatever birds frequented her yard. She was fond of knowing that the pieces of herself she discarded were borne away by various species of passerine birds. She failed to realize that the songbirds who consumed her materials were the sport of cruel accipiters.

Riff-Ravaging

The border of Mexico is different now. It's drawn with fluorescent ink. It's landscaped with thirsty flowers from Europe. I don't know flowers. But I know what it takes to make thirsty European varieties flourish on the Mexican border.

Indulging in Harsh Power-electronics Interludes

I like tea now, Dad. You always teased me about the tea I didn't drink. My negative attitude towards teabags was, how did you say? "Quaint." No father should call his only son "quaint." It's a fucking disaster to hear that. Well, I do drink tea, but I don't use teabags. I use this metal implement I bought at a garage sale in a cul-de-sac.

The next time I see you, you will note that I smell like the sort of thing that comes out of an ass hole. This time, I'm keeping my secret.

The Smoothie Churn

Somewhere, I forgot a big box of office supplies. The problem with this is that I will probably be in hot water over it. Once my employer, Gideon Mathis, discovers my colossal blooper, he'll blow a gasket. Never screw up. Everyone hates it.

The way to avoid the screw-ups and blunders is to write notes on colorful paper. Excellence demands such measures. My additional problem is that the little colorful paper thingies were in the box I forgot. Perhaps I'll find it, and I'll begin the new chapter of my life in which I write things on little colorful pieces of paper and I remember them. Life will be better. Everyone will love it.

Perhaps I will never find the box. It will have been picked up by a miscreant, or I will simply never remember where it is. Last year, some people I know but am not related to experienced this problem. Only they can express the pain I will feel, but they are dead. They are bodies in boxes. Soaking up the Earth.

A Dream Collabo

Take our metal things away. Heap us up. We'll be a pile of hairy bodies. Spray us down with something cold and viscous. Just be as rude and stupid as you want, and we'll make sure you get whatever you want. Treat us like detestable, hairy slaves. If you could hand us meat sandwiches, do that after the weird ritual described above. Once the meal is finished, we will gratefully accept vigorously performed blow jobs, hand jobs, and rim jobs. It helps us digest meat sandwiches.

Fuzzed-beyond-belief Guitars

We don't have to ask for permission if we want to read very little Marx. We want to make people think about how they have endlessly seductive bodies. Stylistically, females are heavily influenced by absence.