December 17, 2009
October 29, 2009
Live Updates from the Hottub
ssandrigon
About to soak in a hottub all afternoon with @grainnefrances. We might either shut off all communications, or, alternately, live-blog it. ssandrigon
Decided to live-tweet instead. Have infiltrated the pool area of a schmancy gated apartment complex in downtown oakland, with flavored vodka ssandrigon
Live-twitting from the hot-tub Part 2: reading out loud "The Hunting of the Snark", interspersed with Allure mag, history of pantyhose &c.
ssandrigon
Live-twit no. 3: This apartment complex is BRANDED: it has a logo. Their pool should be deeper & hottub hotter. ssandrigon
Live from the hottub no. 4: This musaak is beginning to get to me, & I think the unnamed Baker has come across a snark...?
ssandrigon
Live-twit no 5: It was a boojum. We softly & suddenly vanish away.
August 06, 2009
Evacuate the Species Prayer
Like a pocket of railway steam in the morning, let us come home,
And eat lettuces & pontificate.
Free your televisions from their cages, let them out to be free to roam,
Let them play Jack Benny's violin, let them eat your grandmother's famous baked ziti,
And eat cabbages & recreate.
Can we ride this train towards Salt Lake City,
Or pay for it with pocket change or redecorate the White House with graffiti?
Like a pocket of railway steam up your nose, I suppose,
Orientalled & occidentalled,
I would dress up like a hero to rescue you, tight pants over my pantyhose,
Flying over Brooklyn like Whitman or Hart Crane the hobo,
Cemented like they were entitled,
Accolade the empty air bestow,
Don't you know the off-tracks, the lost train & stony loco-voodoo blow.
Like a pocket of railway steam, bespectacled westward,
Myopic but not nearsighted,
But some men take their railway liquor to the buffalo herd,
But some men sew a pocket below the hole in their pocket:
The rubber trees blighted,
Ediford's automobulb in its socket,
And boom. But some men take their troubles up in a crayfish rocket.
Like a pocket of railway steam at tea, let it be me
Who eats the spinaches,
Let us drink Hennessy thru Tennessee & set free our shackled teevee,
Open tributaries, meal to meal I'm skinnier & full of honey,
Until the minstrel finishes,
And out drops funny money,
Open tributaries of the great river, crossed & cross-eyed as Christ's Easter Bunny.
Like a pocket of railway steam, evacuate the species,
Take it all to Californo,
Exploring empty empathy toward yuppies & the doomed humble-bees,
Take these leafs out of the busted refrigerator car, make a giant salad by the side of the tracks,
Trade it for Hart Crane's porno,
Replace what the planet lacks
With girded iron & 1980's pop, & gird up for when the mothership attacks.
August 01, 2009
Song: "Come Ride the Bleck Ram"
Black Ram Whisky is a smooth Bulgarious ride, a ride which Mr Quill's friend Martichka first took us on. We also spent a lot of time in Bulgaria riding buses from one town to another, sometimes riding the ram while riding the bus. This song is inspired by those experiences - - As I was telling Grainne yesterday, there's drinking songs, then there's songs of alcoholism, & then there's Black Ram.
If you require to download this mp3, the album Stuck Home Syndrome available here! Friends around the Campfire on facebooks here!
I apologize for the nonsense, uncorrect bulgarities, obscenity, taboo & inside jokes in the lyrics, but that's about all right:
Come ride the bleck ram!
From Силистраto a hide-a-bed in Варна!
Don't take me till I'm gone!
And the duner in my mooner is a goner!
Can't you see Kirstie Alley is confessing messy tendencies!
Може ли десет черен овен свирки in the Bleck Sea!
Come ride the bleck ram! наздраве! Ramsploitate me as I am!
Come ride the bleck ram!
Ride the кратки автобус like a кретен!
Don't take me till I'm gone!
Come to Пловдив for whatever heavy-pettin'.
Can't you see I would smear Amara Karan in my panties,
Може ли десет Бяло Мини Братство & Bleck Parties!
Come ride the bleck ram! наздраве! Ramsploitate me as I am!
Come ride the bleck ram!
Ride that shuttle to Попово's cuddle puddle!
Don't take me till I'm gone!
Get a tattoo of your butthole in your butthole!
Fantasy of a future where the culture is all ramified:
Can it be I see Ivanna Lynch and firewhiskey at my side?
Come ride the bleck ram! наздраве! Ramsploitate me as I am!
_________________________________________________________________
Please "like" our band The Manna Tease on facebooks:
More shameless advertisement:
My illuminated nonsense rhyming poetry book - only $2.15 on scribd.com:
June 15, 2009
Manatee Brand Gay Hannity Dijon Mustard
MANATEE BRAND
GAY HANNITY
DIJON MUSTARD
"I hope you enjoy your very special mustard, Mr President"
Art by Grainne Proinseas.
Marketing Initiative Spearheading by Essąn Dragone & Enid Darius.
Paid Advertisement.
backstory Dijongate....
June 10, 2009
Wound-Slurry in my Dirtiest Panties
This might have to become a regular segment... The google Analytics I set up a few months ago, which tracks statistics on this site, tells you what keywords people have searched to arrive at your website in the past month. Thank the world for continuing to google strange things. There's always a ton about Michael Jackson's testicles, purple flags of the world, & a new favorite is "lepiota lutea", the yellow houseplant parasol mushroom, which is currently the second most searched-for term to arrive here. I weeded thru about four hundred last night & picked out my favorites for the last month.
--"new mexico" mushroom penis
--blanket jackson looks like his daddy
--botch of egypt
--can a pervert and a womanizer ever be cured of their desires and disease
--castrating a boy
--christ told his children, i know life is fucking crazy, but i’m here to tell you there’s a purpose behind it
--dirtiest panties--hello muscle palace rupert's mail address it appears not to be being positively. nya the inside inside the cotton 3 all helped the mail does not see anh ass why .... and reply it entrusts certainly . i language ardency maybe too much without ? it peels anyhow and phyey the use method petty egg it lights and it gives. only is like thatgoodbye
--laura bush fake photos
--osservatore anus--percontation point
--photo of young guys from bulgaria
--rahm emanuel born of a virgin
--shall not a dog move his tongue
--studly guys--what is some of the things that could happen if you are not sir cumsized?--who sings this: we've all seen men at the liquor store begging for your change his hair on his face is dirty dreadlock for the main. he asked the man what he can despair with shame in his eyes, get a fucking job is all he replied.
--wound-slurry
May 30, 2009
Introducing our New Sponsor: Manatee Brand Man Panties
Marketing Initiative Spearheading by Essąn Dragone & Enid Darius.
Paid Advertisement.
November 15, 2007
Saga of Jenny
I.
I had never felt this style of pain, with no paranoia & no worries.
It was during the year I was dating a woman named Lousera Comasquerapes.
We were necking in the corner accompanied by the mariachi band, Los Sphincteres.
Somewhere an identity was altered,
Luckily, the thief's violin sonata was deterred,
So, tone-deaf, my ego faltered,
Hiding behind the drapes in God's mansion, here we go, the enemy of the future escapes.
In the end, Lousera was too busy for me, waiting for her savior:
Perhaps it was his dipsomania or the crypto-syringe which held him up.
Bicycling across the ocean floor, past millions of species & ravaging war,
His name is called Terrific,
His rat-ass is less specific,
A cowboy deep in the Pacific,
Her bus-stop bench is worn down, after his journey, he could not have smelled equipped.
I remember Lousera Comasquerapes, she was my grandest lover, a wild beast:
In high 1995 outfits, we would take to the clubs, like the bawdy eclectic.
I haven't seen her in two years, a child is born, the wings of a swallow at least,
And where is Jenny thru this to-do?
She's smiling in San Francisco,
Warm & curing a missing flu.
And we were dancing upon the throne of days, green-faced & ecstatic, anticipating the phone to click.
Astronauts, where are you, where are the prodigal lagomorphs, where was I?
Our brains are infected by every local notion, our hearts, heated,
Naked & cross-eyed, ravishing beauty, fuzzy on the top, & on the bottom, fuzzy.
In 2002 she stank of piss,
I had never been intimate with such ugliness,
And found happiness in this abyss,
Trampled by a herd of Giant Unicorns - Revived Thin-Plated Rhinoceroses - wasted & smushed but not defeated.
Thru the worm-hole to heaven, our native housing project,
My perceptions were down, but I think Lousera Comasquerapes said to me:
"Come from the West, my love, my largest towel is open out of respect.
"Dry up the wine stain,
"Complain, what remains of the pain,
"I will accept but not explain,
"Come down from the ceiling crack, come to my bed & be forever free."
Aching, Lousera said to me: "The bricks fell down,
"I am your girl until Holmes Comet, we'll go around the omnipresent,
"We'll return to school early like a mathematics prodigy, stoned & hewn.
"I cannot hear Jenny chortling kindlies,
"I see her jalapeños blindlies,
"I feel thirst in my dirtiest panties.
"Follow me until you're done with me, drink me, eat me, like squab, like squirrel meat or pheasant."
Still life with sore knees, shush, an Indian sailor playing a harmonium!
Lousera Comasquerapes came to me & said: "Build up our crazy coastal city,
"Study the asphalt & iron, drive insanity, confused noise & rum!
"Cannot eat last year's banana-fish,
"Cannot sell next century's laguna-fish,
"We have caught our final tuna-fish,
"We have ruined it, over-stocked, clogged this traversable passage to that black hole, without love, without agony, without pity."
II.
Now in the hospital, nude under my robe, watching the nurses float by,
Lousera is out there somewhere, exasperating her patience.
I feel a story pass from a Pentecostal Minister visiting without his bow tie:
About a proud brother returning,
A festival, & the older son learning,
Not to be envious of the world's turning.
And Mary & Martha & Louise & Johanna, mirroring my mindlessness, prancing over the sleep-sheep's fence.
I need affirmation, a lonely old playboy, a pilgrim to everywhere:
I've lost sensation in my legs, but gained peace in East Asia,
Like a subterranean conquistador, moles & voles & treasure enough to share,
A black man & a visible man,
California, the entrance to my lifespan,
Risible & before time began,
Lousera's humongous breasts are weighing down the basketball court, a monstrous ancient buffalo of pleasure & echinacea.
The machinations on the board of supervisors went unnoticed by our spies,
But not by our progeny - but I had been transferred to oblivion by then.
We failed to nourish & educate, but not to distill certain right revolting energies,
The fireworks will be shot,
Whether I watch them or not,
I'll be a robot on a planet of rot,
Her vexation at this dimness, piloting a ship of shit, towards unknown husbands, letting slip the final amen again & again.
For the price of these battles, we could send every itinerant into deep space,
Kicking off my doctor's cacophony & vile prophecy & violent deities,
I replaced them & wasted them & now those old girls are distant from my decaying face,
The police won't let him pull my plug,
His diagnosis is a reluctant shrug,
He swept my hours under his toilet rug,
And the nurses on water around me, expanding my imagination, a rampage of youthful infernal disease.
She called me on the two-way radio, she said her wet dream train was finally arriving,
Some serious lamentations! And a few good jokes, and six hundred varieties of fungus,
I poured a double shot into a glass of ice, & recalled the years of living & conniving:
"Come stretch your pinions & hold me,"
Lousera Comasquerapes once told me,
"Yoga & pilates & a hot toddy,
"Every activity is our unique joy, I am a sow in a gestation cage, covered to my canopy in excrement & moss."
Aching, Lousera had said to me: "Come mount me like the lifting up of smoke!
"You cannot complain about which portion of the infinite you inherit,
"Just love it, Sandy, & do your best not to trash it, like an archetypal pig-in-a-poke,
"And wallow in perfection,
"Our waste is another man's confection,
"Greek proportions & Washington's erection,
"My entire living room is filled with pillows, soon is the jubilee year, our baby will forgive our debt."
Found in a forest of briers & thorns, Jenny made her mind up when she was three,
She's there for her kindness, a pirate departing with the next cannon,
I was never warned, it's done, & also leaving, Lousera Comasquerapes had said to me:
"You'll die far from Golden Gate Park,
"You'll regret every song heard in the dark,
"And Christ in the form of a walking shark,
"You'll keep discovering things you couldn't have believed, just be present, & I must give up for adoption our infant son."
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