Saturday, December 18, 2010


A classic Christian execution
at fledermaus HQ.

And the moon burped at me,
the moon spit at me.

And I,
I farted at the moon.

Sometimes I regret what I said
about dreams
because this time
you were stripping in the car.

The bruise of horse manure
because it is pleasant
does not mean that it's soothing!!

Friday, December 17, 2010


Someone wrote me, "I'd put money on this: you are one of two who didn't use Google to find out what i was talking about." We were discussing the current state of affairs in these dark ages -- namely Wojnarowicz's The Fire In My Belly and the Smithsonian's completely shitty, wuss-out -- and the above quote smacked of the such smug elitism. Maybe we're fighting the same battles over & over again but I'm convinced we're achieving great breakthroughs in cynicism.

The horrors of social network one-upmanship. Years ago, my friends called them "secret wars" and we all succumbed to the sting of paranoia and a subjectivity that barely kept in touch with its sibling. Now we're here.

And look here where it's not all that different and that's on me. There's a way of needing that I know now & it would be the bee's knees to chip away at that to reveal what's below. Trying to surround myself with that vibe is troublesome.

The wishy-washiness of liberals is horrifying & the absence of heart from the right is never surprising. I hope you're not sitting down cuz all that jerking of knees has gotta' leave bruises from the seat in front of you. That goes for me too, brother.

"Cynicism is my whiskey. And I had a few."

Congratulations to Pope John Paul II for making Time Magazine's Person of the Year.

And my apologies if that has seemed like a conversation between me & me. THIS IS FOR YOU.

Sunday, December 12, 2010


What if it were the last day of Earth & the first day of your period? Or if you hired strippers for your end of the world party & they showed up way too drunk? I heard a story about how a friend was ragging on a stripper's bodyguard for looking like Jared from the Subway commercials. He yelled "Hey Jared" one time too many & the thug flashed his piece.

The constant bombardment of information is so overwhelming that I don't think I could "tap into the zeitgeist" if I tried. What is the zeitgeist? Does it matter whether I can figure out what it is?

Drug culture is weird but this is the future & the future is so wild. There are whipped creams that gets you drunk. Four Loko has been banned but you can't suppress greatness. Some creep(s) will figure out how to make FOUR LOKO HOMEBREW.

Richie & I popped The Whip at Elks Lodge a couple nights ago and man it was good. I MADE A NEW MIX FOR THE OCCASION. Brad Hales was our guest and the selection was spectacular. If anyone has a line on even more "secret" bars in town, do let me know. Dark rooms with billiards & smoking in the back?

Last week I DJ'd an auction of prison art. This was my buy: "Passion Fruit." If you catch word of one of these auctions, you must go.

Home life is good. Someone said they thought ENB and I had broken up because I wasn't covered with bruises anymore. Outside right now it's the storm of the century.

Silence is golden, but a whisper is a treasure.
In the field of clichés
we straddled a horse together.

And when a baby kangaroo cried in the distance
how did you that make you feel?

Saturday, December 04, 2010


". . . it’s pure insanity to tear the zombies away.” A little booze changes their eyes into human “boob reflectors” -- which just goes to say that Lane’s boobs are pretty remarkable projections in their own right.
The semi-tropical atmosphere of the Wabangi Lounge -- home for such famous dances as the Watusi, and the old Wall Street slogan: “You bangi me, I’ll bangi you” -- adds background to Lane’s dancing style. After a couple of hours of pounding flesh, Lane begins to sound like a kettle drum. In fact, they fired the drummer because the beat she makes as her teats pound on her stomach, creates a more dramatic effect anyway. And once those old jungle sounds rise from the chasm of her chest, “honey” drips from the zombies’ erected cones.

Tuesday, November 30, 2010


That summer was unreal: I was eleven or twelve years old and the humidity was unbearable. Everything was slo-mo'd out. I couldn't bear to hear the neighbor kids laffing in the yard.

This past summer, ENB spent a month living/studying in Italy while I stayed back, in the deep shit of a huge project while taking care of the little man.

He was sick but I didn't know how badly. Meanwhile, the project became another full time job. Rarely did I leave the house.

Sometimes this city is such a joke. Any time a lil' storm comes along, power goes out everywhere. People get the crazies. I ran out into a wild gale in my boxer shorts without realizing my balls were exposed via a hole in the fabric. I screamed into the storm & came back inside.

But there were moments of respite & humor.

But I couldn't tell you what was going on for the life of me. What was up, what was down.

And I can't tell you how much I still miss the little man. Sometimes the wound feels so raw.

Friday, November 26, 2010

My good friend Richie & I popped The Whip in Hamtramck this past Wednesday & it was a night of surprises. We had a live guest: Eddie Kirkland, one time member of Otis Redding's band and John Lee Hooker's second guitarist. The man is 87 years old & whipped everybody; we had to unplug his amp at 3:30AM or he would have kept going. Tonight, Eddie & Richie play the last Gories show for a while. Also: RICHIE MADE A MIX FOR THE WHIP

Mike had a monster holiday party at the hair place. An unnamed band played a looooong set of Jefferson Airplane songs in a reggae style. Not a lot of fruitful conversation that night but many, many tasty licks.

ENB & I saw LUCKY DRAGONS play last week & it was a highlight of my life (one of many, of course!). There's something about Lucky Dragons. A realistic idealism. Punk rock taken to its logical place. And the jams are amazing.

There's a new show house in Ypsi called Chain House (formerly known as Stupid House). It was me + a bunch of noise doods + fist fights = success!

Sunday, November 14, 2010


My friend Richie is a beatnik. He plays drums for Danny Kroha, is Dennis Coffey's DJ, and puts out books. He's also an ace DJ and we started a new party called The Whip. The first one was a month ago and I MADE A MIX for it which doubles as a love mix for my best gal.

Two friends were just blessed with warehouses. We found all kinds of stuff inside one of them: live shotgun shells, a box of straight-up turds, a motorbike seat Mike had been looking for, cassettes of cursing lawyers, etc. Haunted space!

Over at the other warehouse, they were in the business of setting chairs on fire. Flames from the final blast licked the camera lens.

This warehouse had an ornate spiral staircase that lead to a tiny, banal office for dwarves -- a small room with tan carpet. Very spooky. The staircase didn't lead up into the room but ended at it. Inside the room, the mouth of the stairs is just a hole in the floor.

My homies in MI AMI made A MIX FOR 20JFG. DMM has this 100% SILK thing going on now too. Busy bodies. They're really changing up their shit right now & it's getting weird. Weird great.

I've been telling people that my new band is a young woman tied to a pole, a free jazz drummer stationed 20 yards away, and me & another person pretending we're not involved but trying to prevent people from "rescuing" her. The cops came to our first show.

ENB & I spent some time in the country last month. I told the father of my best friend's bride-to-be "not to be a pussy." It was a mistake; he was a forgiving host. ENB pumped rounds into the fire pit.

It's almost impossible to flyer in this town. Some dickhead told me that I should rent a "pole-like kiosk" specifically for flyering to be installed directly next to poles. He split when I asked him to pay for it.

Chacho finally came to me in a dream. We acknowledged that it had been some time since we last saw each other & spent the afternoon playing in a yard. We danced, let him shit on someone else's lawn, and played hide & seek in the house. It was the simplest, least weird dream I've ever had.

Thursday, October 28, 2010


"Would you like to come back to the loft, dearie?" asked Otis.
"Naw. I got to fry some fish. Some big 'uns."
"I'm talking about a big ol' kettle. All kinds of fish." Junior licked his lips.
"Oh really?"
"As a matter of fact, I'm thinking about a hairy clam or oyster right now."
"Oh yeah??"
"As a matter of fact, I can think of some tuna that needs attending to right now."

 Junior didn't look at Otis. He turned and walked toward me with the index finger of his right hand pointing directly at my face. His finger moved in small circles. For a moment, I thought he may be scrutinizing my nose.

"Yes?" A bead of perspiration slid down my neck and was absorbed by the fabric of my collar.
"...interested in the house? They call it the Eagle Pound."

 He pointed back toward the dark house that sits next door to the Baron's apartment complex. Spray painted gold, the front gate sparkled magnificently in the light of the street lamp. The profound red of the house gave the plot of land an almost royal quality despite the perverse, rugged urbanity of the surrounding area. It was only hours ago that I'd arrived in town with a new bag of clean underwear & a cheek scarred by windburn and here I was being offered a prized location in the community.

"You'll note that while this is an excellent neighborhood filled with many fine-looking houses, this particular house is not as nice. For that reason, it's cheap enough for a single person such as yourself to rent & enjoy; not one of your friends has a place this big. I find this will justify the fact that I will not do anything for the maintenance of the house."

 My friends, I thought. These are my friends, aren't they?

"It's the house my wife was killed in. I hate that it even exists but money is money. I imagine she would've wanted me to continue renting it. Or, no I don't. I don't know why people say that kind of shit. I do, but you know...."

 I thought about it.

"Monsieur, I'll take it!

Wednesday, October 27, 2010


He said to the sweet little thing:

Why hello there you sweet little thing! I didn't even see you coming my way and don't know how neither what with your natural radiance lighting up the night like this. Girl, you are a beauty. I love what you do with your hair.  You got a natural class. I can see your thighs in the stars and I wanna smooch 'em smooch 'em smooch 'em. I wanna kiss you on the wrist. I'll take you up to the trees. Some of them have little houses in 'em. What do ya' say, little darlin'?

The master of the house had carved a tunnel in the earth below the stairs; a cave of black sand with a host of rifles stacked neatly atop shelves. She remembered the rifles and how the stairs had rotted away to reveal the rifles. She and her mother saw the rifles. Then they saw the cave.

If she can get to the rifles. The moon lurked like a skull hovering above the staircase.

Saturday, August 21, 2010


union leaders
with their mustangs 
and fancy toupées
talking to burger,
modeling laundry
crushing little tabbies
like a curse.

Monday, June 28, 2010


conceptual whorehouse
vaginal video
reputable satanism
sobriety allergy
horny chatter

Monday, May 31, 2010


Something's obscene.

Something in here
is obscene.

What is it?
What is that thing?

Sorry, father!

Sunday, May 30, 2010


The paper
had the photo
of the winner

A bat in the face
a prize winner,
photo in the paper


So where is our hero?
With his tennis racket?

A bat in the face!
That is no prize!

Friday, May 28, 2010


by Ted Kennedy

His jaw was sore; sore like he’d been making out with a pillow for hours.

His neck throbbed; throbbed like he’d puked all morning.

His beard wasn’t growing as he’d hoped, and the motorcycle still sat in the front yard.  It needed a coil pack, but they don’t make those anymore.  Or so they said.
The guys on the softball team called him whipped, you know… by old mama ball and chain.  But he thought different.  If they saw how she treated him when they were alone, then they’d know.

Last night he showered in front of her for the first time.  He was embarrassed for them both.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010


Q: So, any plans for 2012?
A: Let's just say I've got a couple reminders set in my phone to buy milk & toilet paper.

Q: You're a bit of a visual obsessive. Have you caught any docs about 2012?
A: It was often touched on in the various doomsday docs I was watching around the millennium. What do you think about 2012?

Q: I really don't know anything about it save for some basic premises. At any rate, do you think it's strange that hollywood produced a  2012 movie? Can you think of other movies about doomsday that aren't alien-related? Why would Hollywood make a 2012 movie?
A: I think the 2012 phenomenon and subsequent film makes sense. Although it seems like they would have made a year 2000 [doomsday film] but I can't remember one. Except maybe for TV. But now that you mention it... no aliens... huh. Well, I think Nic Cage has been in one. I think.

Q: Do --
A: Yes, he was:

Q: This is not a well written blog.
A: I thought it was a newspaper.

Q: Yeah, but, anyway. You have no belief that the doomsday events of 2012 could occur?
A: None whatsoever.

Q: Is it because you're an atheist?
A: I don't think the 2012'ers necessarily believe in god(s) but my atheism and 2012 skepticism probably come from the same place

Q: Anything else to add?
A: I desperately hope that there is an apocalypse and that I am alive to witness it.

Sunday, May 23, 2010


 When I see someone reading the Satanic Bible, I just laugh. It's funny to me. I think: “What the fuck??”

 First of all, to be a satanist, one must deny themselves that real emotion of feeling like a "cheap thug." Imagine a clammy, unpleasant basement. On the floor, a whole lot of dirt, dirt going up the walls even, and what's that strange smell? Imagine wanting to be down there, but you are down there with someone who does not want to be down there, and you are wanting the least bit from that person. But this is a feeling being described, not an actual event.

 A satanist begins to take part in the enjoyment of that emotion, having fetishized it in effort to destroy that which innately tells us, "for we know when we are being little, and awful, and wrongful toward another Human." But to be a Satanist is ultimately to be a selfish, emotional bully. Imagine if you will, a kernel of peculiar, impotent rage in the heart of a hairless, 3ft. tall Hitler and you have a close approximation of a Satanist. Still, we must ask: but what is feeling little?

 The physical prowess of common Satanists is an oft-debated subject what with top notch  specimens such as Glenn Danzig but Satanists are gluttonous hedonists by nature and therefore not physical powerhouses at all. Chip snacks, cakes, Whatchamacallits, Mad Dog 20/20 and other sugary items are the food domain of Satanists.

 Perhaps now I should clarify that while aspects of hedonism are not "wrong" in regards to a creating a broad generalization of the hedonist movement, there must be a limit to hedonistic impulse. Hedonism can lead to extreme sexual deviance, drug abuse, home foreclosure, and shoplifting.

 When a celebrity is caught, arrested & persecuted by the law for shoplifting, do you not psychically witness the trail of hedonism that lay before this event like a trail of gasoline leading to a blazing inferno? Comedy writer George Carlin said something to the effect of, "every time I see a photo in a newspaper, I wonder which of these people has had deviant sex since it was taken." It makes you wonder, listener: What act did Owen Wilson commit that caused him to take upon a sharp blade in hand and make an attempt on his own life? It has been joked that perhaps it was one night at the museum too many but I digress:

 Many Satanists believe themselves to be clever, independent individuals but they are not. Even the Black Pope himself, Anton Szandor LaVey, the High Priest of the Church Of Satan was not clever enough to avoid being evicted from his home, the infamous Black House located in the hedonist paradise of San Francisco, CA. Now, much detritus litters the front yard of the former Satanic headquarters: mattresses, phonebooks, stray dog buns, abandoned toupees, the candy necklace of a raver, a leopard print beanbag chair, old viewmaster reels, a plastic watermelon, and an unused container of lemonade mixing powder among a number of items now relinquished and forgotten like so many children's toys.

 Like so many college freshmen purchasing their first Mos Def compact disc, so too do teenagers have a phase in which Satanism rules. Teenagers are attracted to Satanism like white on rice.

Friday, May 21, 2010


by Travis Alexander Galloway

Tara was impressed by the abundance of driveways in Allen Park, all of these choices. (Pulling out of randoms)

Without her bootleg ADHD tabs, possibilities screech.

Hurricane/Tampa Bay Lighting jersey/Heavy handed radio shuffle push

Inside her home (1990’s collage art), Tara spreads moon blood across her walls, arms spread like a champion running into the arena. The family room has RED levels.

Passion pile up on the X-Files mouse pad. The walls cheer and roar. Tara is a flame.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010


 Q: Do you believe in 2012?
A: My deeprooted intuition knows already. I mean, I used to be really into it during high school when I listened to nu metal. Like Hed PE were the first band to bring it to my attention.

Q: But do you still believe?
A: I believe in psychic awareness & positivity. I don't believe angels come down from heaven. In the end, I think it's kind of stupid but true.

Q: Nu metal.
A: Yeah, Hed PE was my first insight toward it.

See also: Travis Galloway's Earth Dust Blunt

Sunday, May 16, 2010


Tanya was delighted to be in Asia. She thought about the peculiar foreign trees she would see and how they might smell.

In Japan, she will be referred to as "hakujin." Would pizza taste different there?

"The pizza is totall diff," said Coney. Coney was an American artist living in Hong Kong.

"Really?" she said.

"Yeah, they're fucking serious about it over there. I mean, over here." Coney licked the syringe. "And the crazybread is delicious."

'I love Asia,' thought Tanya.

Coney looked at her as if he could read her thoughts.

"I love pizza," said Coney.

Friday, May 14, 2010


by B. Thomas Hunter

"Have you ever sleepwalked across state lines?" Moshe Rabbenu asked me in a hushed tone near the microfiche in the basement of our poorest High School. His cock pressed tight into denim: a rival, not a friend.

"If Eden was a time, and not a place, it would be those first days of Spring. That terrible season...." He trailed off, distracted by the glow of some neon light, a creature of El, yet un-melt-able.

Gershom and Eliezer had wandered in the desert. That damned wilderness. Why were they forsaken? He said He'd catch up to them but He was nowhere to be seen, and they had done all He had asked. Their foreskins, shriveled away, blackened by time. Brit milah, a covenant between Him and the tribe they had lost. They sweated and sang, and above all rested for everyday was their Sabbath. Their beards had grown long and complacent. Their brows furrowed. Their fields fallowed.

"He's never going to show," Gershom whispered.

"Did you know I once had a cock-ring made of solid gold? It turns out my Grandpa made it out of stolen Jews gold and the Shoah Foundation came and took it." You were wearing a striped shirt that made you look like a comical burglar. "America is the Black man's battleground!" you screamed at the top of your lungs. We were on a roof. A track team stopped and stared.

They couldn't afford a skywriter, so the note read: MYSTERY, BABYLON THE GREAT, THE MOTHER OF HARLOTS AND ABOMINATIONS OF THE EARTH!

Tuesday, May 11, 2010


Q: 2012. True or False?
A: Totally false. Totally false. So, why would 2012 -- it's so stupid, its like the stupidest ever. So, these Indians from South America I'm sure.... No way did this exist -- this is the stupidest thing ever. They didn't know about Europe? They didn't know it exists. It's the most retarded thing I've ever heard.

Q: Are you afraid of 2012?
A: Not at all. Being afraid of 2012 is like being afraid of a ghost that knows karate. Ain't gonna' hurt ya': it doesn't exist.

Q: Were you afraid of Y2K?
A: Oh yeah, I was scared shitless at Y2K. Oh god, the guy came on TV to use an ATM and I was so happy when it worked. I acted like it didn't phase me. It's a computer, it can do anything. I would love to read a Y2K book right now.

[This is part of an ongoing interview series. Full disclosure: I'm really looking forward to all the crazy 2012 parties bound to occur.]

Friday, April 30, 2010


All your BBQ bibs & diaper needs.
Introducing the world's first period diaper: for women only!
"Period diaper or not, I'm going to stay in. I've got titty-tangles."

Hooking up during a Joni Mitchell LP.
What do you call that mood?

The mustard stain on the letter jacket was visible in the lantern's light.
"His name is Cypress Hill;
can you guess where I was when he was conceived?"

What goes on in the monk frat??

Sunday, March 21, 2010


30 Nickels
Neti Pot
The Day the Hippie Ripped Slime
Pickled Grapes
My Place Within the Avant-Garde
The Chocolate Sauce Was Delicious
Man, It Just Got Weird in Here
Farm in Moscow
Nerds, Turn Your Image Around

Hear more @

Sunday, March 07, 2010


Terry Jacket - "My Sissy's Crackers"
Monna & Little Jeff - "And Her Hair Was Super-Colourful"
The Birdhawks - "No, But Will You Marry Me?"
Topher "Blue Mouth" Magillacutty - "Curled Dress"
Marnie - "(You Gave Me a) Cubic Zirconia"
Tyrone Petals - "She Had The Runs For Me"
Mary Mary Mary - "Your Husband, My Husband (2 R 1)"
Lil' Holiday - "I Cooked You Some Corn"
Peter Billings - "Risky Night Porter (I Heart You)"
Samson & Delia - "Bunned"
Charly Boy - "You Don't Know What Was In My Bed (A Snake)"
Suuna and Corna - "Sleep With Me in the Witch's Corner"

Friday, March 05, 2010


by Frederic Wertham

The counsel showed me the record of a conversation he had with Irwin. It contained passages like this:

Q: Are you insane?
A: I'm not as crazy as the rest of the world.

Q: Was it against the law of God and man?
A: Those are exact opposites.

Q: Was it against the rules of society?
A: It was against the standards of this predatory group.

Q: You mean you set yourself up as the judge?
A: That night I was was the judge.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010


The doctor called them wolf peppers and the staff loved how they tickled & scratched at the same time.  But this isn't about the doctor. This is about the UPS man.

Holding a wolf pepper, the UPS man dryly said, "You know what these remind me of...." The staff rolled their eyes. The UPS man took one home to his wife. His wife is really "The Stuff." They met at a fireman's ball while he was still a top swim coach. And married to the mayor.

Spying the UPS man talking to a former club princess, the mayor promised she would whittle him down to nothing if she caught him flirting again. He flirted. She whittled him down. He became a cop which is most certainly nothing.

He was able to work his way back up the social ladder in the next town over. The swim coach gig was kind of boring anyway. "Not as much 'tang as you might expect," he'd later say.

Friday, January 08, 2010


Slow pan in as Laura sits next to Mayor Kahler-Ruck. Both have eyes closed w/ hands at their sides. A large cordless phone sits on a plank to the mayor's right. A small thud is heard as the sauna door barely opens & closes, Laura opens her eyes.
LAURA: Awwwwww shit!

MAYOR: (startles to attention & stands) What's the poop??
A hummingbird flies into the sauna, circling the ceiling wildly. Laura reaches into the back of the mayor's sauna diaper and removes a revolver. The mayor ducks & falls to the floor. With a single shot, Laura hits the bird causing it to fling from the sauna as another patron is entering and into the shampoo room garbage can.
MAYOR: Hot dammit!! Nice shooting, Laura. Wow, I got a real kick out of that! (reaching into a black gym bag) Here are they keys to the city!
The cordless phone begins ringing a dixieland jazz tune. On the other end is the mayor's bodyguard, Link "Celery" Stevens.
MAYOR: (turning to Laura & motioning at the phone) I got a billion dixieland ringtones on this thing!

LINK: [EXT. DAY] But what is up though!? I've picked up five dogs for you to choose from."

MAYOR: Gimme all five of those fuckers! (turning to Laura, placing his hand over the transmitter component of the phone, raising both eyebrows excitedly) They call it a 'Nixon!' (returning to Link) NOW WHAT ABOUT MY FUCKING CIGARS!?!?!

Tuesday, January 05, 2010


women sit around
the rainbow cake

a skull eats
a tab of LSD

the season of pins

someone asked,
"why aren't you happy?"

Friday, January 01, 2010


at the hole where

we set a book of magic on fire
we set a watermelon on fire

the braiding parties were insane
a teenager listening to "pretty vacant"
as seen in a photo

so you see
i've been doing some living too

all was well
until we found lice

and had to take the ad off craig's list