bluecityveins

a free ride inside my diseased mind.

Archive for the month “March, 2012”

fastened


fastened

i am fastened
there is no other word.
i miss it
sitting naked
with our clothes on
almost to scared to look.

i was on the cliff again
you know the one
the one that allows you to look over the edge,
across the galaxy
and eventually,
end up watching the back of your
head.


guilt button 🙂

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the heavy metal janitor journals (part 2)

10:20 am  (in the work van) winter 1998

We got the call from *Penis Fart at 10:30 am to go to an outdoor public washroom near the river. Our orders were to remove graffiti from the washroom walls, interior and exterior…. We had 45 minutes to complete this menial task.

We were having our 2nd coffee break of the morning at the time of the call. We were sitting in the white work van. We usually used the van opposed to the 1/4  ton truck when we have floor jobs on our list of horrible jobs to accomplish that day. Bad cat was sipping coffee and eating a donut, I had tea and was snacking on one of my vegan sandwiches. Like most mornings I hastily slopped it together 4 minutes before work. (I don’t drink Coffee because it  makes me sick and can cause me to shit my pants.)  Bad cat had a grimy little company cell phone that was used as a locating device by Penis Fart.  He kept it in his jacket pocket for safe keeping. I think that phone gave him some sense of importance, all though he would never admit to it.  Perhaps Bad Cat could pretend he had a somewhat respectable job when it rang in public. We both were well aware we had a loser job. Hell we were looked down at even by the lowliest of  convenience store employees. People would say hi to a 50-year-old convicted pedophile paper boy before they would acknowledge our existence. On a scale of 1-10 of  degrading jobs, 10 being the most degrading, we were easily a 13…

*Penis Fart  – A name Bad Cat came up with for our boss, remind me to explain later……

guilt button 🙂

the malfunctioning time machine notes (2)


Found this weird story in one of my many notebooks while time traveling today. Like most of my stories it was written in a child like manic scribble as though I was being forced to write it while being chased by some axe wielding pervert. Perhaps I was , who knows.

July 2003

Draino

Gordo owned  the “Raino” happy drink company. His brother Dildo owned the “Draino” sewage unclogger company. The designer that worked for both Raino and Draino screwed up the letters on the Raino bottle one day. “Draino” was selling  much better than “Raino” . One night when Mr.Raino felt defeated by the Draino empire, he said “What use is it to live in a world where people would rather buy toxic toilet unclogger than a drink that makes you happy!” He then decided to end it all, drinking what he thought was his opponents toxic toilet product to off  himself. Turned out Gordo just drank his own product because of the spelling mistake. He felt great, he accepted defeat, figuring this was a sign and mistakenly began promoting Draino to the world to drink. However it was just the one batch of Drainos that where spelled wrong and he was responsible for killing half the planet. He is still locked up to this day, very confused and thirsty.

Figured you could just waltz in and read my weird little story scott free hey, well perhaps this little guilt button will change that! ha.

The Heavy Metal Janitor Journals (part 1)


“The shadows looked like dead cats strewn across the lawns…………..the insane helplessness just laying there, lifeless, drawing on yourself, the ink spots, your white bellied skin like a dead fish and the water keeps dripping. The mind wanders down the faucets endless maze of pipes chased by a screaming echo of instant realisementation.” -me.

Me and the bad cat had just started our day. It was winter time. Bleak, hostile and hung over. The bad cat always drove the vehicle when we worked together. It was kind of an unwritten general rule. He was older, worked for the company longer and more of a in control kind of guy.

Bad cat lit a smoke and rolled down his window half way, allowing the cold prairie world an all access pass into  our once warm and filthy sanctum. I didn’t mind though, I needed the cold to wake me up. It also momentarily served as a broom, sweeping away the rot of garbage and piss stained rags that perfumed our truck cab.

I cant remember if I smoked back then. Doesn’t really matter I guess. The bad cat smoked enough for both of us and then some. Bad Cat. That he was. Why do i am call him that? Well he looked and acted like one. He had cat features, glowing blue green eyes, mood shifters. He or rather it had bleach blond spiked hair with black roots, a bum chin, and a perpetual 5’oclock shadow. Even at 7 am.

Bad cat always wore a dirty Philadelphia  Flyers bomber. The filth that stained his coat served as a map of our jobs. That crusty bit on the sleeves was floor polish. The blue dye stain was from a carcinogenic floor cleaner we had to pour in the riding floor cleaner. Whats the name of that machine? Its like a  mall version of a Zamboni. I could never really get the hang of it, I remember this short bossy dyke rode one like she was a rodeo queen.  The brown stains on the jacket were from all the cheap coffee he was prone to drinking. He would hold the coffee cup with one hand lightly touching the lid, and the other hand holding the body of the paper cup. It’s hard to explain exactly how he did it, kind of like how a bad cat would hold a coffee cup I guess.  I’ll explain the rest of the stains at a later date. Remind me….

for 10.00 bux I’ll send you a signed 8.5×11 print out of this post with an original drawing on it by me!

please help feed the weirdness 🙂

the malfunctioning time machine notes. (day one)

flipping threw an old book of  my notes i found a page that says “George RR. Martin” “a game of thrones. ” under neath that “Gimsen weed” then a weird drawing of a .. well i have no idea, and then U-Pak-383-8725. the opposite page says “sylvia” with a hard diagonal black line under neath it. I cant help but wonder what i was doing that day? The book is dated Circa 2005 .

 
I wonder who Sylvia is, or was it Salvia? Did I some how inadvertently create the the Game of thrones TV show by eating the Gimsen weed and salvia?

file under “Q”


file under “q”

i am sure of it
for what strange purpose
i have no clue.
who would invent such sickness
a purposeless purpose
of perpetual perversity,
insanity
and
comedy
did i do this?
mr.narcissist?
at least he’s honest
with his narcissist.

his pen
and
his
paper
mr.feather nester,
the constant time waster.
holographic time warp masturbator
the great human elevator
glued to a moose
on the loose
searching for the meaning
of muse.
close relatives
filed under “q” for query
quintessential
and
qualm.
the filing cabinets are stored on the barge
floating at large
in the ink jet waters
of
memories
lost.

you can purchase a signed 8.5×11 print  of  file under Q” for $24.00

please help feed the weirdness 🙂

helpfull


helpful

helpfull she walks towards us,
she opens the door for her
she wears lipstick on its face and sticks it to you
like some kind of human lipstick glue.

she is drastically out of pitch and requires some fine tuning
do you have an eye for music?
you are probably one of those people who says defrost
i am at the top of the world
i said to her
while looking down at the floor.

she asks if i have the time
this is the good time
let it spin.
famous words
from a nervous chin.

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