Lying Sadist Junkie

" - "

He gotta be! How on Earth = in Hell would a Man otherwise accept such a lousy, measly pay?

He wouldn't. He wouldn't. Unless he were a...

And here we go again.

They are the same people who see sexism everywhere.

It is the Apocalypse, all right. But I still don't think my noggin would make anybody's lawn awfully picturesque.

http://www.health.com/health/gallery/0,,20428990_2,00.html

They Say I'm Depressed

I'm Odell. I'm an addict and a surrogate father in Jonestown. I was, of course. Before I lost my faith and, as they say, everything with it.

How do you recover from that?

To be honest, I didn't have much of a faith to begin with - except for the nurse with whom we went looking for the survivors. To bring them back to the armed guards and the spiked Kool-Aid. That was the plan, at least. But I thought that in the end, we would improvise.

Well, we didn't. 

I wanted to say something. Now I can't seem to remember what it was.

Wait a second. Hold on. Stay tuned and drop dead. I've made some notes, but they are of no use to me now:

http://invaasio.nettisivu.org/devil/

As they stepped beyond the crossbows, Odell realized that he would have to kill the nurse. Fortunately, she instructed him to look in one building while she searched the other. Odell entered the nursing office and made his way to the back of the building, where there was a senior center; most of the people there were bedridden.

"Are you the man who is going to take us up there?" an old woman asked.

"You know what they're doing up there?" Odell said.

"We know."

"I'm not the man to take you."

- Tim Cahill, "In the Valley of the Shadow of Death: Guyana After the Jonestown Massacre". Rolling Stone, January 25, 1979.

http://www.rollingstone.com/culture/news/in-the-valley-of-the-shadow-of-death-guyana-after-the-jonestown-massacre-19790125?print=true

Why Do I Insist on Finding out Although It Makes Me So Sick

Dubrovnik Seen from the Wall

But this is a different story, different century.

So clinical, so inhuman - it has no blood in it, no life, like dying without death, it goes on forever.

Now I understand the title of the film Drowning by Numbers.
I don't understand it, I feel it. And assume that if I understood better,
I wouldn't feel so bad. I would fight,
or just forget about it.

A Night without Men

You can't hurt us where we don't want you. A demon dropped that on me one night, and, after (a) studying it, (b) tasting it, I concluded Mii was not to blame.
¤
Then someone peed on the roof of Centre Pompidou. You know who it was, I'm not naming no name. Mother of Goo smiles, shoo, so innocently. And the gargoyles, poor bastards, with mouths agape, just hang there, dry, in memory of the male ape.
 ¤
They have nothing to say. That's design for ya. On a cold, bright day.

¤     ¤

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