Wednesday, May 6, 2009

i have no idea where this will go but i am gonna put it up here anyhow

The middle of the end

Its as if it were liquid velvet dribbling down my flabbergasted mulloot of a bourbon sponge, its sweet, hot goodness enough to make Aphrodite dance to the nectar of new gods in new times, gods who feigned no allegiance, gods who were, in and of them selves, sure, pure and haute couture.
We shimmied our way out of the caddy, the drizzle dusting the mohair of my jacket in a glisteny shimmer, lynik’s mink stole bristled briskly in the mist’s moist and juicy opulence…so sweet it smelled, so fine the mist, it was as if you were meant only to inhale it’s pureness, its simple chemistry swooning you away into a time and a place where there is just a moment….and then, when its all perfect, just in that moment, you hear your name, you hear the sounds, feel the jeetering bodies warming, surrounding, engulfing you in the bask of their glory…and you there, still recovering from the epiphanic brush with nature that paints all problems a shade of solvitude that you can cocoon into’s embrace, that ya can actually sleep with yourself at night with…

And then…the handshaking began…

Lynik’s dress under the stole was a platinum shimmer, all eyes stood tall before the walking mermaid, her auroa intoxicating, permeating, eating away at all of the souls soles, making them swelter and wonder what was waht, who was a hoo-hoo, why stars twinkled…and why smelly cheese smells better than stinky socks…

Flutes of bubbles arrived and carried me away again, the warmly uplit room softening even the hardest and highest of brows and I wondered is Sven would bounce up in a Egyptian cotton myriad of flowing elegance until I noticed a very small clock, very high up, on a very big wall, its time stuck on the insidious hour of 5:05…I had no idea why it was insidious to me at the time and to this day remains to haunt me daily..

“another flute of the widow sir?” all Cheshire cat grin and mirth

“what”

“would you care for another glahss ov bubbles squire”

“what the fuck did you just call me”

“champagne sir?”

suddenly, out of nowhere, there were people all running about, as if all their conversations had gone desperately wrong and whatever they said, no matter what it was, released all the skeletons in the closets…

“daaaaaaaaaaahling, you look fabulous tonight…… I am a sadistic anorexic wearing uncomfortable shoes”

“what?”

“my husband thinks I like the lesbian thing but I am actually blowing Raul the water delivery man.”

“yes, I agree, I do look fabulous”

“I knew you would”

“Of course you did”

the topical fodder of the complacently wealthy bounced me from goof to goon, from tool to cool, from padagonia to paranoia…

I wished I was on mushrooms, laying in a sunlit field of green green green pasture, eating them right off the patty’s on which they grewm the fodder of contemporary life a boring substiture for the over indulged and whelpishly wealthy.

At least they have great taste in music I thought to myself…grant green always a ass kissing, chapstick crowd background to their verbitaltorieums, my ears an unwilling trough, their tongues a forked feather…

The Beginning of Lynik
Half apache, half French Caucasian, Lynik, ah Lynik, how to even begin to tell this tale…lets start with her body….

Lynik was not tall, not short, about 5’5”, 120 pounds soaking wet with the most amazing hip charm…old poets from all walks of life, men and women, wotre about figures like hers, the infinitely perfcect and natural absence of lines, the boobs that said “want milk” to the lactose intolerant and the smile to charm a whale into buying water…she was hot, red hot…scalding was to be in proximity, about to boil was to have her gaze, to boil…..a man really had to be a man to be the rooster plunged into her boiling water and keep his plume and his cockscomb…

My wife’ll kill me

“She already has” he said in my head

She’ll eat me alive

“And you know this’

And she’ll eat me alive

“Absolutely”

I felt the flute of bubbles melting in my hand as I approached her, my libido running on ether, testosterone and the intoxication of pure, raw heat, its rush burning, buying, burying my nervous system in a blush that turned my glass of the widow to a rose…the closer I got, the harder I got…it was like Viagra….on crack…and I was glad, really glad to feel the rush again…

I never saw the bump on the highway to hell, but as chance would have it, my wing tip caught a snag in the rug (were there even rugs in this place?) and I found myself being pushed by sir isaasc Newton himself into the volcano, and all I could hear in my head was…..
Stop
Drop
N
Roll

So I did, sort of….stopping was not in the cards, stumbling was more like it and into the volcano of her beautiful breasts I plunged, suddenly and only for a second fulfilling a dream of mine when I first saw her across the room…then I teetered on the edge of the volcano, this being the moment before N obviously and saw myself in another life passing before my eyes, a paunchy gulag boy getting reamed by some brit school marm finally breaking through it all and being “kink ov dee vorld”…..and then I rolled and rolled and rolled to roll and live…oh what a feeling to have her under me, her shoulders and butt pressed against the hardwood floor, her back arched like a swan being teased from behind and craning its neck in such an arch that it defies imagination

“what the fuck are you doing you panda fucker”
“what”
“get the hell off of her!”

I turned my attention to her turquoise eyes, supply encased in brown, high cheekbones and said

“do you want me to get off?”

and then it happened

she laughed
she laughed so hard it began to rain
she laughed so hard that hunger was no longer a world wide problem
she laughed so hard that I had fallen onto love and into it all at the same time
and then something else happened….

My hard-on broke through the buttons of my batik slacks and buried his head smack dab in the middle of her honey pot, her gorilla of a hubby unknowing, her jeering turned to leering and in that quick second before I realized she wasn’t wearing any panties and that I was suddenly Winnie the Pooh, and I had stuck more than my hand in someone else’s honeypot that we both started laughing (of was she crying…) until niagra falls fell down our cheeks

she laughed so hard I came….and she felt it….hard

I backed up and he saw the glisten on my still pretty, pink, stiff prick and I suddenly was very very aware that the bottom of my stomach was telling me something….

it pissed the gorilla off

hulk wanted to smash until I said those fateful words….

“I’m a euneuch”

“What’

“yeah, I just wear a strap on for appearances”

the gorilla found no humor in my jest and it seemed like it was “clobberin time” for yours truly until she stood up and said…

“I haven’t been fucked in public since my uncle red claw of hawk had the whole village break my virginity…honey, didn’t I ever tell you?”

I thought the ape was going to go berserk

I just wanted to put Woody Woodpecker away (woodpeckers have no conscience in the affairs of pecking) and slink away to a corner far far away, with lots n lots of self validation…away from all scrutiny save my own….but….things don’t always work out in the fantasyland that is the human mind….

Her public confession about public deblossoming (commonly referred to in some cultures as a “gang bang”) did nothing to quell his anger at my errant, accidental and deeply and primately desired penial invasion, and she didn’t squirm to pip him out of the socket either…she laid there and gave me a few staunch hip grinds until I came, he losing her husband and all others in that same moment as I, the whole room going a bit darker, the sound of nothing sweeping through our senses, then lighter and lighter and more light until the moment had passed, and there we lay, her wedding gown a flutter, my wet prick sliding out of her…

I was transported

The baboon grabbed me by the scruff as only someone who beats animals would and I was ejaculated from the premises by his own two hands, gruff, crusty, angry….

This is gonna hurt” I thought…and then, the strangest of strange happened…I saw the opportunity for a second moment of glory…as I had had no time to put the elephant back in his cage, as he threw me, I came again, and this time, like a donkey at a Tijuana “ancient cultural dance” show

The big monkey was coming to finish me off as I lay there, stupefied, my face a likely candidate for his boot..until he slipped on my load…they big mamoon slipped so hard on my slickery leftovers that his head sounded like a hard, brown coconut being cracked with a big, ruddy and rusty cleaver…

I was speechless

I just killed a professional MMA fighter by losing a load

People began to gather and fuss, I put the boy back in this button holed leisure suit and tried to make as dignified a “standing up” as I could….I then too, unknowingly, stepped in some of the rivulets from the toss, losing my footing and ironically falling onto my downed aggressor.

I heard the deep throated raucous laugh of a Cherokee in her and knew I would have to die at some point just for being with her….and it was alright…I was content to accept fate into my life…religion, politics, and advertising had all left me with an unsatiated feeling of plump arrogance and diminished ego from my 70’s kidhood, before people supersized everything, before being a corporate whore was quickly becoming the worlds newest “oldest” profession, before my dog knew how to eat coconuts,,,,and somehow I knew that the rollercoaster was now open for riding and I had the front seat AND the rear seats when and if I wanted. I love the deadly sins…..they make life so much more colorful by their innate purity in the spirit of the moment of emotion....AND THEN I FELL ASLEEP