A day

Audacious beast wants to slap birds' arses. Is flamingo edible, I ask? A large, glistening pink wing on an ornate serving platter. Swimming in my cape cod are small particles from New England cranberry farms, tended by gentle men in ties. I will be damned if your low-budget blood sugar becomes my problem. Au contraire, sweet, she replies, it will be your problem, but I fail to hear the critical part of her rebuttal because I am choking and gasping for air...

The spices in my jar of chilli mix are of an evil nature not envisioned by the Dutch. But that was earlier in the night, see? Now I stand out on the balcony, thrusting this laptop high into the sweet night air with one hand, allowing it perch over the edge, dangerously -- dangerously -- eight stories up while I type with the other hand. Meanwhile, Blame bangs away on his drums from within the house. It sounds like a box of tambourines tumbling down a flight of stairs as interpreted by a mad jazz monkey.

Would you sell out your colleagues for eighteen thousand bucks? I would.

Little Pink Ball of Blah Blah

My cruel and uncertain life carries on
Day by day I can’t help but laugh
Even with tears in my eyes
Laugh as I sharpen my weapon
My blood rises and I laugh
Another day of misfortune
I quiver with anguish and worry
Nothing about this isn’t funny
You pathetic imbecile
I’m not sure if I’m about to strike
But I’m laughing merrily
Save your strength
There’s no fixing me
In fact there’s nothing wrong
Just laugh