A Personal Message for Dr. Laura

I stuck a six-inch gold blade in the head of a girl

I say this without a Hint of Arrogance:

I Spin Gold, like Rumpelstiltskin.

Whilst Mother Fuckers climb the ladder with-

“Facts have a well known Liberal Bias.”


Here’s a Little Known (But should be Well Known) Fact-


I’m stealing your First Born. And if you can’t keep up, I’ll get your Second, too!

Maybe that’s Sociopathic, but=

This is the State of the State at this Stage of the Game.

Not an Excuse, and even if it were, doesn’t make it any
Easier to Accept , I know.
But I’m not some Boot Licking Step n’ Fetch.

(Just don’t tell DoKKKTur Laura).

Dr. LauraShe: lyin through her teeth-Him: lyin on his back

This Part coming up is…Parody.

Here. And, Here. Oh, and Definitely-


Pure Satire, Baby.

Breath it in.

Enjoy the relief b/c-


I’m writing in Real Time from the real world, and that Blueberry Acid I dropped about 15 minutes ago? Starting to Kick In.


the canvas is melting, and I’m getting the Sense that all this Sense is starting to make Way too Much Sense for one with such Tender Sensibilities as yours truly.

Just think of me as Salvador Dali (If he weren’t such a Goddamn Fascist).

As of now, the world is on Hopi Time.

All at Once.

See, you want to move from Line to Line. Moment to Moment.

You wish to find your way between periods, and commas, and EXclamations, but this is a Painting-

Not Arithmetic.

Look around.

It’s not what I’m saying that matters, but what you think I’m saying. Because I’m bound to say any Fucking thing that pops into my demented mind as the only Filter I Have is Chock Full’a Holes.

Truth is, maybe neither of us are correct in our Assumptions about what’s going on here, at this moment-


Shit, how am I supposed to know?

I’m just smart enough to get myself into Serious Fucking Trouble, but barely Enough to get myself Out.

Dr. LauraHands off this one, hands off she cried grinnin at me from hip to hip

I told you I spin Gold, Baby.

and as you well know, Gold is more often than not=

Gaudy. Excessive. Ostentatiously Ornamented. Tacky. Over the Top.

Well, here we go, bitches!

Up, and Up, and Up, and…

Okay. It’s an acquired taste.

I can write differently if you, please-

For example

Sarah Palin wants you Dead, but not until you $$$$ Up.

Straight Enough, for


Most people opposed to Gay Marriage base their opposition on the Fact that they find Gay Sex-


Simple Prejudice.

Following that Ayn Randian line of Reasoning- LetItBeKnown->

I find the whole “Au Naturale” Craze


and as a Favor, I wondered-

Can we ban them from Getting Married?

If not

How about from Appearing in Public, which I’d actually Prefer.

If god wanted us to smell like Patchouli, and Onions, he wouldn’t have invented Water.

Sure, I’m the Elitist.

Hands off, pretty baby. Tough bone then so soft to slip

This is Chaos within Chaos placed in a Box of Absurd adorned with a Pretty Red Bow Hallucination (For Good Measure).

Or maybe Music.

De-Constructed-Devoid of Melody, Rhythm or Obvious Purpose.

A Maelstrom of Sonic Confusion.


An orgasm without a Climax.

Sure. That’s probably about Right.

Then again.

Probably Wrong, to0.

Making sense out of nothing at all.

Shit,  I do that every Fucking Day.

Dr. LauraI stuck a six inch gold blade in the head of a girl

Sharks fin slices, sugar-bed slices

that pretty red hair

I love you, Now me, I love you

Laughter, laughter

Oh baby, those skinny girls, they’re so quick to murder

Oooh yeah

Shake it, baby. Shake. C’mon. Shake it, baby.



~ by fairlane on August 16, 2010.

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