Creep thou loathsome tide

A. final note to all of my (ca.found)

He was going to call himself PrizeMonii but then he got it, as in he understood what it is that's fattest and most special about absolutely everything. Sparkle's always known it's only a game. That's why they all decided, Sparkle, Spaff, and FryDoh were going to be their breakout names that year. After that the whole entourage felt boundless and everlasting. Especially when they were on acid together. When they're high even their heavy shoes couldn't hold them down. So they started kissing on each other back at FryDoh's. But then they stopped the kissing because kissing was too real. It's too too Gunderson, too man on man on man of all things.
They tamped down their woodies and now it's sing along sing along all the way home. Sparkle shivers, the bus is late again. He slides his pen back into his hip pocket and fumbles for the token that he put there this morning. He reminds himself that unlike what Spaff says, all this chunky moss is for growing fat and stoned baby. Sparkle know's that he's more like the moon, he's cold and he can't shine all alone.
- Oh My Piles of David Flesh
It takes some time for Tam's rat poison to ease up. When it finally gives way and that quintessential high to kicks in, Oh MAh GOd. When it does you can't touch the way this shit feels. It's like having an erection the size of a chimney. We're suddenly two chairs under a table being really awesome. We're like our old friends back at Offenbach Press. We're gluttonous pigs with stymied arteries and the rum of all back hairs squat at our center. It's like we're right back where we started and nobody cares.
Oops there it is. It's our guy, Magically appearing inside the depth of the 8-ball just one whistle stop away from shyness and only one working day to go. We're high on the enormity of our now song. Being sung between water and the wheel, it binds and sets our day as we would ourselves to be. Messianic fervor, libidinal fantasies, desire structures that are nothing short of criminal; to whom whats passed, for they are now our question too. Too quick for the quickness of open eyes, Here's to Screwtape in my house. Here's to the old bafflement factory, the cause of the causing parade. Here's to Screwtape again. Here's his toast.
That's right toast the ghost, baby.
Quid pro none, The brick wall behind you is dirty. There are weeds under the counter rustling in the sneaky breeze, Is this it...
It's the place. When we were kids Mom would bring us out here. Me and a couple of our neighbors would get to hang out playing Internets.
Let's look around, I push on a stuffed door in the broke wall. Maybe you'll find something here, something spooky.
Probably not, Tam pulverizes a clod of hard clay under his boot. This place is a wreck, He says. Even the rats moved on.
Tam say's the joint still smells like the same combo of grease and old bush. But I say, if it has to stink like something then, You shrug your shoulders and pull a broken calendar out of the hard dirt. The equipment, the ovens in the back were abandoned decades ago. The money dried up, the people complained at first but that didn't last long. Most of them got confused and moved out before the water started to creep up over the sides of the concrete. After that the lake just got bigger and bigger.
The door in the back is wide open. I can see the fire escape, flaking vermilion steel that's fallen across the buckling exit.
There's a broken bulb hanging over the staff shitter Tam. It's like a hot tiny closet. It kind of smells like Brooklyn in here, The plunger's wreaked and there's mud wasps everywhere. BahDump Pah.
Did you catch that Buick in the lot Tay, You ask me. Man Detroit forever.
I wouldn't say no to that, not right now. Those were some good times gone.
You yell out, Bumble fuck piston getter, eat my fucking song.

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