ASSUMPTION UPHEAVAL

As I was driving in the left-lane on a three-lane highway, a car in the center-lane zipped past me, slashed into the right-lane, then back into the center-lane, clearly intending to pass other vehicles.

I've often considered keeping a whiteboard in my car for the moments when roadrage boils, or I want to give someone my phone number, or mere comic relief for my neighbor and me when stuck in traffic. I figure the whiteboard would be much more creative and less hostile than, say, 'the bird' and vein-quaking profanities. I could scribble messages like: "THE DMV IS CORRUPT!" "TEXT ME @ ***-***-**** RIGHT NOW!" "I KNEW YOU WERE AN ELDERLY, ASIAN FEMALE!" and "KNOCK-KNOCK ... CASH ... NO THANKS, I PREFER PEANUTS!"

As I was about to empty a clip of four-lettered words at this guy (I saw him; he was a middle-aged male) swerving in&out of lanes, I caught my words like a malfunctioned fishing-reel.

What if this guy was trying to save someone, or get to his child's 3rd Grade play, or get to his child's birth, or stop a nearly-lost-love from boarding a plane, or say one more thing to his mother his father his love at their deathbedside?

Or what if he's just another a**hole?


Cheers!

A Ringing Edorsement. Or Two.

1.
Here's a rare treat with a fantabulous cover buried somewhere in the middle (check around the 4:25 mark).


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UmSmi30ke10


2.
A friend of mine, who goes by the pen-name, Sir James Kurtessis, created this beaut the other day:

Psalm Deuce

The DUMP is my shepherd; I shall not want.

I maketh my poop lie down in green pastures;
   I leadeth it into still waters.

The dump restoreth my soul:
   it leadeth me in the paths of porta-pottys

   for its name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of crap,

   I will fear no runny poo

   for extra shit paper art with me;

   the germ fighting power of Lysol

   disinfectant spray and thy floral smell

   comfort me.

Thou preparest a wad of toilet paper before me

   in the presence of mine poo.

   Thou anointest my bunghole

   with splatter; my toilet bowl runneth over.

Surely poo and poo smell shall follow me

   all the days of my life

   and I will dwell in the house of the toliet and poo

   forever.

I'm researching in hopes of discovering its whereabouts -- the Old or New Intestine-ment.  I'll let'cha know.

'Til next time,

Cheers

Sexy Murder Time

As previously mentioned, two poems from my Tremulous manuscript appear in Sex and Murder Magazine.  Volume 1, Issue 10 is now available.  So czech it out!

Cheers