today

almost all the students failed their science midterm, but as woody pointed out, "science is a dead end." woody only believed in sex and death. this whole thing is a joke without a punch line. school is shit stuck in a toilet that won't flush. the kids were bummed. they pouted over the pointless thing. there were the obligatory threats. "you guys have to get your act together...i expect you here after school until your grades improve." how are they supposed to masterbate under such conditions? leave these fuckers alone! but no, we won't be satisfied until we make them miserable replicas of ourselves. we were forced to memorize a lot of bogus bullshit, so let them stuff their brains with the same fare. but...it ain't fair. we are taking their time, can we at least let them keep their minds?

no, our culture wants it all. our culture will fill their heads with bad music, bad movies, bad education, because it knows no other way. we are deaf to our critics. they have been killed or made crazy, and we are left with what remains. as bukowski said "'I would like to be human if they would only let me."

confession: ate at wendy's today. got fries, a sandwich, and a frosty, all for $3.50. the cost of the heart attack will come later.

at work today it all seemed like a bad joke. kids coming and going, teachers bitching about the students and each other, an aide noticing my book and exclaiming "i love bukowski!" the teacher saying "he never heard of him" kids upset about their grades. and then, there is p from copy center. at school, he carries on like a flaming queer, high pitched, strutting like some down and out diva, but when i saw him downtown, his voice was deep as he said "hello." the man is a pain in the ass, a snob, a bore, who entertains himself by trying to bring others down. look fuckhead, you make copies! so just take out your judy garland record, (hey, i like judy too) lose the attitude, and shut the fuck up.

speaking of homosexuals, i am tired of the obviously gay guy who keeps pretending he loves the ladies, talking about how this one is hot and that one is cute and how he has to get that one's number. we all know you are gay, and it's ok. if you can't admit it to us, the decent ones, what chance do you have of ever leading an honest life? so for once, get out of the closet, and get into the bedroom.

getting tired of these fuckers who don't feel cold. shit, it's ten degrees, and this guy is practically parading down the street in nothing but his shorts. since when did wearing pants become a felony? i notice alot of people are under dressing these days. our youth for example. look asshole, i don't need to see your scarface shirt, (which by the way is as long as a dress) so zip up that coat. gays under dress too, with those little zip up shirts which never come down over their pants. ok, you have a nice butt, what do you want me to do about it? why did i ask that? also, they wear those faded jeans, and walk too fast. slow down! and white guys. what is it with these guys? it's zero degrees outside and these guys are getting arrested for indecent exposure. are jackets legal in white america? and women too. ok, i know they want us to see their bodies, but shit!!

it's cold out there! doesn't anyone else feel it??

at least the whole queer eye for the straight guy thing has died down. i have a title for a show. it's called "queer lick for the straight dick." that should get them out there protesting.

believe me, i'm not angry at the moment. i'm just using old material that was left in the can. hey, it's not as good as a tina brooks record, but it will have to do.

until the real thing comes along. for now, the stormy weather is coming. let it rainn, wilson. it's good for the farmers.

by the way, i thought art blew the johnny most. perhaps that line wasn't worth jack bruce shit, but i've already typed it. so eric, i hope you will clap-a-ton after you read it. if not, i will cream you.
ah, nothing beatles a good blog, but how wood i know, nick? ah, the puns came back in the nick of time. they tell me that martha is the root of all evil, but i would rather dance in a street of quicksand during a heat wave with jimmy mac, than accept a socialist alternative. yeah, she needed nikes because her feet were sensitive. perhaps that was why we gave her the boot? well, she wasn't as bad as james herr. herr can touch a tree and turn the leaves to flame, the no good arsonist. rebecca kaim home in the middle of all this. in fact, she came on the bed and i had to wash the ben sheets. well, i've ben there, t.r. dunn that.

till mike gold falls from the sky,

a jew without money,

along with gordon jenkins,

says goodbye