Maximum Density

I've done it again! I have acheived near maximum density. I shall seize the day on Monday by gum and start again. Fatness will be history....
Again

Also, In case I forgot...
My annual Halloween Extravaganza is TONIGHT...
7PM
All who know and love us please join us
FUN FUN FUN

Virus

Unfucking believable. Every few months I get some virus on my system that my anti virus software has to delete. It's mind boggling that there are assholes out there with enough time on their hands to be doing this shit. I picture some whacked out tweeker typing away night and day in some stinky, smelly shithole trying to conquer the universe in his speeded out meglomaniacal fantasy. I know this guy. I saw him at my coffee hang out just last week. Skinny as a piccolo, acne scars and really bad tattoos. His teeth are soft gray rotting marshmallows and he grins and capers, washing his hands endlessly at his laptop, mentally masturbating at the trojan horse he just dropped on the world wide web. Between the virus makers and the spam people, it's enough to drive a man to drink I swear. And don't get me started on spam. I sign up for one shitty porn sight and the price I pay is 3000 (that's right three thousand) unsolicited advertisements a month. I want so bad to be able to somehow call the people responsible with a magic telephone that rings and rings and never stops ringing tell they finally pick up, just to hear an evil laugh before the line disconnects and 10 million volts of electricity shoots down the reciever into their idiot grinning spamster face. I know I sound angry. I am angry. The internet is the greatest toilet of thought since the first book was invented, and these bastards are endlessly clogging it with their bullshit.
And don't expect the government to fix it either. This is a matter of just ignoring every single email you recieve from someone unknown to you.
Bastards.

Ok....I feel better now. Obviously I'm getting a little fat aggression from my poor diet.

Maybe

Words fail me sometimes
Dripping down into a deep crevice where I can't reach them
No matter how hard I try
They mock me
Remind me that I could write
Once
But maybe not again
I was funny
I was brilliant
But like silver I am oxidized and ineffective
A filthy spark plug missing the cylinder
My banner tattered and frayed the old words barely legible on its tired surface
As I look for the shocking
Or rocking or cocking or just one fucking word that brings on a tear
A smile
Laughter
Anger
Sex
A missile that blows someones world in two or at least makes a crater
But
I
Can' t seem too...
Instead I whirl and twirl dancing with those ghosts of experience
Bitching and whining about the good times
The great tastes the
More filling
And hope I don’t go the way of Pearl Jam and
Have one hit and 3 pounds of shit
But at least I'm thinking about writing
I'm imagining writing
I'm pretending to write
Or maybe it's my ghost
Shade of me whacking away at the keys if you please
bringing forth the vomit of the sub sub sub conscience and splattering it hither and yonder
Or maybe it's not.
Maybe I just dream of fame and so the words spill forth my wet night ejaculate of thought
carrying me towards lifestyles of the rich and famous and satisfied
Or maybe it's not.
Maybe I’m just empty and looking to refill the think tank again with
Some wayward drama that I observe or participate in
Some creepshow I have backstage passes to and pray for as long as I don't die in it 'cause
Then I couldn't write about it
Maybe this poem is the key.
Maybe not.

Copyright 2003 Harry R. Fagel ARR

Married with Child

She talks to me about politics
When I respond that I like her tits
She becomes angry
I just don't understand
I believe her view point is as important
(if not more important)
Than mine
I just believe that a good fuck helps the mind relax more

I ask for oral pleasures
All the time
She asks me to clean up my office
All the time
We are both such
Procrastinators
Nothing important to either one of us
Ever gets done

I focus
Really try to focus
On the art of staring straight ahead
In the gym
But she tells me look at that ass
And I do
It's nice
But I forget and start talking about it
Instead of just looking
Maybe I would understand
If I showed her the guy with the donkey dick
And she licked her lips
four times

I complain about my childhood
And bitch about my job
Im a self righteous bastard sometimes
I even holler at my son
Sometimes I'm just sad
Sometimes I'm just drunk
She still holds my hand
And makes love to me
and smiles
G-d how I love her

Ice House Poetry

Congrats to Lim and Bakeem...

I have to say that the Rebel Poetry Ice House Gig was live. There was an intense vibe in the room, and everyone was there to hear good spoken word. It is a reminder of the potential that Vegas has for great cultural events, and I was proud to be a part of it.

Diet Rite

Worthless....useless....fatbody....
No I am not being negative...
Just musings...
Really

Diet Cont...

Well I fudged it up again. Big surprise. Between a night of barbeque southern style at my Wife's friends house and a night of traditional Jewish fare at my Mom's....I managed to pack on at least five nasty ugly pounds. Therefore I hereby pledge that tommorow I will do better.
Really.
I will.

Still....I have been in the gym today...so fat but strong is better than just fat....right?

Thanks

Thank all who attended Dingle's reading. It was a real blast getting to preform after this long hiatus.

For those who are wondering how the diet is going...welllll....it sucks.

So hopefully I can do better

Tommorow....