Archive for June, 2012

An example of my complete inability to be an adult…honest thoughts…why the fuck would I want to? To work with her? Dilemmas…Life. Pot.

June 28, 2012

Mike –

 Per our meeting on today regards to your constant absenteeism and tardiness you have agreed to switch your start time from 8:30am to 9:00am.  If this problem continues to occur I will have no other choice but to terminate you.  I believe you have great potential but you hold the “key” to your destiny.

Again It’s extremely important for you to be present and on time on a daily basis in order to be successful in your role.

 Thank you


(for our reader’s benefit: I’ve been stoned and drinking tequilla all day today, I’ve come late into work at 9:15 the past month and a half (with an official 8AM start time, unlike this official note indicates), not sober, and now finally after a team meeting with a bunch of 54 Mondays complaining about my tardiness (think: fat, lazy, ugly, unhappy…all the words our forefathers founded this country against) I had another shit-face’d afternoon-drunk’d meeting today with this e-mail message to boot, everything attempting further and further to scare me into the burrows of corporate America’s safety… all I can say is my “key” is shaped like a cock and could fit quite nicely into Kimberley’s mouth)



June 28, 2012


Kliph “the fucking man” Spurlock

Chicago is marijuana friendly, finally. A good day for the good guys, the ones trying to be friendly despite a world of ever increasing unfriendliness. It is easy to wonder why it took the powers that be this long to tie it all up, then you stop wondering and start connecting the dots, once you consider the process and the people involved with creating this type of social change. The hypocrisy, the lies, the majority morality, the untold sums of moneys earned imrisoning teenage minorities… the track record America has accumulated fighting marijuana is FUCKING ABSURD.

The war on drugs,  the drinking age, the outlaw of gambling… Who have we let get in charge of 21st century America?  I have some ideas… the girl who tattled on you in gradeschool for saying ‘crap’ in the dug out of a kick-ball match between Mrs. O’Ryne’s and Ms. Gilfooly’s classes… those bushy eyebrow’d shits that called Metra police because you reeked like pot on the train ride back from the day’s trip to consumeracapitacentra… text messaging mother’s of five Polo Co. wearing cross eye’d tikes… the penguin parade of suits stepping out of their Taxi Cabs and zippering up their plastic little fly’s before the quick trip to the barista… feel-copping slaves of their television sets… a generation still in love with their parents and proselytizing on behalf of the Regan administration’s ghosts… it’s getting a little easier to see now, isn’t it? They are the one’s who have bought the MiChrOstianitySoft version of the bible, annotated and updated quicker than CERN clocks a spinning Higg’s boson…all to make them RIGHT.

I am glad the rational side has somewhat prevailed in this particular city at this particular time, but I don’t see the honeymoon lasting for long. Decriminalization is not legalization, and too many other systemic cancers exist to make this anything worth celebrating… bankrolls are only growing bigger while my saving’s account struggles to stay above the mandatory minimum. More cameras and CCTV are on the way…tapping cell phones, recording bank transactions…we are becoming a society obsessed with watching itself in the mirror, double and triple-checking the tabs to see if we’re trending… all while the big fish hire analysts to discover where the next dollar might be wrenched from. That is their draw, their scantily dressed Greek woman on the shoreline, the dollar squeeze…  it is the only dream they can sell you… and as long as they guilt you into feeling like every other God-fearing man and woman out there is after it, they’ve won.

We have been cut off from the spirit worlds, but now at least we can be stoned while we try to re-establish connection. Still, remain vigilant and be on guard for the JPM’s and the BofA’s and the ChaseManHat’s…killers in the snow. They won’t go away so easily.

Flares from Corporate America’s Shipwreck’d

June 27, 2012
“The condition of the masses, in any period we choose to select, has always been deplorable.”
-Henry ‘Hit Man’ Miller from Air Conditioned Nightmare

It’s impossible to write in here. Today is one of those Wednesday’s that would’ve came out a lot nicer as a Thursday. Thoughts and emotions and kinetic back and forth’s fly between pores in my skull and sometimes they miss the openings, banging up my cranial ganglia like BB pellets kicking cans off fence posts. In my physical existence, the movings and goings and goings of these half-way well-dressed semi-professional businessmen/women keep me twisted in a web-site hunting, Adirondack Winter weary stone glaze, searching continually through the face of my computer screen for whatever I should be looking for. My spiritual world… a void.

We had a firedrill today at work. A firedrill. The clipboard and the teacher’s voice…a schoolyard scene implanted in my head for years, back to life just in time for my mid twenties… but when you were 6 you didn’t have to worry about the monotony and desperation that permeated every step of the stairwell down eighteen floors of 225 Jackson Street. I’ve just received an e-mail saying “You all did an excellent job of evacuating all floors quickly and safely.” We did it. Hooray.

I’ve exhausted any worthwhile material that ever existed in this place. The well has run red blood dead. That’s it.



CUT THE KIDS IN HALF… if you don’t dig Radiohead, then get the fuck off my website

June 22, 2012


In the Basement series… this set features the mighty King of Limbs (without a pissing doubt the best album of 2011) after the boys had recorded in similar settings when they released In Rainbows. Wait for “Supercollider” at the end of the toolbar, it will be worth it… until then good Fridays & good things & GREAT VIBES, as it were the solstice passed through our celestial centers, so allow those last moments of orbital energy to surge. Whether ye be collar-cut saints or bad boys in the back of class, just remember: it’s only your head… or the teacher’s…

One more reason to send BofA to the far (bloodier) side of Hitler’s Stygian Boat Launch

June 19, 2012

Be sure to pay your ATM fees…what a bunch of mudsliding capitalist bullshit. Sure, we’ll let you take out a million bucks off a fucking ATM, but then we’ll wait four years and send you to jail for the rest of your life while we ride the bailout and continue to overcompensate CFO’s. This man should be lauded for his actions, turning $300 bucks into a million…what could be closer to the American dream? This whole ‘overdraw scam’ is how I put myself through the end of my senior year of college… rat bastards, keep milking ’em dry.

First Day Sober (poem, not today)

June 19, 2012

I walk down the steel tunnels

See my angels

Legs, hairless, resplendent

pillars of love and fuck

and hope, silent blonde

dark light white black,

I dream life into them all. A taste

at the front of their eyes,

a glance up,

a smile down,

they tickle past me and

disappear into the city’s

ether, forever.

For those ones, I turn, to impress

one last image of their

themselves onto my soul,

but whenever I do

another one, running up front,

 fast and upset

at my eyes, stuck onto

different flashes of light…

I try to apologize,

they dissapear too.

No half pints or smokes outside

the office, no need, not

with that last smile… golden locks

and fiery iris, lapis lazuli

beauty. She curled up and breathed

life into my stumbling steps,

direction on these aching


No, no, no half pints today.


June 19, 2012

Nothing else between or before, firing firing firing… this is it. John College has realized his graduate school potential. Freedom, freedom of press and of mind and of heart and of spliff and the pressure pushing back from front row hand railings, this is what we fight for. To say and to speak coherently and functionally and outside of the constraints holding together the gassed tracts of humanity. Don’t breathe in the poison, instead DO… do it all. Write smoke drink think play see shout run and fight. Not for victory or for hope or sustainability, for the NOW. For what we all need.


Stop, sicker than the last we saw

We stopped, for a second

It hobbled, and hastened and lights lights

Lights hit it in the face

This piece of life was once a college dream, but now nothing

more than another ticker

on the tape parade

SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT. It hurt and we

hit and that’s it.

You didn’t want victory…