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Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Paper thin Perforation

I received a Pepsi pen at work today.

It was not a very good pen.

I am still in utter bemusement as to how Pepsi, an international multi-conglomerate giant, can possess the ability to concoct a liquid candy but cannot for the life of them create a written utensil that dispenses peoples basic blood soaked dreams!

Pepsi, your sugared stench boils my blood so hot, that my eyes have ceased to focus on these written needs. I want to lash out at you with my staggered dagger of prose. I want to burn and maim your syllabled court! Your quill is unkempt Pepsi, your marker is nibbed. I want you to know, that your inadequacies share no secrets with me. So misfired fountains, leave me be.

P.S: The Bic Cristal was the SHIT.

Saturday, December 19, 2009


I once heard a story. A story of these ticky tacky creatures who like to plod on around inside people’s head. They often like to dance a prance that spark cobblestones underneath their cotton hooves. Free to fly they move with frantic beats to the cadenced sound erupting in an infinity near to this day.

Come Dancer, come Vixen their thousand hushed whispers began to cry. For there, beyond the rise of draped dreams sits a man hollow in the empty shell of his chest. There he waits for the clocks to strike their boom while unstirred beams discharge him from his creatures final dreams.


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