Return of Kazootra (continued)
How, dear friends have been asking, could Mikey Mumbawumba contract gonorhea from an electric guitar? It's an unlikely risk of showmanship. He was guest musician at some rich Illuminati exorcism ritural, and he was obliged to play a very special song, this anthem of supernatural power, and it's such a crowd pleaser. Mikey would use a part of himself as a plecturm, while the guests cut loose into a orgy. You get some guy's climax hitting the pick-up on your guitar, where it's nice and warm, then you strum 'I Like Demons' with your dick, and sure you could get VD.
For once, Kazootra stayed home in his room in the Studly Arms. Bored, he went onto the internet, hoping to find a decent movie on the free flick site, Stoolu.com. As he kept stopping one turkey and trying another, it seemed that ever since Kate McDangerzone starred in the cult classic 'Boatnapping,' she was cast in every poor attempt at a cult film. She and random actors from the rest of the cult films that made money. The library at Stoolu was all flicks that didn't make it the first time. It was their Second Coming. Kazootra's boredom was escalating.
As he clicked through bad movies, a cut on his right palm broke open. "Damn," he thought to himself "it was a bad idea letting that Satanic guitar player I met last night sew up the gash I got when I broke a bottle on that detective's face." The dental floss had come loose, and salt from the potato chips he was eating supplied the jagged cut an with inflow of salt. The mix of boredom and stinging seemed to be two related forces acting against his wish to enjoy the useless, passing time.
.........
How, dear friends have been asking, could Mikey Mumbawumba contract gonorhea from an electric guitar? It's an unlikely risk of showmanship. He was guest musician at some rich Illuminati exorcism ritural, and he was obliged to play a very special song, this anthem of supernatural power, and it's such a crowd pleaser. Mikey would use a part of himself as a plecturm, while the guests cut loose into a orgy. You get some guy's climax hitting the pick-up on your guitar, where it's nice and warm, then you strum 'I Like Demons' with your dick, and sure you could get VD.
For once, Kazootra stayed home in his room in the Studly Arms. Bored, he went onto the internet, hoping to find a decent movie on the free flick site, Stoolu.com. As he kept stopping one turkey and trying another, it seemed that ever since Kate McDangerzone starred in the cult classic 'Boatnapping,' she was cast in every poor attempt at a cult film. She and random actors from the rest of the cult films that made money. The library at Stoolu was all flicks that didn't make it the first time. It was their Second Coming. Kazootra's boredom was escalating.
As he clicked through bad movies, a cut on his right palm broke open. "Damn," he thought to himself "it was a bad idea letting that Satanic guitar player I met last night sew up the gash I got when I broke a bottle on that detective's face." The dental floss had come loose, and salt from the potato chips he was eating supplied the jagged cut an with inflow of salt. The mix of boredom and stinging seemed to be two related forces acting against his wish to enjoy the useless, passing time.
.........
Plainclothesmen. Observing people, ordinary folk like Kazootra and Mikey Mumbawumba. Taking notes in their little black books. Following fellow travelers into the restroom. It had been a dreadful mistake. Neither man had violated the anti-sodomy ban. The cop saw one man lend another man his hanky, to absorb some of the discharge from Mikey's case of clap, and he assumed it was something untoward. Kazootra could hardly be blamed for the way he reacted. But he was now at risk of being arrested, and he was bored, bleeding, stinging and worried. But soon his mind changed. A hatchet faced old woman, thin as a post, with skin like Carborundum, was sitting in the rocking chair in the corner.
Plainclothesmen. Observing people, ordinary folk like Kazootra and Mikey Mumbawumba. Taking notes in their little black books. Following fellow travelers into the restroom. It had been a dreadful mistake. Neither man had violated the anti-sodomy ban. The cop saw one man lend another man his hanky, to absorb some of the discharge from Mikey's case of clap, and he assumed it was something untoward. Kazootra could hardly be blamed for the way he reacted. But he was now at risk of being arrested, and he was bored, bleeding, stinging and worried. But soon his mind changed. A hatchet faced old woman, thin as a post, with skin like Carborundum, was sitting in the rocking chair in the corner.
More of this later.
poem: Horse Charities
they thought that they bought Secretariat
and received
a delusional horseman of mass mendacity
when word reached the mines below the mountains
shafts filled with warm blooded hopefuls
dreams sucked into the barrel
the upward swimming hope
drew back particles of change into the conference rooms inside the syringe
the Earth gets a hot shot
this aging camper sells only Shetland ponies
factory seconds of their kind
they are wonderfully alive
I don't sell dead horses
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WvjMOl19zyY
they thought that they bought Secretariat
and received
a delusional horseman of mass mendacity
when word reached the mines below the mountains
shafts filled with warm blooded hopefuls
dreams sucked into the barrel
the upward swimming hope
drew back particles of change into the conference rooms inside the syringe
the Earth gets a hot shot
this aging camper sells only Shetland ponies
factory seconds of their kind
they are wonderfully alive
I don't sell dead horses
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WvjMOl19zyY
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