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<Jack Chiefton>

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Post by <Jack Chiefton> »

Whatever happened to Aragorn? I miss his pearls of wisdom. Also Lazlo, I miss being insulted in a way that I need to re-read the post over and over until I get it.
<mccutcheon>

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Post by <mccutcheon> »

Lazlo is God and I love him as much as anyone I have never met (tied with Sarah) and Aragon and Ollie and those blokes from Texas are all missed. All are missed and loved (I'm still high on pills, the kind that make you smile and give the glow of a good night out where life seems worth it for the moment and even walking down the street gives a waking orgasm dream of togetherness even alone and smile and kiss and hug, hug on drugs, it doesn't last but damn does it feel good. When I'm dead I'm going to miss the drug hug) By the way Jack I blame you for Lazlo's absence. No, he is a writer, a smart fucking human being, and as I try to write I know you can either get down to it, which I'm trying to do with the two novels, or you can waste you time here. I'm so wasted I try to do both.
<jack chiefton>

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Post by <jack chiefton> »

yeah i am a virus. but if he chose to leave on my account, well, so be it.

blame is a great philosophy. i COULD blame my ex for my last 9 months of death like existence. i COULD blame my mother's absense for my last 15 years of decadence, and i COULD certainly blame my father for fucking my mother, throwing me into existence just so i can go around, scaring people off of pointless web sites like this.

But i don't, i keep on going, placing the blame on no one.

by the way, you ever really think about the word "blame?"
it's a very unattractive word. say it over and over and over until it just comes out of your mouth like a belch.

So if you want to blame me for scaring lazlo away, more power to you, i hope it makes you sleep better at night.
<jack chiefton>

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Post by <jack chiefton> »

yeah i am a virus. but if he chose to leave on my account, well, so be it.

blame is a great philosophy. i COULD blame my ex for my last 9 months of death like existence. i COULD blame my mother's absense for my last 15 years of decadence, and i COULD certainly blame my father for fucking my mother, throwing me into existence just so i can go around, scaring people off of pointless web sites like this.

But i don't, i keep on going, placing the blame on no one.

by the way, you ever really think about the word "blame?"
it's a very unattractive word. say it over and over and over until it just comes out of your mouth like a belch.

So if you want to blame me for scaring lazlo away, more power to you, i hope it makes you sleep better at night.
<mccutcheon>

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Post by <mccutcheon> »

Jack if you think Pax Acidus is pointless, well no wonder your mother doesn't love you.
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martino
Bigus Dickus
Posts: 1054
Joined: Thu Jan 10, 2002 9:01 am
Location: krautland

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Post by martino »

re-threading this conversation to a totally superfluous direction...

blame is indeed one of the ugliest words in your lovely english language.

but not as bad as my all-time favorite which is 'ointment'. A really disgusting word, when you think about it, but even worse if you say it 10 times quickly.

most ridiculous word, if you ask me (I know you're not): 'merkin'. it's what americanophobic brits call y'all. but it really means a pubic wig.

my favorite word amongst those of all languages: 'fingerspitzengefuehl'.
<mccutcheon>

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Post by <mccutcheon> »

I love German words as long as sentences.
<sarah>

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Post by <sarah> »

Hey Martino, is that where the pearl jam cd merkin ball comes from because I never got that title, as I don't get a lot of things. (I know nobody else likes pj, but I love Eddie; he's a man who uses the word fuck poetically! I've heard he's an asshole . . .who cares!)
<jack chiefton>

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Post by <jack chiefton> »

sarah-

i like no code, good cd yes it is good yes me like
<Jack Chiefton>

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Post by <Jack Chiefton> »

Robert Frost, RIP. your boring, uninteresting intelectual dribble is by far the most nauseating mind numbing shit....how the fuck can i write if i cant even write two pages on a bumbling robert frost poem? "The birches are pretty.....ahhhh see the birches bend, crossing the two darker taller trees blah blah blah"..............wasting my time! wasting my time, i hate this!
<jack chiefton>

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Post by <jack chiefton> »

ok ok- I'm starting to get an image of some sort of sexuality out of this poem. Robert, you dirty dirty old man. New images always arise when you actually take the time to digest each line independently rather than waiting till the last minute, reading the poem once and then trying to analyze.

I can get through this. Anyways, RipRap is coming up, pure honest hard working imagist poetry.

"lay these words down like rocks before your mind" - G.S.

p.s. sorry Bob, didn't mean to completely scold you in your death. sleep well and enjoy the worms.
<jack chiefton>

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Post by <jack chiefton> »

damn i shouldn't have went out earlier, now i cant concentrate on one thing, the booze is swaying me away from my work, now i just want to surf the web and play yahoo pool and throw wads of crumpled paper at Will who's sitting one row up from me.
<sarah>

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Post by <sarah> »

My least favorite frost: After Apple Picking -- i'd rather pick my nose. Of course, as a kid I had to rake apples; I don't romanticize it. To me it symbolizes a big fat blister on my thumb and maybe a couple of bee stings.

Frost was a wife-beater; that would make a good poem. Describing him; the old New England fart sitting in front of his apple orchard or under one of those birches in his wife beater attire. White tank top and droopy white arms. Yep, it'd be a hell of poem.
<sarah>

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Post by <sarah> »

And cabbage -- the worst word; it's just horrible.
Frost, the white cabbage,
In a wife-beater
Wrinkled, drooping
Writing of birches
and swings
Smacking his wife
with his limp
flacid fingers.

Ta-da! I am laughing--this is not a serious attempt at anything; Frost, the white cabbage, is seriously making me laugh like I've been smoking pot.
<jack chiefton>

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Post by <jack chiefton> »

sarah- that is quite possibly one of the funniest things i've read in a long time. Theres nothing like ripping down the character of a dead poet who won 4 pulitzer prizes.

you inspired me

fuck face frost

Frost takes to the bottle
in search of courage
and moxy, a liquid viagra
to get his old shriveled
cock up for his freshly bruised
bride. He licks his lips in
perverted anticipation, much like a fat sweaty
pale old man in a nudie arcade

"come on women, give me lovin" frost
says as he backhands her delicate
face after she refuses the lovin.
"fuck it, i'll just write a poem about
going home, getting old, beating a wife
and remaining a kid"

and god damnit, that's just what the fuck face did
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