96 lines
4.9 KiB
Plaintext
96 lines
4.9 KiB
Plaintext
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$$ .d""b. .d""b. HOE E'ZINE #1027
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[-- $$""b. $$ $$ $$ $$ -- ------------------------------------------- --]
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$$ $$ $$ $$ $$ss$$ "Fam ly V lue"
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$$ $$ $$ $$ $$ by Anodyne
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$$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ 02/27/00
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[-- $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ -- ------------------------------------------- --]
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$$ $$ "TssT" "TssT"
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Warning: If you have killed your parents inside you already, do
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not read further.
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[-----]
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My father once told me that his ex-wife just _loved_ to suck and
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suck.
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All day long, son, she would just drain my balls. Of course, I
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loved it, but...
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And one time, son, I sat on the edge of a bed in a goddamn Bates
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Motel somewhere near El Paso with a bottle and a gun and I chose the
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bottle. My life has been so rewarding ever since. Now I can pass on
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these goddamn stories to you, son, instead of rotting away unidentified
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in the sewer.
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"But you're rotting ME away, Pops."
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You've given me nothing but trouble! You aren't my son until you
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graduate from goddamn college!
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Looking back, "A rolling stone gathers no moss" would have been
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more original, but:
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...Oh yeah, the goddamn college that Mom sent me to after my crack
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habit overwhelmed my wallet and had me dipping into yours. That precious
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flow needs to stay away from Paco Degenero, the neighborhood rock man,
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and go to Jack Daniels like its supposed to. You earned that dough
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slaving over a hammer and nails when your degree in history didn't land
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you a job. Work sucks. No way to see that one coming, eh Pops. I'm
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not bitter, it's just that when you spank me I know it's fake but when
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you yell I think it's real.
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I'm glad Mom found you. She must have been out partying one night
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and seen you in the corner raging against the walls. "What a fine
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looking stud! I think I'll sit on that rocky knob for a while and ride
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him into financial freedom. Looks like he can really kick some ass, too,
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and keep me safe from all those loonies." A clever woman she is, to be
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able to ignore you for so long and convince you of love so well without
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being torn down with you...
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Of course, that day I just nodded and looked down into my lap at
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my torn jeans and Marlboro logo peering out from my shirt pocket and
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cried. I cried softly and mostly to myself so you wouldn't hear and call
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me a faggot.
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[-----]
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Mom says you are manic depressive, but I argue that your pills are
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your bottle, are your cigarettes and your endless slaving work days and
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your ten cups of coffee and your life and despair. Thanks for
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reproducing, I surely do appreciate it. Someday when I'm rich I'll come
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back with my wife and show you how thick a wallet true love makes, and
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how effortlessly it happens.
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[-----]
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Do I need some pussy? Yes. Do I want some? I distrust birth
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control. It is real fun to look at yourself and your family and only be
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able to notice that the world will be better off if...
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This is just going nowhere. Fuck you, Dad, you are dead. Fuck
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you, Mom, for playing him out. Mmmm.... fucking Mom. Now that would be
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a blast and none too difficult, what with the joyous state of the
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marriage and all.
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My mother was fond of telling me to stay away from girls.
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I appreciate the advice. Remember how easily you control Dad, you
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cunt? Remember how strong you are? I am ten years old and I'm going to
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realize you are just being cute. Sure.
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So I am going to make a big file cabinet in my head with a drawer
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marked "Freud and Forget" and put this text file in there. Then I'm
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going to make a big ocean in my mind and toss the file cabinet in. Then
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I'm going to make a enormous craggy asteroid to smash into the planet,
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careening it into the sun for disintegration.
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When a race of beings resembling Quetzacoatl become self-aware on
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Pluto in twenty-five thousand years every ray of sunshine will still have
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some residue from that cabinet.
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I'll just be doing my part in helping them invent firearms.
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See, my dad likes guns. He has eighteen guns. See Dad shoot!
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Shoot Dad shoot!
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Girls, its not about his penis, its about getting ready for the
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end of the world. There is a great need to prepare for the End Times.
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When those fucking punks come a' lootin', he'll be ready. They won't be
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laughing for long when they see his two barrels smoking and their buddy
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enjoying a new career as a mural.
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The Red Cross can keep their bottled water and canned yams. Dad'll
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keep his eyes sharp and finger tendons loose. He is a product of the
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sixties but never quite forgot about HIS parents every time he stuck a
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whore or toked a bowl. Every time he got free love and harmony, I mean.
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(Grand)Father was right! I am nothing! I'm COMMIINNNGG!
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Kill your parents inside you today. Unless they found true love...
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[-------------------------------------------------------------------------]
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[ (c) HOE E'ZINE -- http://www.hoe.nu HOE #1027, BY ANODYNE - 02/27/00 ]
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