Monday, November 8, 2010

The Tale of Travelin' Grime.

Grime was on the ground and he was stuck to it. He basically relied on people to step on him so he could get around. But boy did he get around when he got around. Also when he got around he’d have little pieces of him left behind, often w/ a slimy grimy stringy separation. But what he’d lose he’d pick up somewhere else, off the bottom of some shoe or from wind blowing some piece of krap onto him that would then be classified as part of Grime.

Smile was a phony. Total phone balone. He showed up and was debonair and smooth talky.

“Hey Grime, lemme make you a deal. I’ll sell you this krap that will clean ya up and everyone will see ya as clean!” Said Smile.

“What? Don’t you understand that basically all I am is ‘not clean’. So if I clean my ‘not clean’ then I am literally nothing. Plus I'm already mostly krap so why do I need more krap? What? Am I gonna rub krap on krap and make krap disappear?” Grime said all that in kind of grizzled sort of grimy voice, by the way. In case you heard it differently.

Smile was devious because sometimes he was genuine and sometimes he was a she. That’s right Smile was a woman too. Nevermind that though. I’ll keep calling him a he. Sometimes he was genuine and sometimes you couldn’t tell if he was trying to get something from you.

Grime was miserable a lot, but he had nothing to hide. He was well traveled so even though you wouldn’t wanna give him a hug all the time, he might be important to have around because he can tell some tales. He’s experienced some hardcore stuff. One time he was scraped off something living and flung through the air, kicked around, then sat miserably for like 8 months, then scraped off, scrubbed off and then stepped on again and sat in a closet. Somewhere in there was a breast. Not sure how he got to wherever he is not, but I know he’s not in a closet. 

One time Grime had to challenge Smile to a duel and he got to show his true colors. Yellow teeth. A grimace. Grime realized and so did Smile, that Grime and Smile weren’t so different. Behind Smile was actually some of Grime. And they realized they must be from the same place because their names kind of sound the same. And now the lesson that you just learned is that you should rub grime on your face. 

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Muscle-Bound Ira!

Muscle-Bound Ira didn’t have glasses and wasn’t a body builder. Oh shit, you ask, what the hell was he? He was just a regular guy. But he kicked some serious butt, right? Nope. Nope. Well he must have been a real bookish dork though, huh? I mean “Ira”? Cmon. Nah, huh-uh, he was well read but not like devoid of communication skills or anything. Well he probably was a real nebbish. Nah he seemed pretty level headed and that’s because he was. Well he probably got picked on a lot when he was young, that’s what forced him to become muscle-bound. No, no, he had a regimented eating and exercise and sleep schedule so he was always in pretty good shape. He also avoided drugs and only drank on special occasions. Well did he clean house in the babe department? He wasn’t a womanizer or anything if that’s what you’re wondering, no. Did he feel the urge to prove his masculinity to himself? Like I said… He saw some people, had some relationships. Some didn’t work out. Parted on good terms. Still friends, all nice people. Was he ever worried about his future? Making ends meet? Muscle-Bound Ira just stayed focused on his goals, but not to the point of exertion and exhaustion. He supplemented his free time w/ plenty of hobbies. You know, Chess, Checkers, Stencil, Drawing. Shit. Well surely he’s bound for a nervous breakdown. I mean look at this guy! No, he’s not nervous breakdown-bound, he’s muscle bound. Goddamnit. I’ll bet he had strict parents and they beat him into this mold of society’s idea of like that perfect behaving man. He’s bound to burst any second. His parents were loving people and he’s not burst-bound, he’s Muscle-Bound. Well did he ever use those muscles for anything awesome? Like beating up a bully? No he studied Tai-Chi and has always been a good talker, why do you want Muscle-Bound Ira to have such a dark side. Tai-Chi? Ha! So he’s some New Age weirdo. Can’t stand those people. He’s not a character in a story that needs to have some sort of conflict. But everyone has some sort of conflict! Not Muscle-Bound Ira, he’s balanced very well. Perfectly? No, no one’s perfect. Ira has to have some sort of conflict, HE HAS TO! Otherwise no one is interested in hearing about him! Well maybe that’s what’s interesting about him? I hate Muscle-Bound Ira… I hate him. His life seems so goddamned perfect. I owe a lone shark two thousand dollars, my mother doesn’t speak to me, and I’m noticing this thing that is an odd-shaped mole on my shoulder. But can’t afford doctor bills. Why isn’t anyone making a story about me? One day I hope to meet this Muscle-Bound Ira. I will make his life a living dying hell! Just, like mine! Oh that’s very nasty. Shut up. You have a poor attitude- I’m going to leave you to yourself.