Archive | July, 2014

Batman vs Superman vs Out of Africa vs Good Will Hunting

30 Jul

                         Batman-Vs-Superman-Zack-Snyder

How Hollywood Could Make Batman Vs Superman And Remake Two Other Movies At The Same Time, Thus Inventing the Good Will Hunting of Out Of Africa influenced Superhero Movies 

           Superman’s mad at Batman because every time he bumps into the parentless prick he busts into some fucknut speech about how Superman isn’t living up to his Kryptonian potential and how every time he parks the Batmobile outside the Daily Planet Batman sits there for a little while before going in, dreaming that Superman won’t be there, that his desk’ll be cleared out and Perry White’ll be screaming because Superman’s left to do something really important on account of the Newspaper Industry’s dead and if he was really interested in saving the world he’d throw all his alien spandex power into Cable TV because “Breaking Bad’s over! How’s the world supposed to live with the gap?!” and when Superman tries to tell him to fuck off Batman gets all up in his face threatening to put the Supe’s Justice League membership on Lay-A-Way, and he’s all “I swear if you don’t spunk up I’m gonna put it on Lay-A-Way!” and Superman’s like “You best roll out of my face rich boy” but what he actually says is more like “I don’t know what that means!” but Batman won’t let up and stuff so Superman reaches a point like we all reach a point and punches Batman so goddamn hard that he goes sailing into the air, landing thousands of miles away in Africa where the next day he wakes up delirious in the middle of a bleak coffee farm with an outrageous case of syphilis, hallucinating Robert Redford with Alfred standing over him and Alfred’s all “I am Alfred, Sabu” and Batman’s all “Christ, I thought we’d agreed to grow dairy” before luxuriously passing out into dreams of blond-headed biplanes and the Jokerless face scars of a Mombasa strip mall where dead parents thrive and wealthy little white kids always get their way while meanwhile, back in Metropolis Lois Lane’s getting it on with Wonder Woman and it’s amazing because there’re two of everything, four of everything in some cases I mean BOOBS ARE EVERYWHERE but when it comes to that point upon which the height of their simultaneous orgasms have come knocking both women scream out the name ‘Clark!’ at the same time and then also at the same time both women immediately get really pissed and because Superman has Super Hearing and is also a bit of an alien farm boy perv he’s been listening to the entire thing and because, depending on which comic book storyline you’ve been reading, he’s technically been sleeping with both ladies during the same timeframe though be it at separate never-both-of-them-at-the-same-time-together-different-times Superman decides it might be best to hide out for a little while until bra straps are re-strapped and everyone has a chance to calm down so he slips into the nearest theater where they’re playing Daredevil for some goddamn reason and Superman’s all “What is this shit? Ben Affleck is fucking terrible. Whoever cast this should be banished to the Forbidden Zone because nobody wants to see this schmuk walking around like he’s a superhero.” and at that moment Zack Snyder pulls his dick out of the $8 hooker named General Public he’s been fucking for 10 seconds because he’s got this strange feeling that somebody’s out there screaming at him again and when the hooker says something like “What’s wrong baby?” Zack Snyder says “Nothing” and goes back to his fucking and two and a half seconds after that the hooker dies from a broken heart and un-stimulated vagina and another three seconds after that Zack Snyder cums.

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Stay

24 Jul

                            thegift27

Stay

as in to not go
the un-left
the opposite of hearts breaking

let us not live
with chalk outlines
and the stench of severed addresses

let us live with
the absence of leaving
instead

(from my book, Avenge me, by Get in the car, Helen–Baobob Tree Press)

Walking Down The Same Alleys We Used To Walk Through Before You Left Me

22 Jul

                                thCAHVI8AY

(another one from my book: The Aftermath, etc. by Get in the car, Helen–published by Nate Jordon/Monkey Puzzle Press)

walking down the same alleys we used to walk through before you left me

 

I walk down the one

that shares dirt

with a church

 

the exact spot where we both stopped

one night

long before this nightmare

had ever heard of such things

                as dreaming

 

coming home from the bars

3 blocks from our apartment

surrounded by the chocolate syrup

                of night

 

and you had to piss

and I had to piss

 

so we both did

what we needed to do

 

which back then was the same thing

 

we both had to piss

 

so we did

 

you on one end of the block

and me somewhere in the middle

 

that’s when I saw the cloaked man

appear like a fucked up Geiko commercial

                from the shadows

 

he was a cop

 

and I heard him say something to you

that I can’t remember

 

your pants pulled up real fast

during the exchange

 

and then he walked over to me

as I re-sheathed my own

                weiner

 

shaking his head

as he quoted me the current

laws against public urination

 

I tried to explain to him

that we lived only a couple

                of blocks away

 

and that we weren’t drunk driving

we were just drunk walking

 

and that there was nobody else

around

except him

 

and surely he’d been in a public

bathroom before

and witnessed complete strangers

urinating

 

ergo: nobody gets hurt

 

he wanted to lecture me

on the sins of peeing on a church

 

but I rebuked his verbal charges

insisting, which was true

 

that I wasn’t peeing

‘on’ a church

I was peeing ‘next to’

a church

 

and then I started laughing

and he started laughing

 

and then just like you’ve done

now

 

all these many months later

 

he turned his back

on the whole thing

 

and let us go

Aquariums, NY

22 Jul

                                         41816_145773085452962_3159_n

(from my book: The Aftermath, etc. by Get in the car, Helen–published by Nate Jordon/Monkey Puzzle Press)

Aquariums, NY

Between the orgy
of yellow sunlight      and      brown coffins
bugs beat the living shit
out of each other
and then spend the next seventy minutes
buzzing around their own
beaten out shit
like bugs do
testily oblivious
listening to track 4 of Chinese Democracy
       over and over again
yapping about
how the world is neither
        round nor flat
it’s pile-of-shit shaped
while at the same time
sitting at a small table
off to the side
our daily tombstones
drink Bloody Marys
              and talk about
the last time they were all together
            and went spelunking
            and fought about history
            and made love all night long
                      like an angry Bob Barker
                      dressed up in a cowboy
                                shellacked thong
They talk about
all of these things
and smoke cigarettes
until the bill comes
an event which causes
everything to go uncomfortably quiet
            like a dirty fish tank
            beating off to
            an old postcard of the sea
forcing the sentimental pile of shit
around which all the bugs have been spinning
to mumble something about
the stubby miracle of hope
as it exists in the age
of dead romance
and being that the tombstones
are such cheap unshakable bastards
and constant acquaintances
the waitress should stop waiting
for death to do the right thing
or be chivalrous
and just put all their drinks
on shit’s tab instead
which she does, almost begrudgingly
as the fish tank
beats off
to the sea

The Whole Damn World vs King Kong

18 Jul

                             king_kong_1933_01 (1)

The Whole Damn World vs King Kong 
 
            Tell her your theory, Carl.
            Carl has a theory?
            Carl has a theory.
            About what?
            9/11.
            Everybody has a theory about 9/11.
            I know. But Carl’s theory has to do with how the World Trade Center could’ve been saved if King Kong was still alive and had been there because he has experience batting down airplanes while hanging on the tops of tall buildings……
            ‘Building’ actually. The Empire State Building. In the movie there was just the one….
            Yes. Fine. Building.
            Or maybe ‘buildings’ if you’re talking about the Rick Baker in a monkey suit remake…
            We’re not talking about the remake. Nobody should ever talk about the remake.
            Or that Peter Jackson thing where King Kong’s ice skating in the goddamn park. A grown ass monkey ice skating, I mean. What’s up with that?
            I’m right now pretending you didn’t say that. The point is Carl’s convinced the Towers would still be where they used to be if King Kong had been around to save them but he’s not around because we live in a post-love world these days and ……
            Post-love?
            Yes. Carl says love’s dead. Murdered actually. Butchered in its sleep, but not quietly. It was only taking a nap when….
            Wait. What killed love exactly?
            You know. The usual. Narcissism. Fear. Greed.
            Idolatry.
            Gluten Free Pop Tarts, Stub-Your-Toe-And-Sue Accident Attorneys.
            Ben Affleck movies.
            John Mayer Records.
            The Celebration of Ignorance.
            Profit Based Monopolies and their Manipulation of Faith.
            That reminds me. Did you happen to catch last night’s episode of Duck Dynasty?
            No. Stay on topic! We’re talking about Carl’s…..
            Right. Terrorism and King Kong. The Overdramatically Pronounced Death of Love.
            Exactly.
            Wait. I’m confused. Carl, I’m confused. What the fuck’s Love got to do with King Kong?
            Carl says Love and King Kong are the same thing.
            How’s that?
            Carl’s watched the original movie about 500 times and has convinced himself that Kong is the Stop Motion manifestation of pure and selflessly self-sacrificing affection. The way he falls for Fay Wray in the jungle at first look and protects her from the giant monsters with absolute zero regard to his own safety…
            They hadn’t even kissed yet.
            ….and how when they get separated in the city he loses his goddamn mind without her and stomps around lost until they’re reunited again, which is when he does the ultimate sacrifice thing…
            Yeah, I’m not sure I’d be all excited to do that if we hadn’t even kissed.
            …because he’s in danger he believes she’s in danger, but he’s gotta know that she’s in no way into him and the thing is it doesn’t matter to Kong because he loves her. It matters and it doesn’t matter. Get it?  And her safety’s more important than his own safety and all that so he takes the bullets. Love takes the bullets. For Fay Wray and everything else. Gunned down by Fear and Greed and Duck Dynasty……
            Ok.
            I know, right? Is that right Carl?
            Don’t answer that Carl. I’m thinking. Narcissism and Pop Tarts. Ok. So what, Carl’s saying that the airplane’s were actually flown by all the worst parts of everything that makes up a goddamn Human Being squeezed into the bodies of tiny asshole pilots and King Kong was Love…
            Dressed up in a fur coat and cursed with a sad dick that’s so big it’s unable to fit into the only thing it ever wanted to fit in.
            ….yeah.  And the assholes killed the good stuff. King Kong’s the good stuff.  And that’s how the terrorists managed to take out the Twin Towers during the 9/11 attack?
            Exactly.
            Bullshit.
            See Carl, I told you you’re crazy. Carl told me that he figures that if there was real love in the world today instead of all this opposite stuff everyone wouldn’t be so goddamn programmed to hate each other so much and…
            Carl’s stoned. He thinks Love could have saved things?
            Love could have saved things.
            And King Kong equals Love in all this.
            Exactly. Ergo: King Kong could have saved us all.
            But he didn’t.
            Because he’s dead.
            Fuck that. Carl is aware that King Kong’s a fictional character, right? Carl, you do know the difference between real life and TV?
            You know Carl. He has a thing about inserting fictional characters into his real life solutions.
            Right. So Love’s dead then.
            Correct.
            That’s depressing. Wait. Does this have something to do with the fact that Darla left him?
            I don’t know. Carl, does this have something to do with the fact that Darla left you?
            He don’t need to answer that. You don’t need to answer that, Carl. It does.
            Carl still misses Darla!
            Yep.
            That’s terrible. Carl, you’re just sitting here missing her and she’s…huh. I wonder what Darla’s doing now?
           Last I heard she’s living with some guy who’s Grandpa owns Planters Peanuts.
            No shit.
            Yeah. And when Grandpa dies he’ll inherit the entire company.
            Ha! You hear that, Carl? Darla’s gonna be Queen of the Peanuts. What’s the guy doing now, until his Grandpa croaks?
            He  just sits around fucking Darla and  making money off peanuts I guess.
            Lucky bastard. Darla’s a real looker.
            She has great boobs.
            I know, right?
            Her boobs were real.
            And so were her feelings.
            Exactly. And those feelings wanted nothing to do with Carl.
            That’s sad.
            Almost as sad as Carl sitting there thinking King Kong’s real.
            It’s better than thinking about his ex-girlfriend fucking the Prince of Planters.
            Maybe. But there’s still something off about the whole thing.
            It’s best not to dwell on it.
            Did you hear that Carl? It’s best not to dwell on…..Wait.
            Where’s Carl going?
            Carl, where are you going?
            Why’s he climbing on top of his desk?
            I have no idea. Carl, why are you climbing to the top of your desk?
            I think he’s crying.
            Fuck. Carl, why are you crying? Get down from there.
            He’s not getting down.
            I’m lost.
            Carl’s nuts.

Love is: The Lego Movie

16 Jul

               Lego-Movie-11                

Love Is The Lego Movie

Love is The Lego Movie
and I Lego Movie
                                       you

Love is: a Chalk Outline

14 Jul

                                           thCAOATAEL          

(note: written for the monthly fiction reading series The F Bomb/every 2nd Wed of the month at the Mercury Cafe/Denver CO)               

This Story Has Been Formatted To Fit Your Screen
and Edited To Run In the Time Allotted
 
“Late night watching TV, used to be you here beside me.”
–Chris Martin to Gweneth Paltrow
 
            Love is a Chalk Outline regaining consciousness 40 minutes after the crime scene party’s over, stumbling down the hallway like a partially erased tether ball, unable to recall what he’d done with his pants.
            (Commercial Interruption #1: 3 women, post-menopausal, dancing without worry because they’re wearing Gerbers brand extra-super absorbent adult diapers. Available in pink, blue, and new ‘nothing-to-see-here-because-they’re-always-this-color’ yellow. Only 28.50 plus shipping and handling. Incontinent? Gerbers’ got you covered. End Commercial)
            The Chalk Outline was unable to find his pants, but that was the least of his problems. Apparently the smart ass who’d traced him had a sense of humor. Or perhaps it’d been a simple matter of incompetence or evil intent. Either way, whoever’d been in charge of tracing the Chalk Outline had neglected to trace the very reason for wearing pants in the first place. For: we live in a world in which it is illegal to expose one’s weiner in public. This law no longer applied to the Chalk Outline. He’d been traced without a dick.
            (Commercial Interruption #2: Lysol does not eliminate odors. It just makes everything in the room smell like Lysol. Lysol is an odor. In order to do what its own label purports it can do it would have to eliminate itself. Avoid the madness. Stop shitting in the Employee Only restroom at work! Message brought to you by Scented Candles and Americans Organized Towards The Reelection Again Maybe Someday of Eric Cantor. End Commercial)
            Having been reawakened to walk the Earth without his penis, the Chalk Outline felt betrayed and being that his 3 favorite movies were Braveheart, Rob Roy, and The Crow, he set out on the arduous journey of seeking revenge against the thing which had traced him.
            “I will end you like the Internet has ended the noble history of  reading spine bounded books in print!” the Outline screamed at the sky while pretending that it was raining and also the middle of the night.
            The Chalk Outline’s thinly veiled metaphor for god did not answer. But that was ok. The Outline had been chalked recently.  The son of a bitch who’d done the chalking couldn’t have gone far.
            (Story interrupted by 20 minutes of local news emergency weather coverage. Thunderstorm Watch until 2 a.m. The weatherman, though fully aware it’s only a limited amount of water, has chosen to report upon such things as if anyone caught outside with or without a raincoat has been pre-selected to die a nasty death. Please ride out the storm whilst cowering in the proper amount of fear. If your family owns a gun, I suggest you load it. Channel 9 News Team. 9 Cares. We now return you to this story, already in progress.)
            The Chalk Outline stood upon the veranda covered in blood. He’d gone into the battle well aware that taking out his own creator would not be easy. Especially without a penis. (note: the previous sentence is in no way sexist. The phrase ‘dick move’, often applied to someone who’s being an asshole, can also be defined as a real self-defense tactic invented by The Chalk Outline before he’d been murdered and brought back to life as a chalk outline. The move being invented shortly after the Outline flunked out of Karate School and when used correctly rendered one’s opponents bruised, sexually distant or confused. )
            Anyway, the battle’d been  harsher than the Outline’d predicted, mostly due to the fact that his opponent turned out to be plural. Opponents. Sort of. The man/men who had traced him at the original crime scene were Siamese Twins.
            The Outline had no idea what he was expecting, but he hadn’t been expecting that.
            (Commercial Interruption #3: A trailer for a new movie in which Hollywood remakes the story of The Three Little Pigs. In this hip, super modernized version the pigs are the ones trotting around blowing down all the houses and it’s the misunderstood wolf who stands inside, haunted by bricks and past mistakes made out of straw,  waiting for the walls to fall. Directed by that guy who had the balls to bang Kristen Stewart behind Rob Pattinson’s back after having cast his own real life wife as Kristen Stewart’s mom. End Commercial)
            The Chalk Outline thought about outlining the body of the Siamese Twins he’d just defeated but then thought better of it. The Twin’s outline might pop back to life like his own outline had done, and then they’d probably just start fighting again, and the Chalk Outline was done with that.
            He went to the dead Siamese Twin’s refrigerator and ate some leftover shrimp instead.
            (Story interrupted by the 9 News Weather Team again. Thunderstorm Watch has been escalated to a Warning in the following counties: Broomfield. Please prepare for the apocalypse accordingly. We now return to…wait shit. No. That story’s over. We now return you to the Channel 9 movie of the week, The Poseidon Adventure starring Steve Guttenberg, C. Thomas Howell, The original Robocop, Doug ‘Coughlin’s Law’ Coughlin from Cocktails, Jane (aka The Hero of Canton) and Rutger Hauer, already in progress….)