Archive | December, 2015

Murder Pig Jr.

31 Dec

murder pig jr


Murder Pig Jr.


Murder Pig Jr was raised

by a couple of social working mozzarella farmers

on a small island located somewhere

between last week and Spain


He was already in his 20’s and had a beard

and a slight astigmatism

when he learned the truth behind

his biological parentage


His mother was Murder Pig, a possessed

Piggy Bank who did most of her serial killing

back in the 1930’s but was still known

to perk up every once and a while

and murder someone new for no reason

from time to time


The identity of Murder Pig Jr.’s father

was a bit more mysterious than well known facts

like a Star Wars movie family picnic

before Darth Vader spilled the beans

or an especially unwatchablely painful episode of Maury Povich

(Historical Note: Every episode of Maury Povich

is unwatchablely painful)


Upon discovering the truth of his biological mother

Murder Pig Jr. thought about trying to track Murder Pig down

because he’d always wanted to meet his real mother

but then he also thought: What if I do that and when I find her

she murders me?


While feeling conflicted Murder Pig Jr adjusted his thick back glasses

and tugged on his staggered stubble beard

and looked down at his shoes


the toes of his right foot were exposed

do to the shoddy state of his current sneakers

his big toe had dug a hole in the canvases


and because the fabric had been slaughtered

(the murder weapon being time and dull friction)

and his toe was the only logical suspect

and still even now all these months after lingered

around at the crime scene like a guilty TV dinner

Murder Pig Jr. began to wonder

what with his mom’s dismembered tendencies

“What if I’m just like my mother?” (–When Doves Cry/Prince)

What if I grow up to murder too?


Forget the fact that Murder Pig Jr. was already fully grown

Forget the fact that Opa is German for Grandpa

Forget the fact that it was almost 11 a.m. and she hadn’t peed yet


Forget the fact that if Justin Long’s penis

was just a little bit smaller

he’d be Justin Longish


Forget it all! Like Murder Pig Jr. forgot it

because he was surrounded by aspartame

and was currently obsessing over that age old debate


of nature vs. nurture

accidentally catching your parents fucking

vs. having that goddamn Final Countdown song

stuck in your head for a longish afternoon


Dr. Ponytail’s prodigious hair ties vs. an anti-Semitic Quesarito

The Bionic Dog vs. a parking lot full of distemper riddled groupies

the oncoming horizon of 8 a.m. vs. 8:30!



Murder Pig Jr. didn’t know what to do next

so he decided to sleep on it

which was just fine with the narrator because

it’d been a long day


and Tic Tac withdrawal was a real thing

and all the TicTac stores were closed

and wouldn’t open again until tomorrow morning


the narrator’s hands shook like an R2D2 Pez dispenser

passed around half hazardly at an ameliorated gang bang


Let’s just pick this thing up again in the morning

the jones-ing narrator said to himself

the sun setting behind him like a bad song by Menudo


as Murder Pig Jr. stood on a small shelf in the dark

staring across a bleak as hell room


and listened to the quiet voice behind him whisper

“Hello son”


While Watching: Knock Knock

15 Dec

keanu grave


While Watching: Knock Knock


Knock Knock

Who’s there?

Not Keanu Reeves bangs!

Why’s that?




Because Keanu opened the door like a dumbass and let

a couple of wet girls into his house when his wife and kids

weren’t home and they repaid his kindness of extra bathrobes

and towels by tying him to his collection of crappy Kiss albums

and cutting all his bangs off

while Keanu just sat there acting like he was acting

and screaming stuff like “My bangs! Oh no! Not my bangs!”



but they bangs’d him anyway

while their bras seduced a lone sock in the drier

they bangs’d the 3D printed shit out of him


and as if that wasn’t

I don’t know



these ladies played a bunch of other mean pranks on him

like: they cooked a sloppy breakfast and drew dicks on his asshole

and they pretended to be underage after he’d overage banged them

and forced him to listen to his own record collection

until he screamed “Stop you crazy cunts

you’re permanently damaging my eardrums!”



Historical Note: Keanu Reaves screams ‘AHH!’ in this movie

like most people yawn while watching

a Keanu Reaves movie


He’s 51 in real life

and 43 in Knock Knock

and won’t stop going on about the fact

that he used to be a DJ when he was in his 20’s


which means he spun a lot of Foghat albums

at a couple of house parties in 1988

“Please don’t stab me in my surgery scar again!”

the crowds screamed at the nonsense

which was everything, because everything’s made

out of nonsense


So you almost went on tour once?

‘Monster’ fuck that

Love doesn’t give a shit about ‘almost’

What was your fucking stage name back then Keanu?

DJ Surgery Scar?

DJ Bang(s)Me

DJ Don’tWannaGoDeafYouSexyFucks?


Hard saying


in Knock Knock Keanu Reeves is playing with Love

so there’s no fucking way he was meant to win because

with Love, the bowl cut is almost-exclusively inevitable


She played their music real loud

until they weren’t playing anymore

and then there was just silence and busted ceramics


and then Love went deaf without her

and her thongs

which were probably dry by now


“I want to go #1 in your butt.” Keanu’s sock

said to the two bras but the bras didn’t have butts

and socks can’t pee




and around this time these chicks

were through with him

the rice had fixed their Iphones

and none of Keanu’s friends

liked him on Facebook


Stroke Face

11 Dec


Stroke Face


the day had been long

and she’d had no time to snatch lunch

so by the time she got home

she screamed ‘FAMISHED’ in Chinese

and after that she blurted out something she thought

the Chinese might say when they want to say

‘FUCK!” because she was out of food

and an extended understanding

of other languages so

she had jean crotch

for dinner

and a couple of crackers

and after almost doing the dishes

she thought about putting in a movie

but she was still wearing

her dinner pants

so her crotch was hanging out

and the breeze felt like a five dollar bill

blowing against an old vending machine

built with the type of slots that weren’t built

to handle denominations of such girth

so she walked over into the other room

to change

into something a little less crotchless

and then she sat down and started watching a sitcom

that was sort of like Friends

if Ross had been a little bit anti-Semitic

and instead of being a paleontologist

he spent most of his time at work

sitting in his brand new cubicle not eating a delicious donut

because he thought it looked Jewish and

making fun of people with disabilities

because Joey’d been born with feet

that refused to point straight

under their own influence

and had been forced to wear prescription

footwear when he was little

and they’d been brown and shaped like dress shoes

and Ross found this: hilarious!

he pelted Joey with hard candy and crude references

to Tom Hanks movies when he wasn’t busy

banging Rachel so hard

she never made it into work the next day

he also laughed heartily

after Monica accused Joey of having poop in his butt

despite the fact that Joey totally didn’t have poop in his butt!

Because Joey was ocd about shit like this!

(he needed his action figures to be facing in specific ways

and he needed his ass to be clean, so)

Unless he was at the time pooping

you can almost goddamn bet the ant farm

his butt was 100% poopless!

“Google it, asshole!” Joey quiet-screamed

“My ass has been electronically documented.

My ass has white fringe dangling on the outside.


I’m in the literature.

Look it up.”

but instead of looking it up Ross sat at his desk

screaming “Cockpit procedure!”

and hounding Phoebe over and over again

with the story about how

when they’d first met he’d thought she was a ‘bitch’

because she had ‘bitch face’

even though Phoebe didn’t have bitch face

she’d just recently had a stroke

Ross called her ‘Mork’ because of the way

she looked back in the days

when she’d been a baby


“Jesus, this is brutal.” thought the recently crotchless

woman who was at this time right now watching this

whole goddamn thing and eating strawberry Starbursts

on the couch

“Where the fuck’s Chandler? There’s been no goddamn

Chandler in any of this? Somebody’s gotta take this Ross guy


but Chandler wasn’t in this particular episode

because previously on this show that is not Friends

Chandler’s wife at the time had decided she wanted to play a game

that I guess you’d have to call “What Celebrity Do You Think Shares The Exact Same Personality As Me And That I’m Most Like As A Person”

It’s a stupid name, yes

and a stupid game

but Chandler was an idiot and said he’d play

and when she told him he reminded him of Chandler

Chandler was like, wait? That’s me? Am I famous?

and then he freaked out and panicked and because they’d just watched

Fools Rush In, and Chandler had totally been in that

he figured it’d be a good idea to tell her she was probably most like

Selma Hayek (because also he loved Selma Hayek)

and holy shit was that the wrong goddamn thing to say right now!

because Selma Hayek completely freaked out!

and later that afternoon Chandler was kicked out of her life

and this particular episode of this show the crotchless lady

who was beginning to wish was still crotchless was sorta watching

but not really watching now

So while Chandler was off in rehab

Ross continued to torment his coworkers

with his smooth as hell put-downs

and dark sitcom compordium last minute attempts to remain lovable:

“Hey Menorah (he sometimes called Phoebe ‘Menorah’ but always

in a derogatory way). I’m sorry you were just stroke faced.

I didn’t know you were stroke faced, ok?

(crotchless was once again crotchless at this point

and had many lines ago stopped watching

so who knows if any of this is still going on)

You’re not a bitch.


Is There Any Other Kind?

10 Dec


Is There Any Other Kind?

for Anne Sexton and the Lonely Masturbator


So I went to the library today and while I was in there figured

maybe I should give her another chance

so I picked up a copy of her collected poems

and since I was there already and when I saw it

it made me laugh I grabbed a copy of

The Man With The Hoe And Other Poems

by Edwin Markham, too


turns out the dude was really just into his gardening tool

and everyone who’s ever checked out her collected poems

immediately turned to page 198 and The Ballad Of The Lonely Masturbator

and then they just stopped there and gave up turning to something else

because when you pick up the book it automatically opens there

to that page and that poem, its spine breaks there

and then that’s it


masturbation followed by nothingness followed by a silence

that sounds like the moon


so I figured hell, might as well restart there

where her masturbator is lonely

but really, is there any other kind?


when I’m masturbating odds are

I’m alone and also lonely

and if I’m masturbating and I’m not alone

I’m not lonely, right?

because I’m not alone?

and also I’m probably thinking something like

why am I doing this all by myself over here?

this is just silly

we’re supposed to be doing this together

why don’t you get over here and “say nice things to me”

ala Matchbox Twenty songs and shit

why wouldn’t you be over here giving me a hand?


Historical Note: the key to not crying while you’re doing yourself

is significantly dependent on one’s ability to not think

about the fact that you probably wouldn’t be masturbating

if the one you’re hung up on wasn’t someplace else getting


her Prunus spit on by some dude who still reads Hustler

don’t even start thinking about whether he’s better at love-banging her

then you or if his penis is bigger or crooked in an oddly pleasing way

because you remember hearing someone saying something about that

somewhere, how the oblong’d shape is sometimes preferable

to the unflexablly straight


don’t even start thinking about the fact that right now some other dude’s

crooked dick is getting the gal you love off


because if you start thinking that way

when you’re masturbating, or when I’m masturbating

well I’ll tend to Hulk-out a little bit


and cease being gentle in a situation where the occasion calls

for one to be at least a little bit gentle

and instead of the sympathetic romance of my hand going down on me

or however you’re supposed to put it

it starts to look more and more

like I’ve just lost another 75 cents in the Diet Coke vending machine

and I’m just punching myself

in the dick


Sex marries the bed over and over again

but I don’t have a bed anymore

so I’m pretty much single



when slept in alone

scare the fucking Strangers out of me

for years now when I sleep

if I’m sleeping

I’ve signed myself a precarious pre-nup

with the couch


my loneliness has its own library

loves jerking off

but well read

a goddamn title and another fucking eight lines after that

8 Dec



a goddamn title and another fucking eight lines after that


she said she could no longer see us together

so I taught my dick to read brail

but that didn’t help matters or anything

because: why would it?


all this everyday shit

that insists on streaming

while the world still burns

on dvd

What’s The Most Embarrassing Thing That’s Ever Happened To You While Watching A Keanu Reeves Movie?

6 Dec

Keanu Reeves Wallpaper @


What’s The Most Embarrassing Thing That’s Ever Happened

To You While Watching A Keanu Reeves Movie?


Place: Cosmic Hubble Conference Room NK2019/Middle-Deep Space

Time: Friday Morning/a little bit after 9:30


Cosmic Policy demanded that every 38 hours or so

its employees would clump together into their various

teams and departments in one of the many thousands of conference rooms

that the Company had graciously built for the purpose of meeting

and they would, shit. you know. they’d meet.

goddamn it.

every 38 hours or so

they’d just meet.


the agendas of these meetings were discorded and varied

and always began with something they called Privacy Breakers

During this Mandatory Sharing Activity each Control Guide

would pose a randomly personal question to their team

and then for the next 48 minutes or so everyone on the team

took turns mandatorily answering the goddamn question


most of the questions were sanity-cracking but predictable like:

how many times this week have you publicly felt grateful for working here?

or what’s your dog’s favorite color?


but this morning’s Privacy Breaker was something different

The Control Guide was playing hardball for Its own reasons again

This morning It didn’t give a shit about dog’s or their favorite colors

This morning the Control Guide, upon calling the meeting officially

to order, looked It’s laptop straight in the face and demanded

in a harsh verbal hue:


What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you

while watching a Keanu Reeves movie?


Nobody in the room had ever been asked this before

It felt so goddamn random and unnecessary and the nervous

Zebort, with her throat constructed of gravel and her entire body

made up of 80% throat began weeping instantly and it wasn’t even anywhere

close to being her turn to forcibly share


Drunbklilu sat directly to the left of the Control Guide

so it was Drunbklilu’s responsibility to personally confess

and holy fuck! she was terrified! “I’m not ready for this, but


I guess it would have to be, ha ha, I was watching Bill And Ted

with this boy I really liked at the time and I don’t know, at some point

just as the two chums jumped out of their time car I..” her head dropped

down in shame, “farted.”


Silence. And then The Control Guide spoke

“Out loud?”

“Excuse me?” Drunbklilu didn’t understand.

“You say you farted. But as our many trainings have taught us

there are different way of farting. Did this farting you’ve just shared with us,

YOU KNOW WHAT I’M SAYING?!! Was it compassionate or alarming?!

Was the farting ‘out loud’?”

“Yes Control Guide. “ Drunbklilu burst into tears. “The farting was verbal.

He broke up with me shortly after.”


The Control Guide appeared pleased with this answer

but Shadborg was pissed. He sat at the table

a few dozen chairs down from Drunbklilu fuming

because everyone else in the room seemed focused on the farting

and nobody seemed to give a shit

that Bill and Ted didn’t travel through time in a fucking ‘time car’

Drunbklilu had just shared a story about farting during Back To The Future

and the question posed had to do with humiliation and Keanu Reeves movies

and Keanu Reeves wasn’t even in that!


But fuck, what did it matter?

Shadborg’s repulsion towards the entire goddamn thing had gone unnoticed

and the Privacy Breaker rolled on. It was Xhdyoe’s turn to speak


Xhdyoe was the sort of Drondlick that tucked its shirt in religiously

and prayed its thanks

(as the bottom of its shirt flaps touched its penis and/or nuts)

every time it arrived to work several minutes before all those other slackers

who merely arrived to work ‘on time’


Xhdyoe excelled in tucking its shirt in and smelling smug

but when it came to knowing anything about movies

Xhdyoe was a dick


“I have no idea who Keanu Reeves is”

Xhdyoe admitted, “My hobbies exclusively include

taking pictures of myself with my dog while hiking

and accessing public transportation in hopes of winning

the favor of The Supreme Rulebots. I will say my dog’s favorite color

is indigo. Because she’s sensitive like this. But I have no time for film.”


The Control Guide had always admired Xhdyoe’s shirt-tucking

abilities but he’d failed to answer the question. Hell, he wasn’t

sobbing or feeling bad about himself or anything so the Guide

declared his answer ‘incomplete’ and Xhdyoe was instantly obliterated


Exactly 4 seconds after his obliteration, everyone sitting in the

conference room felt their work phones hum

as a Companywide email had just been sent explaining

Xhdyoe was no longer employed with the Company and the small pile

of dust that remained of him was no longer allowed in secure areas

the email was accompanied by a recent picture of Xhdyoe

post obliteration, in the picture Xhdyoe looked like a small pile of dust


“Who’s next?” The Control Guide was smiling. “We’re having so much fun!!!!”

like mouth herpies, the question made its way solemnly

around the room


Plankto admitted that one time during a drive in theater viewing of Point Break

he killed a male prostitute because in the brochure the prostitute had been

promised to look like Patrick Swayze but he didn’t look anything like

Patrick Swayze, the prostitute looked more like Jared Leto

and this discrepancy had pissed Plankto off


Lolo had suffered a miscarriage while watching Parenthood

Sexswing had understandably relapsed back into heroin

after his best friend made him watch Knock Knock

Brondlh began obsessively texting pictures of her husband’s genitals

to Sandra Bullock shortly after watching Speed


by the time the question reached Shadborg

the rest of the entire room was either secretly plotting

their own suicides or voraciously sobbing


“It’s your turn Shadborg” the Control Guide forcefully prodded

as Shadborg sat there, not immediately speaking

“Nobody’s said anything about John Wick yet, Shadborg.

perhaps you’ve done something embarrassing while watching

John Wick.”


“The only embarrassing thing that happened to me while watching John Wick,”

Shadborg told The Control Guide, the words falling out of his face before

he’d known they were even in there, “was watching John Wick.”


The Control Guide glared at Shadborg. His answer exposed more annoyance

than shame about anything. It demanded he pick something else


“I guess my favorite one would be The Watcher, because you know, he’s

doing all that watching. And while I was watching I was sort of like

I think I should grow my hair out like Keanu Reeves has his hair grown out

in this movie but I’m going to wait to grow it out like that until after I’m dead.”


The Control Guide was still not pleased with his answer.

He didn’t seemed humbled enough yet, so the Control Guide pushed on


“Shadborg! I need you to speak out loud the first thought that comes to you

as I randomly read off this list of Keanu Reeves movie!”


The Shadborg agreed, because shit it might be fun. And what else was he supposed to do?



I prefer the comics

Little Buddha!

I prefer the fat one


The book is way better

The Matrix!

Damn right. He’s good in that.


“What the fuck?!” The Control Guide was losing it

“Are you trying to tell me you don’t have one

personally traumatizing story about anything that’s happened

to you while watching a goddamn Keanu Reeves movie?!”

Shadborg pretended to think about this for a little bit before saying



Just then the atomic buzzer went off signifying

that the time allotted for this morning’s Privacy Breaker

had been reached and it was time to move on


“Right. Privacy Breaker’s over.” The Control Guide admitted

“But I’d like it reflected in the notes that

Homework Assignment for Shadborg:

He will something humiliating while watching a Keanu Reeve’s movie

before our next meeting and verbally share this humiliation with the group.”


The request was duly reflected

and for the rest of the meeting Shadborg nodded his head

along with the others upon those occasions in which head nodding

was publicly acknowledged and thus necessary

but for the most part he spent most of the rest of the meeting

wondering what it might be like to fall in love again

and making up a brand new Keanu Reeves movie

that he could explain in ridiculous detail at the next meeting

where he would force share his made up confession


something like:


“There was a princess and a silo and we all know this thing’s

3 and a half hours but I fucking swear to you from start to finish,

that’s how long it took me to cum.”

They Both Screamed ‘Uncle Kracker’ At The Same Time When Their Loving Became Too Much

4 Dec

uncle kracker



They Both Screamed ‘Uncle Kracker’ At The Same Time When Their Loving Became Too Much


at some point closer to noon

he slipped away from work

and made his way to her throaty loft

between big town crematoriums

intending to share a long lunch break

even though she had the day off and he still smelled

like earlier-that-morning’s PB & J


he wanted to dive straight into it but she wanted to power walk

between the futon and the kitchen table a couple hundred dozen times

and talk without cursing but her voice sounded like a bag of shattered marbles

rough sexing a turtle so they watched a couple of snake documentaries

on Netflix and drank yerba mates, slowly, to get in: the mood


the mood was shaped like an immensely dense sex-shop-modified apple fritter

and shortly upon realizing its arrival they both yanked themselves out

of their own sex-stop pants and jumped right in


her vagina was wide eyed and aquatic-ly fearless

his penis held its nose before the splash down


his penis was bent slightly like an older man carrying groceries

her bush was shaved like it had never been shaved before

her bush appeared to be hiding behind a superfluously positioned

second bush

because sometimes evolution’s just weird like that


but his penis was both persistent and wanted a sandwich

and found her sex spots eventually


upon arriving his dick felt scratched up

and parched and found itself asking politely

for a glass of lemonade while they did this


her clitoris was shaped like an always angry woman

who spends most of her time screaming shit like

“I don’t have any barn-darn lemonade!” or

“Get the hell off my yard!”


so he was all “So it’s like that then is it”

and proceeded to bang her without lemonade

or glee


butt: fuck it


while he was inside her the world didn’t care about participation rates

and while she was outside him she thought about getting her steps in

while outside that little wherever they were


the entire goddamn universe is pretty much finite and

Donald Trump may have been doing inappropriate impressions of the disabled


but their orgasms almost legitimately

had cerebral palsy



when they both came

they came like Michael J Fox

trying on a new pair of socks


and then after that happened they really went at it

like they tended to go at it

and knowing how occasionally uncomfortable

the ‘at it’ could get, they’d come up with a series

of safe words


and by this point things had gone a little weird

and this afternoon’s safety word was ‘Uncle Kracker’

so he screamed it

but she’d forgotten they’d changed it

she was still under the impression that the safety word

was still ‘That One Song By Menudo!’

but it wasn’t Menudo

it was Uncle Kracker

but she didn’t remember this

so when he screamed Uncle Kracker

she thought he was just making

in-the-middle-of-rough-sex small talk


“Yes. I like Uncle Kracker too. Especially

that one song I can’t remember right now.

That’s probably my favorite.”


but he wasn’t kidding around

he was fucking serious!

“Not Menudo! Uncle Kracker goddamn it! Check your fucking Outlook!

We stopped doing Menudo yesterday!”


he was right of course, but that didn’t really matter anymore

she was in the lunch sex zone and her favorite movie had always been Highlander

“There can be only one!”




only later

as he was limp walking his way back to the office

did the poor bastard weep