Writing is the draining of creative pus that infects the brain

  • Joined: September 2008

Journal

absolute stream of cun-tiousness

Boom…boom, boom. Tribal, house, eerie beats. Mind lost, groovin’, bumpin’. Progressivley spindling in liquified licorice ropes of thougt that dissovle like cotton candy, sizzling into popping atoms. Canals of turqoise flow a’round purple pyramids that rotate in the retina of the opiate-induced mentale of the bearded lady lying in the freak tent, leaking onto the fabric …
Posted over 5 years – 2 comments

Wu Tong Clan

Fucked up frenzie—into the wild blue. Kegs of schlock ready for squelching. No weak cunts out here. Just pure and nasty rough riders. Leather chaps and all—just came off the donkey haul, dry mouths and a belly full of balls, ‘some trip ay?’ Says Tong, ‘oh yeah!’ says Wu. They paid for the cowboy trip of a lifetime. Westworld styl—robotic cowboys with faces hiding wired-up comput…
Posted over 5 years – Leave a comment

bar banter

Kooks of various types comprise this city bar—those who try to dress avant-garde by coupliing a 70’s plaid jacket with a pair of striped business slacks, thinking a pair of square specs and a frizzed-out do is eccentric. / Others, throwbacks to early nineties, sport wayfarers, beanie pushed back on skull, hoodie—Teddy goes stick-up kid—hosebag in a flannel smacks down you…
Posted almost 6 years – 4 comments

stupid shit on a slow afternoon

Writing for writing’s sake while ensconsed on a lamb skin sofa in the air-conditioned confines of Southgate shopping/dining precinct. Sassy girls troll the shop windows like crocs in wait, chomping at the bit to buy that croc-skin bag and matching kicks, to get their kicks in the bars and clubs, clubbing through the masses at the festivals, festive and feistly after several cocktails while…
Posted almost 6 years – 2 comments

Recently Added

Portrait of a Nucleus Family

It was an exciting time for cell couples migrating to the thighs while the host consumed hot chips and tempura

Inverse Berth

I feel my ears against her pubic mound as she turns my entire body sideways, pulling me by my skull, tugging me deeper into her,

Acid and Orifice: The Pursuit of Reality

I keep opening my eyes to try and focus on anything normal. A fence turns into flowing lava. Trees are injected broccoli.

Hard Times

As he jerked and jostled down the dark laneway, bouncing off brick walls and wheelie bins, Trashbury held his pants up with two chopsticks…

PHiST

Dale took the Slurper in her own hands caressing its smooth exterior between myriad raised, plastic dots and mild spikes.

The Newspaper Chronicles—One act play, Scen…

Well, listen up you worthless pustule, I’m the last person you can expect to get help from.

state of the Union

Suddenly all the women gather into a big, entangled mons pubis and march up Stockton Street toward the tunnel.

Verbal Assault

Past, Present and Future walked into the bank at 9:01a.m. It was tense.

Primary Functions

Sure, he was 10-years old, but what his mother had taught him by then was more than enough to satisfy most of the eighth-grade girls.

Mum and the pissed bum

…let her see how she likes the steady stream of pale piss cascading down her leg and down under the arch of her foot.

A Few More Years…

I took all the fat fuck’s money and the one credit card he had and bought myself some new gear.