Deceptavor: he lives on your lies

“How many times does he poop, once a month?”
“I don’t watch.”

Masonic boom.

“How do you feel on an emotional level?” -TV show

Plathismograph = scrotum of evil. (“Scrotum weevil?” -T)

Real sign at restaurant, Amarillo, Texas: “We Eat the Dead.”

“Buttholes just open sometimes.” -T

“I don’t fear the reaper, I fear the smell of the reaper.” -W

“If you don’t poke it, it won’t break – it’ll just get soft and go down. I need to use a different tool for each one.” -M

Pavda in Spring
by Sluicegate

It’s a dish best served cold.
So don’t put it on the stove.
Bury it outside in the snow
Guisseppe wore his green
velvet cape gracefully
It hid his stiletto
of flesh
so that the sisters
wouldn’t get frightened.

A 30-mile radius around Dalhart, Texas smells like cow poop.

“Ah, Texas feedlot, who can frame your fearful symmetry?” -D

“My greatest fear when hiking is falling and biting my tongue off.” -D

Ski trip: the first sight of snow was 23 miles southeast of Dalhart.
“Is that snow?” -T
“No, that’s cocaine. These are cocaine fields.” -R

Peanut butter on cracker
Automatic fudge packer

The Ignorant Must Be Broasted
by Rectal Infectant

There is a competition
of values afoot.
This is a competition which
we must win
at all costs
The fate of the world is at stake.

I throw the first grenade
into the battered bed of
the pickup of the first hick who is
simultaneously smoking, drinking
beer from a can, backhanding his wife
and changing lanes without signaling.
He hears a metallic clatter
but, really, it’s too late.
I also need an RPG.

me just kidding, joe
me ruv hick

Rectal Infectant’s blues.
I tire of this formula.
I am a stupid f*cking
replicant and every real
person should hate me.
I am an engineer of my
own doom.
As I descend into the bowels
of the factory I have to
extend my eye stalks farther
and farther ahead of me.

Eventually
I am moving by feel

I glide down the slime slickened
stairway until I finally reach
the lowest level

I probe the floor with my
tentacles until I locate the lever.
With great effort, I pull it
back.
Gentle at first is the deep
bowel-earth sound of a final
winding down.
Somewhere in this factory
the revolution stops.
-end-

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