Seabass
Dr.
Pickles
Ronnie
Smith
Shit poems
|
|
| June 16th |
by: Seabass |
Sadly a good friend
of mine past away last night.
It's
odd dealing with these things due to I show no remorse in the course of
this part of life. I don't get off on the mourning and dwell on the
loss as if something is stripped away or to the part if a person should
alter their lifestyle. I assume that in general nobody is ever pleased
with what they accomplish, the mind itself is always greedy and never
will be content with whatever falls it way.
I
will miss the conversations, he was much older. Old enough to be my
father and one of the few people I have crossed that was fair, never
turning a situation into an advantage or a criticism. I think truly
this is what most people have admired about this man. Very quiet and
reserved.
I
will reflect on his life as a person who mostly sacrificed, dealing
with his families problems head on while the others wavered, waiting on
him to find the solution, in which he often did. I just hope that he
didn't pass feeling cheated or in fear as often I do when thinking
about the inevatable.
He
was the definition of a real man who was committed to his family and
went out of his way for people who appreciated it and many who took it
for granted. Growing up around the rejects that I often encountered it
was a great experience to encounter a person who in many ways will
cross my mind for whatever time I am here. Influence me and hopefully
if I'm not too much of a fool, will guide me for years to come.
It's
tough dealing with the fact that you can never alter situations, maybe
do more to let those like the man who just passed away know how you
appreciated and admired that individual. How he will never be forgotten
and in time tell a stranger just how much you cared for them. In that
way maybe that part of them can inspire in many ways big or small..
I
know not of where the journey will take this friend of mine, I can only
hope I can do my part to keep a part of him alive for a little longer.
In memory and in words.
Goodbye
Pop..
|
|
| June 4th |
by: Seabass |
It's tough to watch
a person lose their fucking mind. Sadly Red, a woman who I've known for
nearly twenty years should be locked away. Lately, she's been shitface
drunk in a public housing project, probably arguing with the many
voices she hears daily.
She
was always crazy as a rat in a tin shithouse. It was more of a
laughable crazy where nobody got hurt. Well the people who deserved it
did but, in a closed minded world(mine), it all washed out.. Now it's
the crazy that leaves you disturbed.
Walking
out of her house covered in blood two days ago, screaming that somebody
assaulted her inside. Then explaining to the police what happened, a
description given of her attacker. The reality is it wasn't anyone. The
wounds were self inflicted and the odd part is, only one of the
multiple personalities of Red knows why. So until that one comes back
to life, we may never know what really happened in there. Truthfully, I
wish I could have an artist sketch of this person, due to he dwelled
from Venus, by the way she described him..
Red
as of today is sitting in Ridgeview Institute. On a new plan of pills,
drying off the booze that conflicts with the pills she was previously
on. Once she tried to hang herself with a sheet while in there, except
she tied it to a drop down ceiling and only bruised her head when the
tiles came crashing down.. Who knows what she is thinking next? Maybe
she is mellowed, watching Dukes of Hazzard reruns or whatever shitty
therapy idea comes to mind in those places..
I
remember her old boyfriend claim that fucking her and, her
personalities was like a new woman every night.. Now that I think of
it, that guy was a fucking asshole. One of many that came along and
added to the pile. Maybe she created a new person after each one, to
deal with the hours of boredom in between. If you widdle away all those
traumas, is there anything left of that person you vaguely remember
twenty years ago..?
Life
in a twisted way can make an orphan out of every one of us. It's a
shame that some don't have the strength to make it back to sanity...
|
|
| May 31st |
by: Seabass |
If science continues
to progress and they figure out how to repair undeveloped brains. Could
intelligence then be altered to speed up evolution? And what would be
considered a moron?
My
cousin had her second child and I fear it won't have a chance to amount
to anything. Unfortunately she(the child) is made up of two of the
sorriest people who may have ever existed. Ignorance is deep in my
family. I truly believe that I should disown the lot and go away, never
to be heard from again. You never get good news from them. They never
do anything positive for mankind. Any dealing bears misfortune and you
can never go in public with the lot.
Most
of them smell, have bad habits and dress in rags. They always borrow
money and you never see it back. They come to your house and eat your
food. If you let one move in you have to get a restraining order to get
rid of them. Then half your shit ends up in the pawn shop when they do
leave. They'll let the utilities get shut off because they spent the
money on a damn tattoo..
Somebody
will feel sorry them and give them a place to stay, they'll get tanked
and throw the furniture out the windows. One got a d.u.i. while mowing
the grass, their luck is horrible. They drag home these rejects as fuck
buddies who have warrants on them, shit the bed while drunk and never
keep a job. Half of them are on disability. Dependant on pain killers
and are habitual liars.
So
the question between the upbringing and the genetics is an interesting
subject due to I have no clue which of the two creates these walking
disasters. Which one of these unfortunate afflictions bears the
stronger influence? Which one has it's grip on me and why can't I put
my finger on it. I could be suffering from the same symptoms but being
as obnoxious as I am. I can't see through the fog and repair or alter
the circumstances that irritate me on a normal basis.
I
rarely go anywhere, I jerk off several times a day and, this mob of
people ask me dumb questions so they can sit around and laugh at my
answers. I don't even know why they find it so damn humorous. I was
over at mom's and she is battling the female hormones. She is making a
sandwich and drops it on the floor and begins sobbing. Then she
decides to eat snack crackers instead and is carrying on like that damn
sandwich had no reason to be made in the first place.
The
phone rings and I hate to pick it up. There is absolutely nothing on
the other end that could possibly be productive for me. My aunt called
me and started singing Happy Birthday. It's in December and she could
have sworn it was May the 29th. May the 29th is her own son's birthday,
who she hasn't seen in twenty years. The bitch has lost her damn mind.
So I am debating if
I should just be a prick and disappear. I know I should leave for good.
Some day.
|
|
| May 28th |
by: Seabass |
Where
the fuk you at?
Cryogeniprick
That's a fair
question. I have been really busy on the site but not writing related..
I have spent the last several weeks uploading toon porn, which if you
don't know, is a real tedious chore. Try reviewing thousands of cartoon
pussies and adding links to them. It takes dedication which is the
American way folks.
I've retained many from the past sites, and have been collecting new
ones daily. So fuck you if you don't like it. Since freedom is a thing
shared by other countries involved in NATO, the toon world is a similar
thing. You have to go visit your allies that share a similar devious
infatuation. In the toon world the greatest contributors are from
France and Japan, the sickest anyway and that is where I have been.
Harboring in those toilets to infuse a international flair in
masterbation that even a communist can appreciate.
What do they do in Communist countries for such pleasure..? Cut your
head off which is why they suck and we don't.. So without further
explanation, the toon section has been rebuffed with more to come..
Don't be a dipshit, begin blindlinking and fuck up a good thing. Visit
the Institute out of respect and enjoy what people like me and the
friends to the right of this message do, put their valued wasted time,
egomaniacly posting random disturbing things for assholes such as
yourself to enjoy..
Drunken Toons
You can make a blind
man see
You
can make a cripple man walk
You
can make the quietest man in the world talk
Every
little boy in town
Wants
to get his arms around
For
no one else will do
But
you, with your 39-21-40 shape
Yes,
you got me going apety ape
Over
you...
<The
Showmen>
|
|
| May 19th |
by: Seabass |
Smoking the old
pipe, the room near thick while the heat from the tobacco burns the
inside of my mouth. It's one of the few things I enjoy. Probably the
only thing that relaxes me these days. I can broaden my thoughts to
various things that doesn't involve the media or the latest fad/or
person that rotates on the rumor mill..
Black
Sabbath on a loop through the media player. I can be anywhere,
including an asylum and function with ease if I am granted these few
things. I still despise laboring to survive, wondering how can humanity
accept this degradation, toying with your pride all along with urges to
alter the whole chain of events that have led you here.
I
should put this computer in the shitter due to some odd circumstance,
the feeling of my ballsack dangling into the free air, conjurs thoughts
and ideas that quickly escape my thoughts after zipping them back up
and walking away. It's a sad feeling knowing the mental waste that
diludes me..
You
can't read anyone. They come at you with smiles that totally confuse
me. The fucking frowners are more stable to me, they either don't like
you or they don't like themselves and are ignoring you in the first
place. Smiley men are either full of shit or can't wait till you turn
the corner to tell somebody what a real asshole you are.. Smiley women
are the worst, especially if they smile at you the second time for they
are destined to ruin you and leave you in a world of pity.
I've
seen it. Dudes in some dark room with a bottle of bourbon, gun in one
hand and a pair of her leftover panties between their fist and their
noses. Only thing that keeps them from using the gun is they call their
mothers and hear her bullshit on how the world owes them a favor. The
rationalizing going back and forth and, before you know it. Some other
bitch comes along to grind whatever hope they had remaining that the
last one declined to take.
Some
go to therapy but, you can get the same sastifaction by getting a half
gallon of ice cream and a fucking hooker. If you pay her a little more
you can haul off and slap the shit out of her, which may invigorate you
enough to feel like a man again..
Of
course you can fall into religion but, the extreme to that is you can
end up like a guy I work with. Who lives in a motor home on 14 acres of
land, each window has aluminum foil covering them, which he claims
keeps the sun from getting it hot inside. I think it assures him that
whatever voices have been giving him bad advice for the past twenty
years, seem to go way with each strip of foil he attaches to each
window. I haven't got this guy figured out either due to he's smiling
too damn much and somebody who smiles with a bible in his hand while
pushing a buggy in front of him, scares the shit out of me. He has a
wife too, she still lives at the old place. Mention how she is doing,
he instantly pushes that buggy somewhere and buys another roll of
foil..
Which
while I was watching a movie that disturbs me to watch over again.
Watching Hedwig which is this damn musical. He sings this song that
says we were made up of four eyes, legs and arms, very happy, which
brought up the ire of the gods, they split us in two and we spend a
lifetime searching for the other half. The restlessness is only eased
with each aquantice that we encounter in our search, hoping that the
passion the other half is indeed the missing half that has evaded us
since birth. Hedwig never finds this and seems to come to the
realization that through acceptance or reflecting this missing love
upon himself, that indeed his other half reveales itself. The main
point that I found while observing Hedwig is that music is the only
thing that never let him down.
Which
in this thesis has brought this thought to full circle with the Black
Sabbath, the pipe and the odd sensation of uneasiness. Wondering just
what it is that compels me to try to figure out the small moments of
content and a path of how I can shorten the time between them ..
|
|
| May 1st |
by: Seabass |
 This silly twat had
the city of Atlanta in an uproar. Cops looking in sewer grates and
dumpsters for her corpse, as they believed she was abducted and
possibly murdered.
She was about to be married to some soft ass wimp of a man who was in
the typical Christian uproar. The family gatherings, vigils, paper
signs on every phone poll, the prayer groups shedding tears in hopes
for her safe return.
I'll put good hard earned money that many wish she was dead so, they
could play the matyr role and announce how Jesus needed her more than
them horseshit. Tightass pieces of shit, all the wasted manpower on
this sideshow. It fucking angers me. The funny thing is they never find
these people around here.
So this bitch under the blanket up above. Has the nerve to call from
New Mexico of all places to say she was released from her abducters.
The groom is jumping up and down, giggling like he is the luckiest man
on Earth. Then after the cops question that bullshit story she
concocted, she breaks down in tears saying she couldn't handle the
stress of the upcoming life change.
Boy, what a find this chick is.. She doesn't have the ability to leave
a Dear John letter? Stand up and be accountable.? Y'know this loser guy
she was marrying will forgive her, and blame himself. He's that
pathetic. He should hold a press conference just to dump the bitch.
Slap the shit out of her and walk off. Lot of men would look up to him,
I would.
And who threw in the red shirt when washing this blanket..? I'd like to
kick their ass personally. Fitting actually for this confused bitch.
Trailerpark bedrag for a trailerpark mentality.
I hope they give her time and she gets molested by road dyke guards
holding nightsticks in the shape of dildos..
|
|
| April 17th |
by: Seabass |
The town was in an uproar and while driving
by thinking somebody either died or a theft was in progress. I was
disappointed that the commotion was gathered around because some old
man got one of the legs of his walker, stuck between one of the grates
in the sidewalk that catches the rain..
He was sitting at a nearby
bench getting his vitals checked by a EMT while some ugly fireman was
sawing the leg free. If the old man had a lick of sense he would put
tennis balls on the leg ends and save the frustration. I yelled "tennis
balls" out of my window but, only attracted some kid who immediately
shot me a bird..
Fucking old people are
such a burden..
|
|
| April 16th |
by: Seabass |
Back alley,
Dim
streetlight,
Cold
knees on the concrete
Dicksucker's
hideout..
Mall
toilet,
Back
stall,
Inside
a large bag
Dicksucker's
hideout..
Movie
theatre,
Last
row, right corner
During
a family show
Dicksucker's
hideout...
I keep watching
this movie in the middle of recent dreams and this song keeps playing
during it in parts. I tried to look it up on the net and keep getting
porn sites. I have no idea if it's something my subconscious has
created
or something I heard but, it's got a punk theme similar to the
Lunachicks and it's in my brain.
I hope it's a real song so I can download it.
|
|
April 8th
|
by: Seabass |
My mother gave me
AC/DC's Bonfire for Christmas and I finally gotten around to opening
and listening to some of it. I can sit here contemplating doing
something and before I know it. It's late and I haven't done anything
at all.. So I've been reading and scratching my balls for four hours
and it hits me to play some of these cd's. I have a load that needs to
go in the dryer, it's been sitting in the washer for three hours so
maybe I should go do that before I get buried in this reflection..
I was stuck at the Grandparents house growing up, and all they listened
to was Statler Brothers and Loretta Lynn. I didn't care for it and the
disco shit was in full bloom, not to mention many of the burnout stars
from the 60's were doing solo projects that sucked. The radio wasn't
developed down South and they frowned upon anything that was from
England. My youngest Aunt (a teenager then) had posters of Mick Jagger
and David Bowie on her wall but, I didn't like it either when she
played the 45's on her portable record player while the grandparents
were out.. On the television was morbid family programs called the
Walton's and Little House on the Prairie, with reruns of Bonanza during
the day. My grandparents would down a case of Red White and Blue beer,
watch this shit and feel good about themselves. Tell each other to go
to hell and sleep in different rooms.
So when my potsmoking older Aunt come back home from Delaware, it was
through her that I finally found the music that I still listen to now.
She was smoking a joint and driving me around in her Ford Pinto. She
had the Highway to Hell on 8-track and it was blaring through the
trailer park. I thought that was the coolest shit I ever heard. She
hung around this loser named Nick who lived in a trailer down the
street (I walked in one time when she was blowing him and got hit in
the head with a beer can, then run off). He had a Harley that was
dismantled and scattered around the shag red carpet and a tattoo of
Yosemite Sam on his arm. Bunch of centerfolds held onto the walls by
thumbtacks. It was winter and he was huddled by the oven for heat.
Trying to cook a pizza and keep the oven door open enough also so it
didn't get cold (It was an attractive lifestyle). I would go over there
a bunch because he had this nice console stereo and it was always
playing 24/7..
I would take the cigarettes over to him, that Gramps would lose behind
him while drunk. So in exchange he would put up with me as I looked at
his albums while he played them. He would let me play darts with him
and rub it in my ten year old face every time he beat me.. So long
after my Aunt grew bored with Nick and began blowing other guys. I was
memorizing the albums he had and to this day, I have about a little
piece of what he liked in my own favorites. Early Iron Maiden, Judas
Priest, AC/DC, Black Sabbath, Bloodrock, Pink Floyd, Frank Zappa and
Alice Cooper.
Soon afterward I remember watching Nick getting taken away by the cops.
Never knew what for but, he never came back and the neighborhood teens
broke into his trailer and, took what he left behind. Years later, I
would all get to know them and while visiting them I would see some of
Nick's records, in with their own shit. We would laugh at how big a
dickhead Nick was and listen to his records. Then wonder how a little
of the good and bad of people make up the sums of everyones life..
|
|
| March 31st |
by: Seabass |
Every place I've
ever worked at had this Bible Thumper employed there and you had to
ration his horseshit, along with the misery of being shackled with the
monontany of knowing, you never are getting anywhere in this life.
It
sucks, and frankly so does the Bible Thumper..
Well
this edition was heating up his spaghetti and trying to tote his bag of
shit (every one has this bag, that is filled with nonsense items, most
normal miserable people would deem unnecessary), his bible, and his
food. Well we heard him moaning on the other side of the break room and
really couldn't see him due to a row of lockers block our view.
Well
I looked around the corner and he spilled his spaghetti all over his
bible, his bag and onto the floor. He was sitting all red faced and
disappointed and I couldn't help but fucking laugh at him. Me laughing
had the rest of the sarcastic pricks trying to hold back tears. The
fucking guy was so torn up he began to sob.
Misery
never fails to bring up a bunch of dumb questions. You alright? Is that
you? Come join us? Those questions needle you when you're cleaning up a
wad of noodles with a bunch of flimsy paper towels. Since the lockers
block our view we got a 15 minute laugh out of it.
By
the time he was done he had about five minutes left to eat.
We
bought him one of those soybean burgers to compensate for the laugh. It
began raining hard half way through the night and when we clocked out
to go home. The same guy was trying to dry out the seat of his car
because he left his window down. I fucking laughed at him and while
looking around I saw some other dude across the parking lot doing the
same thing I was, laughing at him...
I can't stop
laughing now due to that pitiful son of a bitch..
All
got your kicks from what you saw up there
Eight
bucks even buys a folding chair
I
was downing seagrams on another flight
And
I worked that stage all night long
You
were screaming for the villain up there
And
I was much obliged
The
old road sure screwed me good this time
It's
hard to see where the vicious circle ends
I'm
stuck here on the inside looking out
That's
no big disgrace
Where's
my makeup where's my face on the inside
<Alice Cooper>
|
|
| March 28th |
by: Seabass |
Hey Seabass,
Where you at? I come by
and you seem like you are dead. You dead? Or going into one of those
things. Probably some woman. Come by the house this week.
BigDaddyPat
Nothing bad
really. I just get fucking tired and feel like I have to go somewhere.
It's an impulse I can't shake and I'm sicked of general conversation. I
hate questions, I don't have answers that make enough sense for people
so they keep asking me the same shit like. How was your day?
So don't expect me to come over for around a month. Tell your wife to
leave you and run away with me, she's far better company anyway and the
real reason I go to see you in the first place. She has a nice ass. I
envy you and about anybody who feels compelled to walk out their door
these days. Lately, I just can't begin the urge to. And I hate my door,
it's so fucking cheap, not even real.
I have been cruising
around the web, so many sites out there and it's depressing. I can
imagine how depressed some of you guys are that come here and listen to
my bullshit. All these sites with the porn. I don't get it due to you
can download the shit out of it from Kazaa and Morpheus by the ton.
I'm
curious to what people are downloading anyway. I don't care for the
basic porn, I've seen enough of that shit. I still like the old 70's
porn due to fuzzy focus, poor lighting and hairy genitals gives it a
extra seedy atmosphere that makes you feel extra sleazy. The blonde
chicks with the fake tits and the California douchebag males just don't
get that extra blood pumping to my cock. Put a thick mustache and a
pair of old Foster Grant's on some heroin addict and I'm game. I tend
to have a cigarette after jerking off and feel like a man again.
But
I have to admit that since I got the DSL, I have looked into newer
things. I don't care for the BDSM, but the Tranny abuse and sissy
tormenting have caught my eye. Watching dudes getting assfucked by
women with strap-ons while jerking them off have caught my eye also.
The catfighting with bitches choking out one another is cool. The
incest, the dog and pony shows. The girls getting fucked by dildos
attached to power tools have been a pleasant surprise.
I
really hate to say it Pat. I need some direction in life. A focus,
something to cling to, a foundation. Someone to share burden, pain,
laughter, all that sensable horseshit that we all need. I need to quit
having dreams where ex-girlfriends are stabbing me into comas. I need
to quit crying when I come out of the coma. I need to go back to being
an alcoholic, so the pain in my liver can get me off of thinking about
the same shit over again. I need to eat more fruit and cut out the
starch. Quit working at my job while I sleep and begin sleeping more at
my job. I need the shit slapped out of me.
So
until I can calm down a little, quit fantasizing about fucking your
wife so much. Focus on a new project that can ultimately add to the
other failures I have accumilated. It seems that sitting between the
walls here is the safest place. So I'll call you later, hope your
Easter goes well.
Seabass..
|
|
| March 20th |
by: Seabass |
The thing I hate about being this age
is you begin to wear disgust on yourself as if it is a suit. Fucking
people annoy you to no end. The men are all damn fools, the women are
whores and cunts. You want to kill animals, children, teenagers, gov't
employees, anybody with a slight look of confusion. I'm not sure if the
disgust is with yourself, the people or perceptions that annoy you or
if it's just a transition phase.
The latter is a good theory due to I rarely see anyone my age or cross
paths with them. They all appear older or younger. I have met two in
the past year exactly in their mid thirties and both have contracted
cancer. So I am assuming that people my age are doing the same thing I
am doing, writing angrily in a hovel of a place with a cobweb in each
corner of a room, desiring some sort of situation to transpire that
radically changes them. I think it was called an inspiration once.
Truthfully, I forget.
The days have passed without much to put into mental storage. I know
the past Tuesday morning at work I was wondering where all the youth
are dwelling due to I was surrounded by old men. I asked the manager if
they placed the now hiring ad in the obituaries to bring such a
collection of old stiffs into one place. Old fucks who could be sitting
in a chair, under a blanket with a smoke and a cup of coffee, content
to not play the game anymore. Instead they rather slum and complain,
talk about the good old days, their high blood pressure and sore feet.
Mind you nothing resembling labor is coming from them, just a mob of
old men watching the fucking walls close in.
Soon afterward on the way home, I was getting a cup of coffee. I put
some of that cappacinno shit in it to give it a lift and, the bitch
behind the counter can't make up her mind what to charge me due to
regular coffee is 1.09 and the cappacinno shit is 1.39. She's so rude
about it so, I gave her 2 bucks and, told her to stuff the change up
her ass. I shouldn't have to conform to two selections, not if it's my
money I am spending. She blurts out "don't come back." The next day she
decides to drop the change on the counter rather than hand it to me, a
protest in some ways to me ignoring her earlier threat. I pushed it
back at her, told her she can put it in the fucking jar on the counter
to help pay the leukemia kid's doctor bills. She gets offended with the
comment. I told her to be offended is a common trait of the narrow
minded, if you hate it here then quit.
The next day the manager is there to inform me that I needed to shop
somewhere else. I asked him why? He replies, due to my beligerance. I
told him to go fuck himself, it's a free country. He demands I leave,
so I do ( I figure he wants to fuck her). The next day he isn't there
and the bitch tells me that she has to call the law. I tell her to go
ahead. She refuses to accept my money so I leave with my cup of coffee
that I wasn't allowed to buy. Five miles down the road the cop she
calls, pulls me over, tells me not to go to that store anymore. I
explain to him that the gal there is a real cunt. He agrees and
encourages me not to do any business with them, refering a place he
likes to go that has better coffee.
I take his advice the following day and he's right. The coffee is much
better. I still feel like going to that fucking store just to piss that
bitch off once more but I'll get arrested.
I may call her on my break though just to get under her skin. The weird
part is in a sadist kind of way, I would like to fuck the bitch.
Maybe all the mid thirty year olds are in the lock up for being pricks.
I don't know but, I still don't understand why getting a cup of coffee
is such a damn hassle these days. Fucking people just look for conflict
then when they find one (a miserable fellow such as myself), they can't
take the abrasive consequences that they brought upon themselves by
being an asshole to begin with. If she would have smiled, I would
have payed her and still been a customer. Instead they lost business
due to a twat, a balding, horny manager and cop who knows all the good
places to harbor his fat ass around when he isn't pulling me over.
So the disgust I'm wearing is maybe something of my own devise but, it
still doesn't ease the resentment I feel for that fucking Stuckey's
along the main highway.
|
|
|
|
EVIL
DICK
COFFIN_RUST
FORCED
EXISTENCE
Archive
1
Cramped Vagina
Lowrent's studio
Mr. Estrogen
|