Creative Writing

[pugetopolis]

So you don't remember where you parked your car?

[appaloosabeach]

I

[appaloosabeach]

........those of us that are old enough to remember, I know exacxtly where I was when JFK took the magical bullet, thank you Cuba, MLK on a dirrty little motel 6 deck, he wants to go out and view the Memphis skyline, kerplow. What a surprise. The more things change the more they stay the same

[pugetopolis]

...so you remember where you parked your car in Memphis?

 

[appaloosabeach]

I was working for a limo company, room for six in the back, there were six or seven in the back, jack daniels, pot, a shy bit of LSD, my little pane, taken two hours earlier, up and running at full speed, where the hell did I park that goddamn bus? Um, wait, the bus was last weekend, I'm doing the limo, I'm doing th limo.............................

[pugetopolis]

A friend of mine from Arcata sayz that acid is a great aphrodisiac. I said he’s lucky—to be able to enjoy such nice recreation at his age. He said, “You’d be surprised, bub.” I said, “I always thought a cold Silver Bullet six-pack did the trick real nice.” He said…

[pugetopolis]

“Oh, man, I really had a hot date
the other night!!!" Afterwards, I
heard him mumble…

________________________________

Heck, people, I can
do the Appaloosa
thing all day!!!!!

[appaloosabeach]

Dear Pugee, I write this with no disrepect but I don't think you have any friends in Arcata. Or Eureka or Crescent City. Maybe Chico, I was arrested once in Chico, there was this lesbian city cop, wrote me a parking ticket, she could definitely be your friend. Now that I think of it, I've never seen the two of you together at the same place, same time. Hmmmmm.

[appaloosabeach]

She wrote me a two hundred dollar parking ticket. You know the helicopter landing spots next to hospitals, all those flashing after dark blue lights, the ER lot was packed, my friend had overdosed on acid and his hardon was killing him, I had to park somewhere, I left the engine running, what's the big deal? Seems a Greyhound bus full of German tourists doing the northern California thing rolled over into an Uncle Ben's rice pond, two dead, several missing, three on board the helicopter that wanted to land where my idling 1963 Ford Galaxie convertible, yes the top was down, was illegally parked. I swear there were no signs posted. My 84 year old father was asleep in the back seat until he got that bright helicopter spot light in the eyes. Then the lezbo cop had the car towed, wrote the ticket, never visited Chico again.

[pugetopolis]

Chicks in Chico

“My friend had overdosed on acid and his hardon was killing him…” Well, Appaloosabeach, all I can say is that I’ve been there done that too, dude. I too have suffered the slings & arrows of Chico lezbo cops and the unbearable pain & suffering of having an overdosed hallucinogenic hardon and lots of fuckin’ heartache. Yes, I’ll never forget that time in Chico when I ended up DOA—dumped on the hospital steps by my no-good so-called buddy, Sammy the Schmuck. It was all his fault. He got me loaded on Mezcal and acid—I even swallowed that goddamned Mexican worm in there. I felt wiggle all the way down my fuckin’ throat, down into poor gut and then into my acid-fried stupid brain. That’s when it happened. I had my first out-of-body experience—only it was inside-my-body instead of the other way around. Like I became that fuckin’ worm—I’m not kidding you. It was an Alien Worm—a mean one. A real Nightcrawler from Hell. They have an expression in Oaxaca regarding the drink: "para todo mal, mezcal y para todo bien también" (for everything bad, mezcal, and for everything good, too.”) But also, I’ve been told "Let's get the whole worm thing straight right now, muchachos. If there's a worm at the bottom of your Mezcal bottle, you've either purchased gag-inducing hooch aimed at gullible gringos, or your top-shelf booze is infested by some kind of alcohol-breathing, alien bug." Well, that’s what I was suffering from all right—a big ole heavy-breathing, fuckin’ ugly Alien bug. Ten times worse than that lezbo cop with her Taser-gun vibrating dildo-baton turned up to High—that I somehow ended up with that night in the Chico Upchuck Motel. No, the Worm thing was a lot worse than that. It took its fuckin’ time wiggling around here & there—tasting tender tidbits of my guts and brains. My poor Chico cerebral cortex—definitely got a chicken-shit ream-job. Funny tho, my IQ only went down a few points from 50 to 40. The worst part of it tho—was my you-know-what. I suppose it’s even worse for guyz—well-endowed down there in the Bargain Basement? Cause that’s where that Worm—really went to town with yours truly. Maybe you know what I mean? With a name like “Appaloosabeach”—I betcha you’re well-endowed and hung like a horse, hmm kimosabe? Yes, it’s both a blessing & a curse in disguise—when you’re “DOA DickVitale Doomed” like I was back then. I mean Jaysus H. Christ on Crutches—that Chico lezbo cop sure was mean. She even ended up dumpin’ me in some Traveling Carnival Sideshow from LA—just for Chico Freaks and hapless victims like me who had unpaid traffic tickets. I mean they took one look at my eternally-throbbing, excruciatingly-grotesque, big Mezcal piece’o’meat… and they saw $$$$$ signs popping up in the Arcade Ticket Office!!! You know, it was like Olga Baclanova—the chick who played Cleopatra in Tod Browning’s “Freaks” (1932). The freaks done turned her from a beautiful Trapeze Queen chick—into a loathsome Chicken Woman, groveling down there in the carnie sawdust in front of a bunch of young rubes with huge nasty-lookin’ insatiable hardons. Talk about Pearls cast before oinky Swine—it was just plain awful what they made Olga and me do. All those Kansas farmboyz—and Nebraska hicks. Thank god for Johnny Eck the Half-Boy—along with Zip and Pip the Pinhead Twins. We jumped in Johnny’s ’55 Chevy Corvette real fast—and made our desperate getaway from Chico. I’m still kinda bothered—down there every once in awhile tho. By that Evel Knievel Alien Mezcal Worm—writhin’ & twitchin’ around and givin’ me a hard time. But I’m just glad I got outta there—outta Chico in one piece. I’ve never been back since…

[appaloosabeach]

I may have mentioned this once before but my second cousin, Billy Ray, was killed by a hundred pound block of frozen shrimp that fell out of a seafood company's cargo carrying seaplane. The pilot banked sharply to port to avoid a flock of brown pelicans and the unsecured chunk of icy decapods slid out the open cargo door and, falling at 32 feet per second, drove Billy Ray's head straight into that dark, rich Louisianna bayou soil. All seven of his kids and his twenty-three year old wife witnessed the event. They pulled his body into the shade, sprayed a can of Raid around the remains, then hauled the broken pieces of shrimp ice into the house and into the big Kenmore freezer. Never look a gift horse in the mouth.

[carol polk]

It was a dark and stormy night - no, wait, it was a bright and sunny morning when the broken down dray - no wait, it was a shiny new brougham turned left - no, wait, right onto the landing strip where ...

[rantbo]

...the caped, or perhaps hooded, figure of Indecision Man waited, or perhaps merely lounged, on the tarmac.  As he turned to his faithful sidekick, or perhaps it was a cunning alter ego, a sudden flash of light, or possibly a sudden powerful stench, caused him to blink several times and say...

[appaloosabeach]

.... Mr. President, Air Force One is this way. Arm in arm they approached the plane, stopping only to ...

[rantbo]

....allow the President a brief prayer.  Unrolling his prayer mat, the Kenyan-born leader did a brief Shiite ritual, bowing to Mecca, and praying that the nation did not discover that...