Spastic Gastric Function

by Violet Tiara

November 25, 2002

"Spastic Gastric Function"
is the social event of the year,
bathe your Clydesdales in lite beer...
Homeo-apathy as a viable career?

Flaccid pansies? I'd eat them gladly.
Anteaters play clarinets,
from the trunks of blue corvettes,
the gentlemen have placed their bets.

Take your chances
on pairs of pantses
that look lovely when they're nuzzled
between the ass cheeks of male models
who suck the rubber tit of baby bottles.

Terrorists?
Don't act so pissed,
just because your country's all full of sand.
Think sand castles all across the land!
Everyone's a king until the crabs attack.

The earth cries,
the French fries
have eyes and legs.
Holy shit McDonalds on acid!
There's a tarantula with Velcro knees,
George Bush honking on the Japanese.

Rubbery dumplings
shit out the ass of mumbling somethings,
green are their eyes but they only say one thing:
"Hello can I take your order?"

Ronald please,
no angry cow disease
for me.
I'll have the salad, plain as Jane,
and please hold the holes in my brain.

The world's a kaleidoscope
not an Al-Qaidascope
and we all try to hope
we'll live long enough to elope,
a wedding in mauve and taupe
with incontinents jumping rope.

Or at least a back-seat grope
with some kind of hot-ass guru or something
we met at the Spastic Gastric Function.

Quote of the Day

“Don't run if you can walk. Don't walk if you can stand. Don't stand if you can sit. Don't sit if you can lie down. Don't like down if you can sleep. Don't sleep if you can be put into a medically induced coma. Don't be put into a medically induced coma if you can kick back in an iron lung and have machines shit for you. Don't do any of that if golf is on TV.”

-Lazy Larry Lisbaine

Fortune 500 Cookie

You're gonna die this week. Sorry we couldn't put a more clever spin on that. In the meantime, try pouring sugar on your cereal instead of milk. Fuck it, what's anybody gonna do about it now? If it's any consolation, almost everyone in the world doesn't know you're alive anyway. This week's lucky coffin models: Dirt Rocket III, Econo-Sarcophagus Jr, The Spruce Moose, Office Max Moving Box Model 223117, The Bobsled to Hell, Spring-Loaded Jokester's Delight, Seventh Generation Biodegradable Grandma Sack, foot locker in your ex-boyfriend's closet.

Try again later.

Top Shocking New Barry Bonds Allegations

1.	Extra 45 pounds of muscle added in 1998 not actually from special "Reverse-Atkins Crazy Carboholics" diet
2.	Injected Flubber into testicles, just for hell of it
3.	Paunchy, long-haired trainer "Camaro Dan" not actual fitness expert
4.	Dosed with Nyquilâ€”during daylight hours!
5.	Bonds' bats made from genetically-modified maple trees
6.	Therapeutic skin grafts actually beef grafts
7.	Bonds-endorsed "Human Growth Flakes" cereal not safe for children
8.	Bonds didn't actually write "Surfin' Safari"
9.	Tasmanian Devil hormone injections not a court-ordered road rage treatment
10.	Friends, relatives refer to Bonds as "Skippy"

The Spell of My Love
T is for the time we spend, each day like a minute going too fast; H is for the heart I give, for the love inside I have gladly amassed; O is for the order, my life is my own with you in it; N is for the nurturing, because you my... (11/11/02)

TV REPAIR
Fat patterns pulsing in stitches of static erratic and plastic, the spastic display. With a bang and a kick and a "cheap motherfucker!" an emergency side-slapping repair is performed. The picture then jittered and shimmied and quivered then... (10/28/02)

Claw
A quick short walk to the beach you wear your blue bikini blue like my heart blue like my teardrops and almost I can see the nipples your boobs, not my heart or teardrops We walk, hand in hand and one more hand like the hand of... (10/14/02)