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12/12/25   
Sliding down the razor blade of happiness into the alcohol of joy

Learn About Rain

by Dixon LaRue
bio/email
June 23, 2003
The rain falls wet like
sloppery skittles
from the mouth of a
stupid dog.

The beautiful rain,
it coats the trees
like sex lubricant.
But that's where
the rivers come from.

The rain slides down the trees
like sweat down the crack of your ass
and puddles on the ground
where a child could drown
if it were sleeping or hog-tied
or just plain stupid.

Those puddles slink
across the soil like creeping
wet things
to form creeks,
which conspire to form streams
which fuck together into rivers.

Rivers are like a freeway
of water drops,
all the drops cutting each
other off
and screaming profanely.
You can hear them.

But it's not like a freeway
because ducks can't float
on the freeway
or logs or alligators
with frogs on their backs.
Quick! Jump in the hole with the fly!
Where frog sex can occur
and the bonus round is secured.

The rain fills up the ocean and lakes,
but in the roundabout way,
like a drunk peeing on the wall,
instead of in the dixie cup you gave him.
Nature is like that dirty drunk.
That is the lesson.


Quote of the Day
“When you wish upon a star… doesn't that burn like a motherfucker? Those things are basically like other suns. Me, I do all my wishing on the floor of my bedroom.”

-"Cricket-Bat" Nigel Jiminy
Fortune 500 Cookie
Your future lies in Clearasil, now and forever. Having Carrot Top fill in for you at the anchor desk Tuesday might just end your career. Why is more than one sheep still called sheep? And why are they so damned affectionate? You're going to regret correcting Randy Savage's grammar before the week is done. Saturday: Fish or die.


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