The Quiet Part

CHORUS

It’s a bunch of bigotry, call it what it is

Say the quiet part out loud for the backseat kids

Call yourself Hitler so we’ll never be your friend

Never trust you with a single thing ever again

 

VERSE 1

What’s the matter? Did Vince make you sign an NDA?

Tell us all why you really hate the WNBA

They got pussies and tits, and sometimes they got dicks

And they’re kicking the shit out of your number one draft picks

Hey, Ronda Rousey, tell us why you won’t fight Fallon

Because the urine in your shorts measures to at least a gallon

But you can flip Triple H like he’s a blueberry flapjack

The thought of transgender people makes you blast out your ass crack

 

CHORUS

It’s a bunch of bigotry, call it what it is

Say the quiet part out loud for the backseat kids

Call yourself Hitler so we’ll never be your friend

Never trust you with a single thing ever again

 

VERSE 2

Hey, JK Rowling, what’s your next book about?

Is the little wizard Harry having existential doubt?

You don’t have the wherewithal for anything that deep

You think too much about genitals, you bus stop creep

Hey, Sean Strickland, you’re full of your own shit

There’s no way you don’t rub prostates a.k.a. butt clits

Do you use your own dick or is it just a little short?

Try using your fingers and then give them a snort

 

CHORUS

It’s a bunch of bigotry, call it what it is

Say the quiet part out loud for the backseat kids

Call yourself Hitler so we’ll never be your friend

Never trust you with a single thing ever again

 

VERSE 3

Hey, Tommy Vext, what’s it like to not have sex

With the women you abused and the women who are next?

You had a good thing going with the fatphobic You Tuber

Could’ve made some demon babies in the back of an Uber

Hey, Bill Maher, why you got to be a Boomer

Who dates Generation Zers like a motherfucking groomer?

The only youngsters you like are the ones you can fuck

I bet those AOC laws have got to fucking suck

 

CHORUS

It’s a bunch of bigotry, call it what it is

Say the quiet part out loud for the backseat kids

Call yourself Hitler so we’ll never be your friend

Never trust you with a single thing ever again

Be My Zealot

VERSE 1

Second chances just don’t feel right

You had so many, the count’s out of sight

More than a bastard should ever deserve

New high score, stroke yourself, you perv

The gates of heaven have a permanent lock

I’ve stuffed the key down the front of my jock

Bolt cutters won’t get you past the arches

Now you’re a target for angelic archers

 

PRE-CHORUS 1

You want forgiveness? This is all you have to do

 

CHORUS

Be my zealot

Be my fanatic

I’ll be your god

Your reason to panic

Give me your body

Give me your soul

Give me your mind

Absolute control

Be my zealot!

 

VERSE 2

You spent so long raping my eardrums

With punch-down humor, your favorite fun

You spent so long renting space in my head

You’ll pay that debt long after you’re dead

You spent so long ripping out my heart

Breaking it so many times, I don’t know where to start

You spent so long ignoring my demands

To stop the insanity, ‘cause I won’t let it stand

 

PRE-CHORUS 1

You want forgiveness? This is all you have to do

 

CHORUS

Be my zealot

Be my fanatic

I’ll be your god

Your reason to panic

Give me your body

Give me your soul

Give me your mind

Absolute control

Be my zealot!

 

BRIDGE

The day of your funeral has finally arrived

Nobody showed up, so there’re no tears to cry

I walk past the steel gates with a heavy bladder

Pull out my pecker, your grave gets the splatter

 

PRE-CHORUS 2

It’s too late for forgiveness, so now that you’re in hell

 

CHORUS

Be my zealot

Be my fanatic

I’ll be your god

Your reason to panic

Give me your body

Give me your soul

Give me your mind

Absolute control

Be my zealot!

Rainbow Ranch, Chapter 5

The top octave was alive with buzzing noises that prickled Lucy’s ear hairs. Must have been another lightning spell that King Harrison was conjuring up. Must have been how this story was going to end: the same way King Harrison’s life ended before he had stolen Loki as a bodily vessel. This was Lucy the Hammer’s destiny: a half-wiener dog cooked like the piece of meat she was named after. She held her friends tightly as if her armor was enough to shield them from a visit from the Angel of Death. If they were leaving Rainbow Ranch together, they’d cross the Rainbow Bridge together. The silver lining in that cloud? They’d never have to see King Harrison again and they’d never have to fight another pointless war against forces they couldn’t understand.

 

“Out of my face, you annoying tart!” belted Harrison. The buzzing continued, but was now accompanied by sounds of heavy swatting. “Go on, get out of here! Move it!”

 

Confusion didn’t weigh on Lucy’s heart nearly as heavily as grief and despair. She welcomed the new emotion as she turned to see what was up. The buzzing was not from a new lightning spell that would send them into the nothing. It was but an amethyst-colored fly flapping its little wings around Harrison’s face, a ghost of sorts. For someone who loved animals, he was quick to annoy when the lifeforms were slightly uglier than a puppy.

 

Harrison continued to swat at the ghost fly and the “annoying tart” dodged and weaved out of the way with minimal effort. His teeth gnashed together and his fists tightened as this microscopic creature got under…whatever was left of his skin. Even when the ghost fly tried to swoop out of Ozzie’s humble abode, Harrison, visibly frustrated, floated after the little dickens and swatted some more while grumbling and groaning through his slime-covered teeth.

 

Lucy, Ozzie, Callie, and Loki looked at each other with their heads tilted in perplexity. Lucy shrugged her shoulders before the four of them leapt to their feet and pitter-pattered outside to see what was going on. Lucy’s eyes widened and her tiny jaw dropped at the sight of their saviors. “Wow…it can’t be…I don’t believe it…” she whispered.

 

On one side of the snowy hill floated the ghost of King Harrison, a disgraced politician and sorcerer who couldn’t let go of his own demons, even at the expense of those who loved him. On the other side of the hill…King James stood with folded arms and a death stare scrawled across his bearded face. And speaking of death stares, nobody did them better than his necromancer confidant himself, Razor Ripley, whose magic was used to resurrect the fly and cause the momentary distraction. With a flick of Ripley’s bony finger, the magic left the fly’s body and drifted into the dark of space.

 

Both sides of this confrontation stared at each other with murderous intentions, fists clenched, lungs expanding and contracting with raspy flows, and deadly eyes that could have been weapons by themselves if not for the necessity of forged steel. Still in Ozzie’s doorway were the four animals who were responsible for exorcising Harrison’s ghost from Loki’s body. Razor Ripley knew they bore the responsibility and gave an ashen-eyed wink at Lucy, which instead of reassuring her, caused her to gulp and shiver. She could never get used to how creepy the necromancer looked even during moments of happiness.

 

King James uncrossed his arms and took a few steps forward, his steel boots crunching in the thick snow. His eyes never disengaged with Harrison’s furious gaze. “It’s over, brother,” said James. “Your quest for revenge was never going anywhere to begin with…and it has nowhere to go now. This whole conflict was little more than a waste of our time and resources. You could have ruled Rainbow Ranch with a kind heart and a wise mind. You could have asked for help if you needed it. And yet…you continued down your self-destructive path. For what reason, dear brother? Why did this need to happen?” No answer from Harrison, only fury. “Answer me, damn it!”

 

“And how exactly did you plan on helping me?” asked Harrison. “What could you have done to make this pain more bearable? I know! You could reach inside my head and pull out every demon that has ever spoken to me and told me this was a good idea! You can still do it now even as my physical form has turned to rotten waste! What are you waiting for, dear brother?! Do it! It’s the only way!”

 

Razor Ripley took a few steps forward until he was side-by-side with his royal master. “This sarcasm is unbecoming of you, Harrison. You bloody well knew what you needed to do. Talk through it all. Identify your emotions. Process the worst parts of your trauma. The healing would have been most difficult, but not impossible. All that being equal…you couldn’t be bothered to participate in your own rescue. That’s why you’re a ghost and everyone else is alive. And I do mean…everyone.”

 

From the bottom of the mountain, Lucy the Hammer’s old squad mates marched up the hill with weapons in hand and stoicism plastered on their jowly visages. Granted, they didn’t quite dry off from being washed down the power station, they were dogs and hygiene was at least the fourth or fifth item on their list of priorities. As Lucy’s heart dropped to her guts, she clutched her chest, smiled weakly, and tried to stifle a flood of tears that would for sure recreate what happened at the power station. Loki licked her face and got a giggle out of her. The tears would have to wait.

 

“As I said before, brother man…it’s over. Your worthless crusade is over,” said James.

 

The ghost of King Harrison cupped his hands and gathered an ample amount of fire energy, which swirled all around him, igniting a furious passion that was par for the course for a man with his demons. “Nothing is over until I say it’s over! This war will continue whether you’re too lazy to continue it or not!”

 

And just like that, Lucy had enough of this arrogant posturing. She proved him wrong before and she would do it again. She furrowed her eyebrows, set her hammer down, and rolled a snowball into her paws before launching it at the back of Harrison’s head.

 

“Ouch! You stupid dog!” bellowed Harrison.

 

“Death Rattle! FIRE!” commanded Razor Ripley. The snowball strike distracted Harrison long enough that he failed to defend himself from the one spell that could send a ghost into the endless void forever: the Death Rattle. That poor fly’s spirit floated away in short order, may his sacrifice never be forgotten. And after a jagged mini-tornado zipped across the hill, the Death Rattle spell found its mark.

 

Harrison’s ghostly essence contorted and twisted into multiple positions as it struggled to resist its inevitable fate. The morphing proved to make Lucy’s eyes widen and heart race faster than actual combat with this foe just moments earlier. Harrison’s head expanded like a balloon. His arms were growing and shrinking willy-nilly. His legs twisted up in a little knot. His stomach gurgled and boiled audibly enough to gag the dogs standing behind Ripley and King James. And then…Harrison’s ghostly body stretched and thinned out as it expanded to the sky. It stretched…and stretched…and stretched…until it was too thin to even exist anymore. And then…POOF! The glowing energy snuffed out and Harrison was but a distant memory. Such a shame he couldn’t get a proper send-off with his own funeral service, but coming back to life and fighting a meaningless war was a decision he made by himself…and one he would carry with him to eternity.

 

Silence took over the battlefield as everyone involved slowed down to process everything they just went through and saw for themselves. Lucy’s heartbeat steadied. Her eyes dried out and returned to normal size. Her heavy breathing had grown shallow. Everyone stood there and let the moment sink in. No more pointless revenge quests. No more insanity. No more wasted motion. Just a land of animals called Rainbow Ranch, where the abandoned and unloved could finally have a community of their own.

 

After a while of taking it all in, Lucy’s smile started to grow and she let out a few giggles. She picked up her oversized hammer and leapt into the air holding it overhead. “We did it!” The Shut Up Stupid Dogs squadron cheered, barked, and howled at the realization that this brutal struggle was over. Ozzie and Callie hugged each other and rekindled the love that was lost so long ago. Loki rushed over to his true owner and licked his bony toes while King James patted him on the head. Lucy continued to run, jump, and play while swinging her hammer in the air. “We did it! We did it, everyone! We gave that mean old man the old One, Two, Buckle Your Shoe!”

 

In her overexcitement, Lucy swung her hammer in the same spinning motion that caused her to belly flop at the power station. But this time…she landed on her feet. Silence overtook the mountain once again as everyone stared at Lucy’s celebratory dance. She actually did it. She landed on her feet. This just made her smile, spin, and dance even more. Wasn’t that what life in Rainbow Ranch was supposed to be about? Smiling, spinning, and dancing? Running, jumping, wrestling, and playing?

 

But now looking at the weapon of war in her hand, Lucy had a decision to make. She had grown comfortable enough in her role as a soldier protecting Rainbow Ranch from the worst of the worst. At the same time, she longed for the feeling of a tennis ball in her mouth, long-nailed hands scratching her belly, and eating sausages that exploded with juice in every bite. This wouldn’t be a decision she could make lightly, but it was one worth considering now that King Harrison was in the rear view.

Hell

VERSE 1

I see a frog-faced old man who tried to break my spirit

I see a demon-faced lover, when I said no, she didn’t hear it

I see a horse-faced soldier who laughed at all my faults

I see a zombie-faced friend who was no friend at all

 

CHORUS

I’m in hell!

I’m in hell!

I’m in hell!

I’m in hell!

 

VERSE 2

I burn inside the pit with people made of shit

I lay across the torture table with the opposite of Abel

I take a dip in the lake of fire until I break

I’m chained against the wall with nothing to do but bawl

 

CHORUS

I’m in hell!

I’m in hell!

I’m in hell!

I’m in hell!

 

BRIDGE

I pissed off the gods of schizophrenia

One too many times, hell is where I’m ending up

I’m locked in here, key dangling like a carrot

To clean my dirty laundry, I have to air it

 

VERSE 3

I fight with knives in my hands to bring the light to this land

I fight with stones in my heart, because villainy is an art

I fight with thunder in my mind, I’ll fuck up whatever I find

I fight with immortality, because I own this eternity

 

CHORUS

I’m in hell!

I’m in hell!

I’m in hell!

I’m in hell!

 

FINAL LINE

Wouldn’t skip this for the world

Saliva

You grab my wrist as I try to walk away

“Let’s talk like adults!” I hear you say

Grown up you may be, you scream like a kid

Who got one too few of his Christmas gifts

 

Every word is a breach of the peace

The bar was in hell, top level at least

I told you that I don’t like confrontation

You did jack shit with the information

 

You don’t have within you the will to change

Yet you want my open-mindedness all the same

An open mind is a two-way street

And sometimes you have to travel on broken feet

 

An honest conversation is not what this is

Breaking spirits is your favorite sin

Only one thing to do to end this friendship

That I gave so many years of my investment

 

Saliva in your face, running down your nose

And onto your lips, it drips so slow

The ultimate act of disrespect

Sadness in your eyes is what I detect

 

Goodbye, old friend, until next time

Which is hopefully never, that wish is mine

I finally turn and walk out of sight

And now I bid you the coldest of nights

 

My bed is warm, my food is hot

My home is here, with you it’s not

Maybe in the next life if it exists

We can start all over as innocent kids

I Like Violence

VERSE 1

Columbian necktie, fuck all the dead guys

Fuck all the victims and their prison bitches

Stick a chainsaw right through your heart

Grab a double-barrel and blast you like a fart

I’m gonna bite your neck and take your head

Give it to your wife like breakfast in bed

Put the rest of your dead ass under the dirt

Wipe your blood on my Pantera shirt

 

CHORUS

I like violence

Because you don’t believe in silence

Running your mouth like verbal diarrhea

This pistol on my shelf gives me a good idea

 

VERSE 2

I’m gonna chop down your family tree

Watch it crash on your ass and make you bleed

Put the rest of your meat over a spit roast

Drink your blood and make a slainte toast

I drink to good health and the big, big money

And a lot of nice days in the hot, hot sunny

I think I overcooked your disgusting skin

But you were always destined for a garbage bin

 

CHORUS

I like violence

Because you don’t believe in silence

Running your mouth like verbal diarrhea

This pistol on my shelf gives me a good idea

 

BRIDGE

Violent nightmares have become wet dreams

The crotch of my pants has burst at the seams

I would have busted it any fucking way

With my jackhammer johnson blasting you away

 

VERSE 3

I’m gonna tie you down and make you sing

Watch you squirm while I’m eating hot wings

Squirt some sauce in your pretty blue eyes

Hold a microphone to your pretty little cries

I’m gonna cut you open, flip you inside-out

Put it all on Tik Tok for years’ worth of clout

Jigsaw ain’t got a thing on me

I ripped his eyes out and made him see

 

EXTENDED CHORUS

I like violence

Because you don’t believe in silence

Running your mouth like verbal diarrhea

This pistol on my shelf gives me a good idea

Blast your brains like you blew a freight train

Explode your chest and set fire to the rest

Am I smoking crack or am I just plain sick?

Let me think about this while I stroke my dick

March Was the Drizzling Shits

…Alright, look…I’m not going to bullshit you guys. The month of March in 2024 has been absolute dogshit for me. I’m grateful to get off of Risperidone, but there’s a price to pay for doing that. I thought I’d been over the worst of it when I stopped sweating profusely and when I wasn’t boiling hot all the time. But there’s another side effect that I’m still dealing with today that I don’t talk about very often. I don’t talk about it because it’s a creepy subject. Ever since I got off Risperidone, I’ve been incredibly horny 24/7. I’ve been living in my own head thinking about these elaborate sexual and romantic fantasies while being completely disconnected from the real world. Anytime I’ve had to step outside my own “heaven” as I call it, I’ve been cranky and irritable, even if I’m doing something that’ll benefit my family like doing laundry or going grocery shopping. I was shopping at Safeway one time and I was getting frustrated that I couldn’t go home to my room and…take care of business. But “taking care of business” only keeps the horniness at bay for a short period of time. And then I’m banging on “heaven’s gates” wanting to be let back in. This has been my entire March in 2024. Three poems and a stream-of-consciousness essay came out of it, sure, but not much else beyond that. I haven’t cracked open “Elantris” since early February. I haven’t written a chapter of Rainbow Ranch since January. I haven’t written a chapter of Beautiful Monster since last year. Last! Year! I haven’t drawn a picture since February. Everything is piling up while I’m trapped in my own fucking head. Take it from me: being horny all the time isn’t the kind of fun that most incels and alpha males would make it out to be. It sucks. It absolutely fucking sucks. How much longer do I have to wait for my brain to recalibrate? Patience is not one of my virtues, in case it wasn’t abundantly clear. So if you ask me what my plans are for the day, I’ve got none. My schedule is clear, but my head is not. I’m counting down the days when this bullshit will end. Thanks for listening to me for a while. Sorry if me talking about sex makes you feel uncomfortable.

Temptation

PART ONE: TEMPTATION IN HEAVEN

In my head, there is only heaven

The angels here are stuff of legends

Manic Pixie Dream Girls don’t exist

Except in a euphoric state of bliss

 

Lovely teachers in dresses and sandals

More than my chemicals could ever handle

They catch me staring and only smile back

Give them some wine and help them relax

 

Whoever said You Tube isn’t eHarmony

Never met the angels that are charming me

Closing distance with hugs and kisses

A future with all of them as my missus

 

When wrestling women get done in the ring

They turn up the sweetness and make my heart sing

They’re more than the skimpy gear that they wear

They’re reasons to stroke their soft silky hair

 

It doesn’t matter if I’m weird or lack money

They call me cupcake and call me honey

I get to be a star and then kiss the sky

Kiss magical women and make them cry

 

TELEVISION DIALOGUE

“Heaven? Hmph! Whatever made you think you were in heaven, Mr. Valentine? This IS the other place!”

 

PART TWO: THE AWAKENING

I spent too long in my own fantasies

The real world has so much they’re asking me

Family and friends haven’t seen me in weeks

My clothes are piling up, my body reeks

 

I got work to do and a legacy to build

I’m still creative and I’ll die on that hill

These novel characters are stuck in limbo

While I spent my days with imagined sex symbols

 

Read a book and your ignorance will die

But I can’t find the energy, can’t find the time

Drifting in and out of consciousness

Another reason to be lacking confidence

 

Build Legos like I did when I was a kid

I’m still a kid, but just a little bit mid

My hall of fame is showing its shame

When my broken promises are all the same

 

Do chores around the house, make it clean

Your domestic mistakes should be heard and not seen

Scrub the dishes and take out the garbage

For god’s sake, it should smell like a botanical garden

 

Talk to your people, talk to your pets

One chance in this life is all you get

Tell them you love them no matter what

Save them from your pain that deeply cuts

 

PART THREE: BACK TO HELL

I’m exiled from heaven, but I can’t go back to hell

The demons were the reason I was so unwell

Fighting and fucking, two sides of a coin

Stroking the tip before a kick in the groin

 

I fought so many battles with the forces of hell

That they’re often too traumatic, I shouldn’t tell

Screams, rage, death, blood

Spending so many nights face down in the mud

 

I’m just too tired to keep swinging my axe

I wish there was some sort of therapy tax

I wish there was somebody that I could ask

To kill the demons for me, but don’t let it last

 

I was born in the fire and I’ll never retire

It was never a reason for me to be a crier

Suck it up, suck it in, get back in the cage

Until I hit senior citizen age

 

If I live that long, my brain will turn to shit

And my hospital gown will be a perfect fit

Go under the knife for the rest of my life

As the memories fade of an imaginary wife

Final Fantasy

VERSE 1

Magical woman says, “I did a line of cocaine

It numbs all the pain in my outer space brain”

Magical woman says, “They hate my penis

They either shout shit at me or pay me to see it”

Magical woman says, “I haven’t showered in weeks

Every shirt I’ve worn is covered in blood streaks”

Magical woman says, “You have very pretty eyes

Is it okay if I look into them for the rest of the night?”

 

PRE-CHORUS 1

“Hold my hand, touch my face

Please take me away from this dark place

Hold me tight, touch my hair

Please help me, I’m scared”

 

CHORUS 1

Who am I kidding? It’s a final fantasy

In the real world, magic women run away from me

It’s a place in my head, got no choice but to stay

Waste my time on limerence, throwing my life away

 

VERSE 2

Lonely bohemian says, “I stole things that aren’t mine

Everyone online made me pay for my crime”

Lonely bohemian says, “I don’t want to be alone

But I’m the only one who was asked to atone”

Lonely bohemian says, “Let me live another day

In case you’re wondering, no, I’m not okay”

Lonely bohemian says, “Can I stay with you tonight?

You’re the only one right now who’s keeping me alive”

 

PRE-CHORUS 2

“Kiss my lips, rub my back

Please protect me from all these attacks

Hold my hand, lay with me

Please don’t let me bleed”

 

CHORUS 2

Snap out of it, son, it’s a final fantasy

Brain ghosts shouldn’t even be asking me

To do emotional labor, save you from the haters

Of all the candies you chose, I’m not your first flavor

 

BRIDGE

I got so much to do, so much to live for

But magical thinking keeps me wanting more

It’s a cycle of addiction no different from crack

Lock myself in my room, don’t know when I’ll be back

 

VERSE 3

Magical woman meets lonely bohemian

Two twin flames, two lovely human beings

Do what you must in your hotel room

Get out of my head and do it fucking soon

Get married, have babies, buy a whole house

Watch a lot of Netflix on your leather couch

My work here is done, now I watch for number one

Ain’t no mystery in this land, it’s all in my hands

Bullet With a Name On It

…I’m not a violent person. I don’t carry a gun with me at all times. The last time I got in a fight was in high school. It was a miserable defeat to a guy who mounted my chest and punched me so many times that I got a black eye, numb cheeks, and chewing difficulties. One of the administrators cracked a terrible joke about how I was a lover and not a fighter. I’d expect that kind of humor in the UFC or WWE, but not at school. But I suppose there was some truth in that joke, because ever since that day, I’ve responded to any amount of stress the same way: freezing like Walt Disney eating a popsicle in the middle of a tundra. Fight and flight are gone. Freezing is all that remains. Staying perfectly still and not being confrontational is supposed to be a survival mechanism. But what am I surviving?

 

While I don’t have a violent life or a criminal history of any kind…I have so many violent thoughts swirling in my head. So many people have taken advantage of my freezing response and said whatever the hell they wanted, like the first amendment was made specifically for assholes. No amethyst colors here, just red, white, and blue. I’ve been fat-shamed, called the R-slur, called a pussy for not joining the military, I’ve had slanderous rumors spread about me, and I’ve been accused of laziness when I didn’t want to get a job and go to school at the same time. These people who abused their first amendment rights…they bear the brunt of these violent thoughts. So...many…violent…thoughts…

 

Punches in bunches. Sprawling and brawling. Knees to the face. Kicks to the balls. Maybe a piledriver if I’m feeling strong that day. Hell, let’s go full UFC and throw in a rear naked chokehold. In my brain I’m undefeated, even against well-trained marines and martial arts blackbelts. I justify these victories by saying, “Whose dick did they have to suck in order to get those accolades?” I’m sure they can explain the bruises on their faces, but how will they explain the bruises on the inside of their mouths to their dentist? Dentists can tell what you’ve been up to in the bedroom. Or under the sensei’s desk, wherever you feel more comfortable.

 

But it’s not just unarmed brawling that I fantasize about. Sometimes I’m armed and dangerous. Sometimes I’ve got a big fucking knife. Sometimes I justify those knife victories by saying, “A blackbelt doesn’t give you puncture-proof skin.” Come to think of it…what is a blackbelt good for anyways? Holding up your pants so that we don’t have to look at your Sailor Moon crotchless panties? That kind of intimate wear would never withstand a few strokes from a big ass knife. And neither would your skin. Just hack, slash, hack, slash, an arm there, a leg there, a throat somewhere else, and a glorious bloodbath that will never make me want to shower ever again.

 

But why is it just melee ranged weapons? Why I can’t I shoot a gun? Surely, it can’t be that hard to shoot a gun. It’s like using America Online: point and click. Maybe I’m oversimplifying complicated technology, but remember, it’s my brain, I’m undefeated. If some bozo driving an obnoxiously large truck drives by me and shouts the F-slur, I’ve got a bullet with his name on it. It’s weird to think about, because in order to have a bullet with somebody’s name on it, I have to know that person’s name. Drive-by loudmouths don’t give you their name or any information about them. That’s a big part of what makes them cowards. Not only do they shout their shit, but they drive away before facing any real consequences. Sure, your truck has a badass engine, but can your truck outrun a bullet? Will a V8 engine matter if there’s a bullet in the gas tank? Will all the horsepower in the world matter if the bullet shatters glass and that glass cuts you up? And what good is driving a truck if the driver gets shot and the vehicle flips on its back? Drive-by loudmouths don’t think about these things in advance. Then again, I wouldn’t call anything they do thinking.

 

Violent fantasies are so much fun to have. I love bathing in blood. I love listening to screams. I love the symphonic melodies of bones snapping and organs sloshing. I love listening to my insulters plead for their lives only to lose them anyways. But it’s important to remember that these are fantasies. They don’t exist outside of my brain. If they did, there would be serious consequences. Seeing this many dead bodies would break so many hearts. I’d have my own broken heart as I sit alone in a prison cell with regret on my mind. That’s what you have to remember as you go through life with an imagination: fantasy and reality are not one in the same. That’s why people caution against porn being unrealistic. Porn isn’t designed to tell a realistic story. It has one purpose: to help masturbators achieve an orgasm by any means necessary. If you can’t separate fantasy from reality, you’re already waiting to get fucked.

 

So go ahead and listen to gangsta rap on repeat. Dream of killing your enemies in cold blood. Drink that cold blood like it’s as refreshing as Coca-Cola. Hell, you can even write about some of these daydreams in your stories if you’re an author of some sort. But that comes with its own set of responsibilities. As authors, everything you put on the paper is held in high esteem. Your readers will take everything you say literally and they’ll apply it to their own way of thinking. That doesn’t mean they’re stupid, but they are impressionable. If you’re being held up as an arbiter of truth and you tell a bunch of violent or sexual lies, that’s going to have a bad influence on your readers. Think of all the BDSM rookies who wound up in the hospital after reading Fifty Shades of Grey. Think of all the women who will get pregnant because of birth control misinformation in The Missus, which is written by the same author. You can have your bloody fantasies on paper, but don’t lead your audience astray.

 

If you’re watching Quentin Tarantino movies, don’t duct tape your enemy to a chair and cut his ear off while dancing to 70’s music. If you’re watching WWE television from the 2000’s, don’t simulate sex with a corpse as a way of insulting someone who wronged you. If you’re watching Mind of Mencia and I hope to god you’re not, don’t throw racial slurs haphazardly and then later wonder why you’re being “canceled”. And by the way, cancel culture isn’t real. If you write a shitty story chock full of irresponsible violence and rape, your audience has the right to react in a negative way, because criticism isn’t censorship. Criticism is the other half of free speech.

 

If you must have violent fantasies, reign them in. Don’t unleash them out into the real world. If you’re a peaceful guy in real life, but you have violent fantasies, don’t let anybody judge you for it. Truth is, everybody thinks about violence at least once in their life. At least once, don’t let them lie to you. Nobody’s this candid about their violent fantasies, but we all have them. Some are more mild than others, but they still exist. It’s a normal part of the human experience. Thinking about something is a healthy way to process it. Thinking is the best way to travel. Doing these things in real life will cause so much heartache, for you and your victims. And for the love of god…don’t join the military just because you happen to be good at playing Halo.

Shock Value Village

VERSE 1

I got my devil horns for only ninety-nine cents

Going to hang some dildos from the white picket fence

And some fetal dolls from the cherry blossom tree

Your shock is priceless, but I got it for free

Got some flammable bibles, two for the price of one

Got a crucifix thong tucked between my buns

Got a whole bookshelf of the shit I can’t read

When you stab a book banner, a fascist bleeds

 

CHORUS 1

Shock Value Village

Raid, rape, and pillage

Shock Value Village

You’ve got the devil to thank

For not breaking the bank

 

VERSE 2

Ronda Santis has some cloves of garlic

He got them from Wal-Mart, ‘cause he’s banned from Target

He’s got a buckle on his hat and some buckles on his shoes

And some holy water boiling on the teapot brew

That shit doesn’t work, so we all point and laugh

The rumbling in our bellies measures on a seismic graph

The crusade was over before it ever began

He died on the hill of a few pointless bans

 

CHORUS 2

Shock Value Village

Raid, rape, and pillage

Shock Value Village

It won’t cost a fortune

So enjoy your abortion

 

BRIDGE

The youth of tomorrow don’t want to hear your sorrows

The churches are empty, you got nothing to envy

You promised paradise, you forgot to ask nice

Check it out for us, you’re the table sacrifice

 

CHORUS 3

Shock Value Village

Raid, rape, and pillage

Shock Value Village

Dollar store prices

For your favorite vices

Shock Value Village

Raid, rape, and pillage

Shock Value Village

Traditions left behind

For a stack of thin dimes

Theocracy be damned

You lost all your fans

Lay Down and Die

VERSE 1

You’re having a book barbecue

I’m burning the red, white, and blue

We are not the same

Mental chess is my only game

You play checkers like an amateur, dude

 

CHORUS

The things you’re fighting for

Should be kicked out the door

Don’t want to hear you cry

Just lay down and die

Keep on rolling

Rolling

Eat some humble pie

Just lay down and die

 

VERSE 2

You’re killing the chicks who won’t date you

No wonder the whole world hates you

Spit out the black pill

Don’t call the pharmacy for a refill

And pray your next victim escapes you

 

CHORUS

The things you’re fighting for

Should be kicked out the door

Don’t want to hear you cry

Just lay down and die

Keep on rolling

Rolling

Eat some humble pie

Just lay down and die

 

BRIDGE

You want to rule the world and fuck all of the girls

Can’t abide by your lies, give them the toilet swirl

You want to burn the books like a badass cook

Can’t let you, I detest you, you’re the real crook

You want to jail me because I made you see

You’re not the king of everything, you too can bleed

You want Armageddon, bar us all from heaven

Buckle up, buttercup, crash your seven-forty-seven

You sacrificed it all

Just to drop the ball

 

CHORUS

The things you’re fighting for

Should be kicked out the door

Don’t want to hear you cry

Just lay down and die

Keep on rolling

Rolling

Eat some humble pie

Just lay down and die

Mosquitos

You’re buzzing all around me like a mosquito

Feasting on flesh like a microwave burrito

Puking your poison over everything I love

Amythest colors drowned in shit from above

Every insult against me is a secret confession

Yet you yak your ass off like it’s your profession

If you buzz and bite for a long enough time

You buy space in my head for pennies on the dime

Just when I’m ready to stare into the void

Here come more mosquitos to keep me annoyed

There’s not enough bug spray on the planet

To make the army of bastards suddenly vanish

There’s not enough fire to match all my anger

To turn this epic war into an apocalyptic banger

I sleep for the night, no buzzing in my dreams

Then I awaken to see them swarming in teams

Being fucked up in the head is a lifelong job

No vacation days, those are only for slobs

No lunch breaks when I want to eat the rich

No free healthcare, pay for every single stitch

If fighting mental mosquitos is a real vocation

I’m the regional manager of every location

I ain’t the CEO, because I have no control

I ain’t the president, just look at the poll

I’d ask for my flowers, but the bugs like plants

Just keep kicking my ass, I’ll drop my pants

They don’t call it an insect infestation

They call it schizophrenia and call me a patient

Rainbow Ranch, Chapter 4

Loki the Skull’s jowls continued to flap in the icy wind as equally cold words poured from his mouth like hemlock into a glass of wine. He thanked Lucy and her crew for leading him to Ozzie’s cave. He rambled and ranted and raved about animals being too lazy to exact their own revenge against their abandoners. And then he seamlessly transitioned into a nonsensical allegory about icy bridges leading to hell. And he rambled some more until his verbiage became cacophonic word salad. The overuse of magic truly made King Harrison insane, which would explain his obsession with getting revenge for his animals.

 

Lucy would have shed sympathetic tears for the Kafkaesque descent if it wasn’t for the fact that Loki rocked her hammer back and forth like a hypnotic pocket watch. Watching this former king mentally drift away into outer space meant nothing in comparison to the deflated tennis ball that once brought Lucy joy. Her fangs didn’t have much in the way of sharpness, but they clamped down with the utmost tightness at this display of hubris. Lucy’s doggy hairs stood up and prickled against her metal armor. Her tail wagged uncomfortably fast. Her murder victim growls grew deeper with rage the longer this was allowed to go on. And then…

 

“GIVE! IT! BACK!” Lucy launched her tiny body despite protests from Callie and Ozzie. Surely, a lightning bolt or fire bomb was waiting for her at the end of the trajectory. It never came, just Loki ducking out of the way and keeping the hammer to himself. Lucy yipped and yapped as she bounced up and down in an attempt to grab her weapon. Loki always kept it out of reach, sometimes by only a tiny tap. The fact that he could have ended this anytime he wanted to and chose not to brought even more venom out of Lucy’s bitter barks.

 

After what must have been the seventh or eighth attempt to grab the hammer, Loki aimed his paw and finally launched a fire attack…but not against Lucy. A nearby record player that once made Ozzie’s eyes milky with nostalgia had instantly transformed into a pile of black dust, along with whatever piece of licorice pizza Callie attempted to play.

 

Lucy didn’t take time to register the deeper meaning of such destruction and continued to jump after her hammer, which was still hanging over her head like the tennis ball she once loved. She didn’t even pay much mind to Callie shouting, “Okay, that’s it!” and pulling out her golden dagger. Lucy didn’t care if neither of them stood a chance at beating this cackling, jabbering sorcerer. She just wanted her hammer back, the last symbol of what life was all about for her.

 

And then Callie stuck the knife where the sun never dared to shine. Not in Loki’s fuzzy butt, Lucy’s instead. She yipped in pain and jumped even higher than before, which gave her enough height to finally grab her hammer. Loki still held on and the two of them played tug-o’-war over it, all while the sorcerer shot a lightning ball into Callie’s chest and knocked her backwards, almost unconscious.

 

“That wasn’t very nice! GIVE IT BACK!” Lucy screamed, suddenly gaining more strength upon seeing her friend get zapped. It wasn’t enough strength to earn her a tug-o’-war victory as Loki pulled harder himself. The yanks from both sides disturbed their equilibrium and they nearly fell out of the cave together. Lucy would have rolled back down the mountain covered in snow if not for one small mistake on Loki’s part.

 

“Harrison!” said Ozzie in a husky old man voice. Loki’s mistake was awakening the memories in the old cat’s brain. He gazed at Loki with piercing eyes and trembling whiskers, energy forming in his paws at the risk of refrying his brain. “It ends with you!” Ozzie used whatever mana was left in his rotted brain to throw a tiny whirlwind at the tug-o-war scene. He then collapsed face first onto the cold icy ground.

 

Loki let out an arrogant, “Ha!”, as if that was the best the old man could do. But that little spark of wind gave Lucy momentum. Sure, Loki wouldn’t let go, but he didn’t have to. Lucy wasn’t pulling the hammer towards herself. She was pulling it to the side. The little gust along with Lucy’s heroic rage caused her to spin little by little, until she herself was a whirlwind of chaos. She spun Loki around and around while picking up steam, never once letting go of her weapon.

 

Lucy paid no mind to her own rotting brain, she kept spinning Loki around anyways. The sorcerer’s face grew bright green and his eyes watered. His jowls puffed up bigger and bigger and his stomach growled like the tough guy wolf he was trying to be. Spinning, spinning, and spinning until Loki’s fingers slipped further and further down the shaft of the hammer. One tiny slide later and Lucy was reunited with her precious hammer. She plopped backwards into the snow with her vision blurring in and out of focus and her tummy aching like she was about to lose her life in addition to her lunch.

 

Loki fared no better when it came to aching stomachs. His jowls continued to expand as he clutched his midsection and doubled over. He did everything in his power to keep it together. The salt water collecting in his eyes was a souvenir of his last ditch efforts. And then…”BLAAAAAAAAAAH!” Loki puked a bubbling stream of green and gray acid onto the snow.

 

Lucy couldn’t tell if the rising steam was from the vile stench or if spirits were magically floating out of the excess juices. Maybe it was both. She squinted her eyes as hard as she could to relieve them of rapidly freezing tears. She laid there trying to keep her own lunch under control, as every part of her body ached badly enough to want to vomit herself inside out. But the acidic spray never came. Her stomach calmed down long enough for her to drift off into darkness.

 

She didn’t spend too long in the black abyss. The wetness and comfort of a dog’s tongue kissed her furry flesh. If she was a kitty, she would purr at this loving sensation. She did however slowly open her red and puffy eyes to see Loki reviving her with gentle licks. Except this wasn’t the sorcerer she was fighting against this whole time. This was the original Loki, who stood on all fours and never once threw a magical spell. Instead he was just a sweet, tender dog who wanted Lucy to love him as much as he loved everybody, the way a dog should be.

 

“Loki-Pokey!” Lucy squealed before hugging him around the neck and getting a few puppy licks in herself. The labrador snuggled up beside the snow-bitten Lucy and snuggled with her for warmth. “Hey…is that?” She finally put two and two together: Loki threw up King Harrison’s ghost and was no longer possessed by the insane sorcerer. She could smell the chunks of lightning-fried flesh in the puddles of vomit. “It all makes sense now! Yay! We did it, Loki-Pokey! Ozzie and Callie are going to be so proud of us! Hey…wait a minute…”

 

She nipped up and rushed towards Ozzie’s cave, Loki trotting right behind her. Sure enough, Callie and Ozzie were right there face down on the floor, not one movement or sign of life between them. Lucy began to shiver with sadness. “No…no, no, no, no, no!” The two dogs rushed over to the cats’ prone bodies and began furiously licking them. Not even a dog’s loving tongue could revive the old coots. Lucy shook some more as she gazed to the ceiling and howled. Loki howled alongside her and the two of them became a chorus of sorrow at their fallen friends. They sacrificed their lives just so Lucy could have her stupid hammer. They gave so much of their energy to a toxic king that wouldn’t reciprocate.

 

“Ouch! My ears! Will you two stop your cotton-pickin’ yelling!” Callie blurted out. She snapped wide awake while Ozzie took his sweet time in coming around.

 

Lucy, having no sense of boundaries, hugged them both around the neck and shrieked, “You’re alive! You’re alive! Oh, I missed you two so much!” She and Loki continued to lick their feline faces. Callie folded her arms in defeat while Ozzie chuckled and petted Loki’s head. The gang was back together and Rainbow Ranch could finally heal. They could laugh, play, eat sausage, get pettings and love, all the things that animals had at the top of their wish lists. Revenge wasn’t just on the bottom, but it never even made the cut. That was until…

 

“Fools! You’ll never get rid of me that easily!” King Harrison may have been exorcised from Loki’s body, but his poisonous green ghost still hung in the air. He shouted a bunch of mindless gibberish. He summoned energy in his clawed hands. He scratched himself until black pudding oozed from within. It was then that it dawned on Lucy that she forgot her hammer outside. She, Loki, Ozzie, and Callie all snuggled against each other knowing exactly what was coming to them. They hoped their deaths would be swift and merciful. They gave all they could to this fight only for King Harrison’s ghost to hang around.

 

“I love you guys. I love you all…” mumbled Lucy as she squinted her eyes in defeat.

VD at the Dentist's Office

I cross the icy bridge to the dentist’s office

Reach my destination, but find no solace

It’s Valentine’s Day, VD for short

A celebration of romance and genital warts

The perfect day to stick a drill in my mouth

Infected gums, not infected down south

Floss makes me bleed like a broken heart

Like two lovers, my teeth are torn apart

Rince and spit like a fellatio

Lovey-dovey muzak on the radio

Spinning polisher tickles my gums

I scream, but I get the help of no one

“Please be quiet while I’m working on you”

Okay, Britt Baker, tap me out too

Any cavities today or just a hole in my soul?

Just a toothbrush and floss, you’re the boss

I’ll eat my feelings at my local Burger King

Spend money on burgers, not a wedding ring

A pretty smile doesn’t mean a damn thing

I never do it anyways, got nothing nice to sing

At least my dental work isn’t ruined by mono

Sour grapes is my meal, report it like gonzo

News of my heartache broadcast in a frown

Lay alone in bed and put on some “Lonesome Town”

I survived another god forsaken VD

It’s nothing like the shit in movies and TV

I’ll undo my brainwashing somehow, someway

And VD will just be an ordinary day

Every Little Thing I Do Is Funny

(In the style of “Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic” by The Police)

 

VERSE 1

I stood up in front of the class

Gave a presentation so I could pass

From the very first word

Laughter’s all I ever heard

In mass

 

CHORUS

Every little thing I do is funny

Everything I do just cracks them up

Even the professor’s spitting coffee

From his “Number One Teacher” cup

 

VERSE 2

I pulled out a Snickers bar

Because the time for lunch was just too far

Got a big enough belly

One that wiggles like it’s jelly

Har-dee-har!

 

CHORUS

Every little thing I do is funny

Everything I do just cracks them up

Even the professor’s spitting coffee

From his “Number One Teacher” cup

 

BRIDGE

I called them a bunch of names

Stormed out of the room in shame

I’d walk back to my dorm room

To be all doom and gloom

Everyone tried to assure me

They weren’t punching down with glee

They just think my voice is lovely

It’s a low-pitch melody

 

CHORUS

Every little thing I do is funny

Everything I do just cracks them up

Even the professor’s spitting coffee

From his “Number One Teacher” cup

The Gunman Is Always Right

VERSE 1

A dangerous resolution, it’s just an illusion

The gunman won’t agree to a peaceful solution

Bullets equal power and might makes right

Rifle’s locked and loaded, don’t put up a fight

 

CHORUS 1

He said, “I got the gun

I got the ropes

I’m always right”

 

VERSE 2

His newfound hostages are now his disciples

He’s got a god complex, he’ll be in charge for a while

He makes them sing hymns through their tape gags

Acolytes burning candles for the guy with clips and mags

He could write a bible with the blood of his rivals

That he nailed to a cross in a Jesus Christ style

He could go anywhere and make it his church

Hellfire and gun powder will equally burn

 

CHORUS 1

He said, “I got the gun

I got the ropes

I’m always right”

 

VERSE 3

His rifle has jammed, it refuses to click

So the brainwashed flock kick him in the dick

Punch him in the face until it’s blood he tastes

It ain’t the blood of Christ, it’s dripping with haste

Kick him in the ribs until every bone splits

Kick him in the ass, he’s got never-ending shits

The power dynamic is once again balanced

It’s only fair that the victims get their share

 

CHORUS 2

They said, “You ain’t our god

You’re just a fraud

We’re always right”

They said, “You’re off to jail

The sirens wail

We’re always right”