A Love Letter to Advil

As a loud and proud member of Generation Y

I’ve got pain in my back and tears in my eyes

There’s a war going on in the base of my spine

Flamethrower marines screaming, “Your ass is mine!”

Battle axe barbarians chopping down the tree

Razor claw demons going on a killing spree

Can’t wait for the bone-cracker to fix me up

I need instant healing before I fucking erupt

They call it Advil, I call it magic in tablets

For when I can’t move without yelling, “Damn it!”

A bottle of water cold enough to freeze hell

Swallow the pills and the pain takes the L

Why go cold turkey when it feels so good?

It’s not like I’m floating through the neighborhood

It’s not like I’m a space cadet calling Major Tom

Or drunkenly fucking on Porn Hub dot com

Doesn’t have the same energy as cooking crack

Booger sugar wouldn’t do shit for my back

Don’t have a meth lab on the bottom floor

Not making poison pills out of a nuclear core

The magic medicine works, I’m off to bed

Maybe one day it’ll unfuck my head

I wrote a love letter to Advil liquid gels

More like a commercial with intent to sell

A drug deal without the DEA

Just a fucking parade from the FDA

Clown Music

CLOWN MUSIC
A ball on my nose, a smile on my face
Big red shoes stepping all over the place
Bright green overalls to complete the look
Comedy routines from a high school joke book
Who’s ready to laugh? Who’s ready to dance?
Who’s ready to wet their own underpants?
I’m throwing the pies, riding one-wheel bikes
We can party and giggle for as long as we’d like

COMING HOME
It’s getting pretty dark around the trailer park
Wipe off the makeup, frown the shape of an arc
A bottle of jack and some pills for my back
A pizza for dinner, another heart attack
Another episode of Wheel of Fortune
Another news story about the ban of abortion
Fall asleep on the couch, cancer stick in my mouth
I’ve got no rhyme or reason to be fucking proud

BACK TO WORK
Sunbeam aggravates my pounding headache
Still laying on the couch like I’m dead weight
Can’t put on another smile for the little brats
Can’t put on the overalls, I’m too damn fat
Can’t let them know that my magic is gone
No more faking happiness, no more being strong
Where did I put that damn nine millimeter?
I don’t care if you call me a coward or cheater

BANG!
Suicide attempt didn’t go as it was planned
But I’m still walking amongst the damned
Extra hole in my head, brain dead as can be
Little kids cry as they take a look at me
Mommies holding them, daddies glaring
The love is there, but nobody’s sharing
I am a monster in the eyes of the young
No cracking jokes, no birthday songs sung

Ozzy

***OZZY***

As someone who was born in the mid-1980’s, I’m chronologically predisposed to sharing details of my life on the internet, especially if they’re going to have even the slightest impact on my creative activities. I don’t expect that this incident will, but it is something to think about for all the times I’ve been too exhausted to work.

Our gray and white kitty Ozzy has a nasty abscess on the side of his face and yesterday it burst open and sprayed blood all over Mom and Dale’s sheets. We don’t know how he got this gash, but we suspect he’s been in a fight with another animal. He loves to go on little adventures outside for long periods of time, so it was bound to happen sooner or later. Mom and Dale are currently vacationing in New Mexico and won’t be back until Thursday night, so it was up to me and James to take care of Ozzy-Pie.

We had the elderly cutie-kitty taken to a 24-hour emergency animal hospital in Silverdale. He cried the entire drive over and we couldn’t blame him. Going to the hospital is no fun for an animal, especially if draining abscesses is on the agenda. The good news is, the doctors were able to clear it out and disinfect it without much incident. The rest is up to me and James.

Ozzy will have to have his wound wiped out regularly, he’ll have to take antibiotic pills covered in Spam, and he’ll have to have liquid painkillers injected into his mouth. So far, so good. He likes the Spam and wasn’t too resistant to the pills or the water that had to be injected afterwards. I haven’t given him his painkillers yet, but I trust that’ll go smoothly too. The treatment will last for a whole week, but I think we’re going to make him a permanent indoor kitty from now on, lest he gets attacked again.

Being a good animal parent to Ozzy and the rest of our fur babies is more important to me right now than getting creative work done. I was frantic the whole time I was preparing to give him his medicine, because I thought it was going to be harder than it needed to be. Turns out it was painless. Just seven more days and he’ll have to go back to the vet for a follow-up. I can do this. Ozzy will get better. I know he will!

If you want to leave your well wishes for our elderly kitty baby, you can do so in the comments section. Even though he’s not capable of checking internet posts, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. I’m Garrison Kelly! Even when you feel like dying, keep climbing the mountain!

Alcohol of Fame

VERSE 1

How could you do this to yourself?

How could you endanger your health?

How could you put them through hell?

Is it too late to ask for fucking help?

CHORUS 1

Alcohol of fame

Your career’s going up in flames

Alcohol of fame

You’ve only got yourself to blame

VERSE 2

Snort a little cocaine, shoot some heroin

Chugging Oxycontin and good old Vicodin

Popping Viagra while committing mortal sins

The pressure brings you to your dirty shins

CHORUS 2

Alcohol of fame

Your excuses are so damn lame

Alcohol of fame

You make zombies look so tame

VERSE 3

Everything of yours is going down the tubes

You’re fucking yourself with bloody lube

You’re smashing up your own hotel room

Wake the fuck up or meet your own doom

CHORUS 3

Alcohol of fame

Your pathetic stories sound the same

Alcohol of fame

Watch it all go down the drain

Yeah!

Alcohol of fame

Psycho visions swirling in your brain

Alcohol of fame

Watch you dying in the coldest rain

FINAL VERSE

It’s never too late to turn back the clock

And drag your sorry ass back to the top

Admitting you’re wrong is the first step

Lying to yourself is the bridge to death

You can be clean and start over again

Or you can be the author of your life’s end

Make a decision, don’t think too hard

The road to recovery is no holds barred