Glaaaagghffhgfhg

Posted in Uncategorized on January 17, 2017 by robertselander

I just threw up a little in my mouth. It was burny bitter, as most mouth throw up is. The stomach acids also burnt the back of my throat just a hair. Oh no, now I am farting. There it goes. It was a hot one too. Hot farts and mouth barfs. I am like the Yellowstone Park of bodily functions right now. All I need is for diarhea to shoot out of my butt at the stroke of midnight and all will be complete. Completely Butt burny. Burny in my butt. Ass warmth. Taint heat. Gas oven.

That’s all I have to write about. Can you beleive it? Who would want to read this mush? I’m not even going to ever look back at this piece for any reason at all. Other than to remember that I had a big dinner and a bean filled lunch one day of my life.

I feel like the giant chunk of fat that floats around aimlessly in a can of pork and beans. Just lost and disgusting. A lost and disgusting fat chunk on a meaningless voyage to the ends of some lard ass’s lower intestine and later out his butt.

I feel groggy too. Butt groggy and unmotivated. Also, that hot fart stinks. I am surrounded by a low lying ass fog. I am breathing in my own butt particles. Is that recycling? I don’t care.

Piccolo Surprise

Posted in Uncategorized on December 21, 2016 by robertselander

I sat in the basement weaving my indian blankets when a small man popped his head up from the hatch that led to the deeper under basement. Slowly his head, then shoulders emerged as if rising from an elevator. He wore a beat up straw hat and had a corn cob pipe sticking out of his mouth. As he rose he whistled some sort of sea shanty.  I was delighted! Was this a show about to begin? I was certainly staying to find out. Quickly I wrapped myself in my woven and un-woven horse yarns and positioned myself for amazement.

Boy was I in for a surprise! For as soon as the little man’s sea shanty whistle tune had ended, a tiny piccolo extended itself from the man’s left nostril until it was positioned with the mouth piece just covered by his nostril. His hand rose from below and he began to play. Oh what fun! But wait, this wasn’t a solo performance. For now another piccolo was extending from his right nostril as he continued playing. Fantasy! A duet never before seen was happening right before my eyes. How this man played such a jaunty tune in two parts with one nose and two hands is beyond my comprehension but I am grateful to have seen it in my looming basement.

Soon the song began to take a turn though. What started as a jaunty, bouncy tune, slowly turned tragic. The turn was surprising, but fit fine as I continued my suspension of disbelief, deeply feeling every note tooted from the man’s nose. Then as the song began to crescendo my eyes began to weep. So did the man’s. We were both crying. The beauty of this double nose piccolo masterpiece was enough to rip our hearts asunder.

And then the song was done. The man’s piccolos slowly and in unison retracted back into his nostrils. We took as second to both wipe our tears. Then the man slowly lowered back into his hatch. We didn’t wave goodbye to each other, but only shared a knowing stare. Knowing that I would never again be so moved or inspired, and that he had used his magical talents to enthrall an unsuspecting basement weaver. That night after having such an earth shattering moment, I wrote what would soon become the movie, “Independence Day” or ID4 as many would call it. And I never saw that man again. God bless him.

Space

Posted in Uncategorized on December 16, 2016 by robertselander

Space. We begin by traveling through a ballet of cosmic anomaly. Meteors kriss cross through the vast emptiness. As we travel they pass us in almost every direction, sometimes far, sometimes so close they surprise you as they enter your peripheral vision. A nebula apears off in the distance. Within seconds, we are inside realizing that we are traveling inhumanly fast. Through the giant cloud we see stars coliding, exploding and then colapsing on themselves. These new compact forms create a black holes, sucking in surrounding gasses and matter as we travel through.

Space is clear again, but only for a split second. Suddenly from behind we are blinded by a barrage of lasers and soon after dozens of space crafts fill our view from behind. We are now in the midst of a full blown star battle. Ships collide and esplode. Others are blown to pieces by their enemy. An alien body thrown from an explosion floats past us within feet. Because of our speed, we only see it for a second. But that is long enough make out the toll that the vacuum of space has wreaped upon the alien body from no longer having air and a pressurized environment to protect it. Just as the body passes we realize that we are within view of the mother ship. It explodes in a giant fireball in all directions. As we fly directly though it, we can feel the rumble of the flames and shrapnel passing us by.

Once again we are in open space. However off in the distance we see a small red flashing light. We are headed towards it rapidly. As it grows larger we can see that it is a space station.  The details of the habitat soon begin to form as a herd of odd manta ray like space life herd across our view. Then from the opposite direction a humanoid robot with some sort of sparking malfunction zooms across. We hear a robot squeel as it passes.

The space station is very close now and we can see a rapidly approaching view window with an observer looking outwards. We come to just outside the observers window from which he is staring, bored. He is a crew member for this station. He wears a blue jumpsuit with a stripe down the side. While he is clean cut, his hair is uncombed and he has a three earth day stubble.

Man at the window, “Fuck this place.”

Check

Posted in Uncategorized on December 15, 2016 by robertselander

Seat belts. Check.

Hatch secure. Check.

Fuel supply. Check.

Gravity booster. Check.

Gravity de-booster. Check.

Waste drainage. Check.

Retro-rocket test. Check.

Stabilizers. Check.

Secondary stabilizers. Check.

Sleeping bags. Check.

Oxygen supply. Check.

Ground control. Check.

Remote control. Check.

Wifi password. Check.

French press coffees. Check.

Dance leotards. Check.

Yoga mats. Check.

Deep feelings… Check.

First aid kit. Check.

Second aid kit. Check.

Kool aid kit. Check.

Wilson Phillips Albums. Check.

Lillith Faire passes. Check.

From 1998? Check.

 

Food rations. Check.

Spoons. Check

Forks. Check.

Sporks. Check.

Gambling visors. Check.

Old timey arm band. Check.

Cigars. Check.

Cigarettes. Check.

Blunts. Check.

Eye drops and febreeze so our Moms don’t find out. Check.

Wintergreen mints. Check.

Then we are go for launch in

10

9

8

7

6

5

4

3

2

1

Splooge.

A Present

Posted in Whispy Whisps on December 14, 2016 by robertselander

Spray tan from a spray can,

Hair bleach and botox,

My abs are the hardest,

Attracting women in flocks

 

My wig is the finest,

Made from the hair of a model,

Golden locks set in curls,

Smells of cologne from a bottle

 

Why is it so small?

Well it’s not for my head,

I use model hair to wow,

the ladies in bed

 

You see,

 

Despite my good looks,

And my piles of money

I have no pubic hair,

And I’m not being funny

 

It just never grew,

On my bald baby dick,

So to get ladies in bed,

I must use this pube trick

 

I lure them in,

With dazzle and flash,

Then the wig does the rest,

Though it leaves a mean rash

 

I glue it all down,

But it always gets sticky,

That’s why my closet is full,

Of wigs for my pricky

 

And now you know,

My secret success,

And to you my son,

I pass this collection I possess

 

For you will soon know,

The same plight as I,

But dry up your tears,

There’s no need to cry

 

You have pube wigs a plenty!

You’re a  king like no other,

Oh hey look! That’s the one,

I used with your Mother

 

Don’t worry I washed it,

And it’s yours now,

My bald little boy,

Go make your Dad proud.

 

 

 

 

The Herba-Light

Posted in Uncategorized on December 13, 2016 by robertselander

Mel Torme once said, “If you’ve got a rat in the room, suck that rat’s dick dry.” He never said that, and right now I actually can’t remember who Mel Torme was, or if he is actually still alive. Hold on as I check the boundless reaches of my pocket computer… Ah-ha! He was a jazz musician! so maybe he could have said that. Anyone also referred to at “The Velvet Fog” surely got away with saying tons of things, not limited to sucking on rat dicks.

Now what I have really gathered you here at this burning garbage can was not to make up quotes from people whose name I only vaguely remember, but to tell you of the health benefits of Herbalife. You see, I am an easily swayed health enthusiast who enjoys personal validation through the mass consumption of cheaply made flavored protein powders. What kind of powders you ask? Why there’s a big sack of Herbalife bullshit for nearly any taste or occasion!

Breakfast, brunch, lunch, and dinner! Want a smoothie? Who doesn’t?! Just mix up some Herba-smooth mix with your freshest tap water and you’ll have a pint of health mud in seconds. And don’t worry about the chalk flavor, or the fact that your body doesn’t want to ingest it. You’re going to be selling it to your friends, slowly alienating them as they realize that being in a pyramid scheme slowly outweighs your friendship anyway, so who cares? Want a bite of a healthy sandwich? Shut up, stupid! Just mix some mix up a flavorful herba-wich and drink your sandwich down. Mmm-mmm! Tuna and mustard never went down so smooth.

Now my fellow trash barrel brethren, you might be thinking, “But I like to chew my food. Also, I hate to exercise incessantly. And my friendships are way two important to introduce sales… blah, blah, blah.” Am I right? Well check this out… you’re wrong!

Everything you are and do is wrong! Are you happy right now? No you aren’t! Because how much happier COULD you be if only you exercised enough to make all your clothes spandex? How happy COULD you be if you replaced all your food with powders made out of old beans and smarties candy? Your idea of what happiness is, could be expanded times a MILLION by Herbalife! That makes what you think of contentment now actually a living hell! You can’t even comprehend it, can you?

Well let me show you by example. I’ve become so happy and healthy from Herbalife, that I’ve decided right here and now to ascend from this mortal purgatory into Herba-Heaven. A spandex filled Eden where protein powder flows like the Mississippi, and all are welcome for a buy in fee that is directed through me, that I split with my Herb-Lord who let me in. He then splits off a percentage with his Herb-Lord and, well you get the picture.

I will now ascend! But before I go, be sure to sign up. I have contracts over there on the hood of my Prius. Goodbye!

(He then shoved his own foot down his throat, choking to death)

 

Old Wizard Toe

Posted in Uncategorized on December 12, 2016 by robertselander

This evening I ground most of my malformed big left toenail off with a dremel tool. Not because I’m a sadist or into low level body modification, but because of something that happened in 2010. One cool summer evening that year I was performing at a kid’s 21st birthday party in San Bernardino. We were playing in a not quite finished garage at the birthday boys parent’s house. He had “cool” parents who let a bunch of minors come over to get drunk, have a punk rock show and hopefully not drown in their very nice and well lit pool. While we were doing our show, someone with large, heavy boots landed right on my big left toe. It didn’t hurt too much at the time of impact, but I think I was just pumped up full of adrenaline to care. When I got home after the show, my toe had soaked red though my sock. When I took it off, it wasn’t black yet but I knew this guy was going to come off.

Well, I was wrong. Over the next two weeks, the toenail turned black but never came off at all! What happened instead was kind of weirder. A new and malformed toenail had started to grow on the same toe, pushing the old one out of its home. Slowly over the next month the old nail was displaced into the cold, while the new guy had claimed his new castle. But this new toenail was twisted, weird, and thick . It was like a gnarled, slightly flattened tree branch growing out of my foot. But I didn’t really care so I let it go for almost a year.

Around the end of that year, I noticed that my new sinister toenail had grown into a oaken stump of nail materials rooted into the base of my toe’s nail bed. It was like the Richard the 3rd of toenails. I touched brown, tree ringed mass and it was brittle. Gross. But my interest had been peaked. So I started picking at the nail and it started chipping it away. Within two days of intermittently picking at the monstrosity, it fell off. I don’t even know why. I thought it was still growing! I was confused and thoroughly convinced that I was going to live my life without any protection over my left toe.

But then something magical happened. Another new toenail began to grow in it’s place! This one was also gnarled but not in the same sinister way the last one was. This toenail was more like an old wizard who had spent the last three hundred years in some enchanted woods, growing gnarled and withered from living with squirrels and talking to trees. And once again I lived with this abstract toenail protecting my foot and things were good. That was until last week.

Finally, my wizard toenail began to fail me and started to grind against the flesh of my foot. This was also a foot that I had broken twice doing comedy and hadn’t ever gone to the doctor. It was all bent out of shape, with an odd wart scar, with this elderly toenail. It looked like the foot of a seventy five year old troll instead of a thirty five year old idiot. I had to do something. That’s when I decided to get out the dremel and give my toe wizard a shave. And that’s what I did. I ground it with a sanding bit until it started to chip away.

After making a small pile of toe dust and nail chips I was finally left with a small nub of a toenail. I polished it with another dremel bit to feel fancy. It still looks like a troll foot though. That’s a gross story that no one should ever document in words. But I did it! I’m sorry you read this. End!

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