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Snakepit-For-Brains

By

Jesse Alvarez

Did you know that cars are way bigger and stronger than bikes and it's pretty dangerous to ride a bike in traffic? Seriously, be careful out there guys. It's dangerous. It's like a 4th grader trying to eat lunch with the 8th graders.

But seriously folks, here are some things you should dream about:

1. Being given a spoon and a bottle of chocolate syrup and having to eat your way out of a Maximum Security Ice Cream prison. 2. Your shadow whispering in your ear how weird it feels when you stand outside in the heavy snow 3. Skydiving from a plane that is sitting dormant in a hangar Whatever the next number is. Pills that make you better

We'll get back to that later. But in the meantime how about this update from our weatherman Phillip J. Carmichael. Phil?

Thanks Kent. Looks like we've got a 90% Chance of

Despair

AND ANGUISH
Kent? Thanks Phil. Now allow me to read off all of the nasty ways in which people in the area were killed. Alright here we go Scott Pellegrino died tonight after his bedroom window committed suicide(Blew Itself To Smithereens) from Blind Covered loneliness, and he caught shards of glass in the neck.

Frank Harrison passed on after crying so much that he drowned in tears

Sarah Maddox was making her hubby din din went the chicken magically jumped up, held her down, chopped her head off, then stuffed her with breadcrumbs

Tasha Preston found a wood box with some crazy ass markings on it and of course tried to open that shit up. LOL don't you know not to fuck with that Tasha? Cmon now. Course she got fucked up by demons and all that shit. Duh.

Sylvester Quick died from having too cool a name

Drake Webster was walking home from work(can't afford car payments) tonight and was coaxed into a cemetery by a frantic man. Apprehensive at first, he declined. But after some fairly pathetic pleading by the man for nondescript "Help" he finally decided to follow the man in. Right by a grave stone, Drake encountered a woman laid on her back, legs up in the air, screaming her head off in pain. He realized, "wow, this woman's giving birth!" Now Drake, a lowly cashier at a clothing store, had only knowledge of delivering babies that he'd seen on television programs and the like. So he didn't quite know exactly how he could be of any service. But the man insisted that Drake was the first person he'd seen pass by in the last hour or so and may have been the couple's only hope. So Drake just tried to keep the woman calm, assure her everything would be alright, even if he didn't really believe so himself. But he thought, "reassuring her couldn't hurt, I mean for fuck's sake already, the lady's havin' a baby in a damn deserted cemetery, at night! Wait a second. Why are they in this cemetery if the woman is close to delivering" But as soon as he'd contemplated the oddness of that situation, the man said "He's crowning! He's crowning!" and Drake said "Well, I guess it's time for you to push". So the woman pushed a few good times, and after about 5 minutes of pushing, she had delivered a beautiful baby boy. Now, since this BIRTH, took place in a CEMETERY, God's wires got a little crossed up, and thought someone had to die. Why? We'll never know I suppose. He moves

in Mysterious Ways. But just about the moment the baby's cries became fully audible, Drake felt a sharp pain in his chest, and fell to the ground. The last thing he saw was the clear night sky, and a tall headstone looming over him as he faded to blackness.

Dan Campbell choked on a double cheeseburger.

Alright that does it for us here on the News. Have a good night folks. Sleep tight!

I haven't turned on my master bedroom bathroom faucet in probably a month. If I did, it would instantly clog from hair in the sink being washed down the drain. This is a little embarrassing. You can tell me something embarrassing about yourself now, if you wish. Go ahead, say it to the screen. I can see you. Don't worry if you're naked, I'm not aroused. I'm asexual, so it's aight. I respect your need to feel free. No wait, don't get all offended. If you disparage me my mother will send you a strongly worded .wav file. It will probably just be the Jay-Z song "Public Service Announcement". I dunno, she just loves that song. She's a cool mom. I love her. Maybe that will make you love me again.

ONE TIME SHE GOT ME A CHRISTMAS GIFT. IT WAS AN iPAD


It was not very comfortable to sit on at the ballgame. Also it broke. I didn't know I was supposed to enjoy surfing the net and having all the amenities of a laptop computer at my fingertips.

Whoops. Probably shoulda called it something else than iPad. Gives people like me the wrong idea.

The next year I got TWO lumps of coal in my stocking. The one I asked for from my dad(he left when I was a young boy) and then one from Santa for being a bad boy and asking deadbeat dad for a Christmas Gift. Hahaha tricked you Idiot Santa, I need coal to heat my house ya dinkus. Kiss off Fatman.

Which brings me to my next topic: LOVE

Now I'm not gonna say I love anybody, but I do. I love a lot of people. Well, not A LOT a lot. But you are pretty cool. You probably wouldn't love me no matter what but ESPECIALLY If you knew how much I smelled my own hands. I mean I don't do it in the same way that SNL character does. I don't put em in my armpits first. But I just smell em sometimes. Why am I telling you this? Why do I tell you anything really. Because you listen

I'm alone. Even if there were a thousand people around me while I write this, I'm all alone. Just reading this you should understand what I mean. And maybe when you do that, I will become less alone. But it's also possible that "Alone" does not have degrees to it, one either IS alone or ISN'T alone. I'm only asking for one person. And no one can give that to me. It's not that they don't WANT to give it to me. They CAN'T. And that's the hardest thing to swallow. Harder than this razor blade. Harder than a wall. Now I hope you won't go out and try to swallow a wall. It's too hard guys. Just trust me.

Oh to live in a time when every thing on earth is edible. Everyone's gotta eat. Everything natural is edible. You could eat wood if you didn't have to worry about getting a splinter.

You could eat rocks if stupid God made your teeth a little bit stronger. What the heck was he thinking? Also why'd he have to make our waste smell bad? He shoulda made it smell like fresh cut roses and then you wouldn't have to get mad at people who don't know when to courtesy flush in a public bathroom.

You could eat Tree Frogs if they hadn't........evolved........a uh..........poisonous defense against being eaten...........or something. Anyway God grant me the serenity etc. etc. etc. y'know what I'm sayin'?

My mouth says some crazy things sometimes, but not nearly as many crazy things as my brain thinks. Like this for instance:

If I could do things differently I would've known where you were my whole life and nothing bad would've ever happened to me. Or you, probably.
So there's that. If any of you met me you'd know it was me by being the guy in the t-shirt of a metalcore band that I don't even like singing Clipse lyrics to myself as I sit alone at my kitchen table eating a Subway sandwich. Also, why are you in my house and how did you get in here?

But hey, let's watch some television. Let's have a look at what's on the ol' idiot box huh? Flip that sucker on. Power that sonofagun up. What's on Channel 2?

A SHOW ABOUT BEAUTIFUL SUCCESSFUL PEOPLE

What about Channel 4?

A SHOW ABOUT BEAUTIFUL SUCCESSFUL PEOPLE

What about Channel 6?

A SHOW ABOUT BEAUTIFUL SUCCESSFUL PEOPLE

What about Channel 8?

SPORTS

What about Channel 11?

THE NEWS

Damn, already watched the News tonight. Nevermind. Let's watch Netflix.

A television is like a window in a way except you can choose what you want to look at. You can't change the channel on a violent TV show inappropriate for children if you're looking out your window at it.

Calm down for a moment and consider the following things:

Elephant Ballet

Glass Ants

Magic Eye Walled Insane Asylum

Space Teens(Punks)

Door Made Of Dogs

Poker With Chips That Try To Run Away From The Table And Start Chip Families

A Tattoo Of Hell

Bug Blanket Break me in two. Eat one of my halves now and save the other half for later. But please don't put me in the fridge. It's so cold in there. Come to think of it it's gettin' a lil cold in here right now Everybody wants to be loved. So how is it that so many people are such terrible assholes? That's the question what baffles me.

I came home from work one night, at around 11 pm. As I entered the door of my house, I immediately felt something was

amiss. Something was out of place, I instantly could feel it. I walk into the living room, and discover my sister passed out on the floor. I freeze in fear. What the hell happened? Is she alive? Is she dead? I can't tell. She stirs a bit, calming my nerves a little. I say "What happened?". "I fell", she says, which squeezes a tiny bit of laughter out of me. From her slurred speech I can tell she's drunk out of her mind. I go to help her up when I realize the sweatpants she's wearing are down at her knees and she's laying in a position where I can't pull them up. The carpet in the area she's laying is stained, and it becomes quickly obvious that she has pissed herself. So I have to lift her into a position in which I can pull her pants back up, then lift her up to her feet and help her to bed. This is all after having worked a 16 hour shift on very little sleep. So I help her to her feet, and walk with her, making sure she balances well enough to make it to her bed. Once she's all tucked in, I spend the next 30 minutes cleaning up the piss stain on the living room carpet. Apparently she had drunk an entire bottle of tequila that night. When I asked her why she was drinking so much alone at home, she replied "Cinco De Mayo." IT WAS MAY 14TH AND WE'RE NOT EVEN MEXICAN. Actually, it wasn't my sister that did this. It was my dad, whose right side was crippled by a massive stroke a few years earlier. I don't even have a sister.

the woman on the tv

looks beautiful. big surprise there.


It would probably be lame of me to sing the lyrics to "My Way" by Limp Bizkit but that's all that I can think to do at this moment in time Cuz this time I'ma let it all come out This time I'ma stand up and shout I'ma do things My Way It's my way My way or the highway

I have never had the urge to hurt myself, but I know that there are many people out there that have, and still do. I love you all, and I wish you would not do that because it would be better for your long term health probably, but you'll never see me smack the razorblade out of your hand. Because ultimately, it's your choice. It will be better for you if YOU are the one to decide to stop, if that's even something that you want to do.

The Buccaneers old Creamsicle jerseys Made me want ice cream really bad Too bad they were awful back then I may have had a tastier childhood

Life and I are at an impasse I don't know where to go next And there are no Gas Stations around To stop and ask for directions

This is my least favorite color

There is a hurricane between you and I

And sadly there probably will never not be It might make a pot of soup out of our heads A tasty concoction for the homeless to fill their bellies with

Your power shot straight, waxing candled mountains wick longer than a bride's train, carrying so much graffiti tag ripped out and thrown in a trash can you hear me as I scream hawk swooping in like windswept rain of kingdoms, armies of sword swingers fucking the life out of each other drunk on spiked tomato juice, keys piled on top of keys in a bedpan, flute like a Heisman, critical mass murder suspect me guilty, consciousness. The Haddock fish scale of justice, blind leading the blinds drawn to let in zero light blue sky scrapers, no scraping, ice off of your windshield, spears and 300 Spartans, Phalanx formation of cloud computing, mathematical face, adding and subtracting sour expressions like toddlers in school, with numbers of Cheese sandwiches that Ms. Wilson made for her son's soccer team, with bacteria.

Rockin' a Parasol in a Whirlwind, contact my agent if you want me to talk to the media, he knows what I would say. My dad never told me I had to be a man when I grew up but I ended up being one anyway. The way not illuminated with Halogen Fluorescence, but with candlelight, so if I run too fast I could blow them out and never find my way back.

It's morning in reality but night in my mind, My Owl-ish qualities are not confined to good eyesight but also nocturnality. Also, I've said "Who" before but it's mostly just whenever I look in to the mirror.

Don't talk to me about your fantasy football team. Unless something like, REALLY CRAZY happened in your matchup.
Yo, my man's and dem Was down dey at tha cona sto' Muhfucka walk up in dey wit a gun, son Rob they shit All tha bruvva took Was some GOTdamn Flamin' Hot Cheetos They don't cost but 99 cents, mane. Just buy dem shits. You ain't got 99 cents?

You're fuckin' A right I don't.

My mother was very poor

So poor life is all I know

My only skill is not saying the right thing

But at least I say it at the right time

The spice of life

Is not variety

It's to cuddle with someone you love

Even if it's only your friend

And not someone you want to kiss passionately

ACQUIESCE WITH ME

The starting lineup is as follows:

At Guard, a man in a suit, similar to a cop's! At Guard, a hard plastic sheath, to protect soccer players' shins! At Forward, how I am with my feelings, sometimes to a fault! At Forward, Progress! And at Center, The Sun! Head Coach, No one. Game over, that's against the rules. Dumbass.

When someone says "No one cares about (TOPIC X)" what they really mean is "No one whose opinion I consider valid cares about (TOPIC X), therefore I do not consider (TOPIC X) a valid

topic to discuss". Don't let this manipulation of language fool you. A LOT of people care about Nascar. A LOT.

Upheaval within the Demonic Hordes chasing you down as you walk to the store in the middle of the night. A usually uneventful trip but something tonight was different. Something smelled different about the air. There was a certain......Redness to it. You didn't know there were Demons chasing you. But their leader has grown impatient with their demon skills. You don't seem to be scared even though you feel weird. He requests they step up their snarling and their haunting and their teeth gnashing and sharpen their claws. But by the time they all get the message, you're already back at home in your PJ's, eating your Mallowmars. Oh well. Guess it's time to move on to another poor wayward soul. Better luck next time.

I'm blind, Mr. Magoo. Abel only to see bits and pieces, only flashes of brilliance, with no Cain to keep me in check.

Everything is unreliable Because everything will stop working after a while Unless you never use it In which case what use is it to you?

SHOW ME YOUR TRUE COLORS


Tenderize my beef with forceful hugs, that pound my body into smiling submission. Happy to get hurt by love, overflowing.

The Cup Runs Over Me And Drives Off. Hit And Run. No License Plate Number, No Registration. It's A Cup. What Are The Cops Gonna Do? Probably Not Believe You.

The Roof caves, in the mountains of molehills, do not wake the Sleeping Giant's Causeway of Ever branching Paths, To Glory, Of the coming of the Lord's Prayer, For Judgment, Day The Earth Stood Still, Of the Night Of the Living Dead Man Walking The Tightrope Between Friendship And Intimacy, Closed the Road to Nowhere In Particular Place To Go West, Young Man, young Cardinal Red Pope, A King in a Pointy Hat, flying on wings of glue made from a non-flying animal, Kingdom of Hearts Desire, What's lurking in my lungs, cold air keeps me alive and kicking the tires, the Snow Chains rattling the caged bird sings. I used to know why but I forgot. Distant Knowledge an unwelcome substitute teacher for more current logic. Problems, I have them's the breaks the chain of eventual death ray of sunshine state of play the game of Life.

He thought he was a worm. Steeped horribly in irrationality, and being a human, nobody but nobody could tell him he wasn't a worm. He loved worms. He loved the saying "The Worm Has Turned". He DIDN'T love the joke "What's worse than finding a worm in your apple? Finding HALF a worm!" because it reminded him that worms die. Everything dies. Perhaps he was trying to suspend his humanity by trying to convince himself he wasn't human. Perhaps he saw the seemingly inherent evil in the human condition and saw the lack of sentience within a worm, and thought he could choose to be incognisant. Choose to put a shield over his eyes. Forget what it was to be human, to be evil. To hate things. To see awful things take place, powerless to stop. To say

hurtful things in fits of rage to people you truly love, to lose things. All worms can do is move. "That makes them the perfect creatures", he thought, "because that means they can't fuck things up with their emotions." Perfect sense in his mind. So he smeared slime all over his body and went outside and rolled in the dirt. And he put a blindfold over his eyes. And he put tape over his mouth. And he had his voice box removed. And he punctured his ear drums. And he slithered to school one day(Mom MADE him go) to prove all the HUMANS wrong. Everyone was screaming insults at him, but he couldn't hear. Everyone was making rude gestures at him, but he couldn't see. All he could do was move. All he could do, was move. And he felt perfect in that moment. He felt like he had discovered the true essence of life. Just to move. To exist unaware of the surrounding earth and all its treacherousness, in the form of speech, of sight, of hearing. But, Worm Boy could still THINK. "What good a worm am I if I can still think?" he thought, further infuriating him as he could not get himself to stop thinking thoughts. HUMAN thoughts, nonetheless, not even Worm thoughts. He tried so hard to think "SOAK UP NUTRIENTS" or "WHAT'S THAT LIGHT PATTERN OVER THERE" only, even as Unwormlike as those thoughts are, they were still an improvement over "I wonder how weird I look" or "How impressed is everyone with my dedication" or "What is everyone saying about me, I wonder?" So one day he decided to slither on over to the lobotomy shop and end this wretched prison sentence of thought. See, the good thing about Lobotomy Shops is you don't need to tell them what you want done, once you enter, it is assumed(and I think by this time they'd just do one on Worm Boy out of posterity after seeing his decrepit, awful state). So Worm Boy saved up all the energy he could muster and made the long slither trek to the Lobotomy Shop. He never thought about how much it would cost, but once he rolled through the door, the Brain Men didn't really think about that either. They

just fired up the Brain Drill, and prepared to take his sentience, for once and for all. Worm Boy didn't even know what hit him. Ever again. He was gone, and became an it. They rolled him out the door. He just lay there. He was dead. Less than a worm. A nothing. A waste of temporal space. He never truly became what he wanted to become, or what he thought he could be. All because of his distaste. For the Human. Condition.

Strap me into a gurney and force me into Palliative Care Even though I'm not dying I just need someone to ease my pain I need a nurse to feed me applesauce And stroke my hair lovingly Then at the end of the day I can get up and go home My insurance probably covers this But even if not I will pay out of pocket for it No matter the price Even if it requires my dignity

Towering Spruce Saplings Looming large over Earth, staring down At little ant humans waiting for the axe to enter We are scared of shadows, that's why we must fell them I'm using this color because the word "Spruce" reminds me of it, ok Walking on stairs made of dead felled trees, perfectly mathematized, Stare Free blood available in the Blood Drive Lobby Area, All you have to do is..... Steal it from under the noses of the vampires. They won't bite hard really Just enough to break skin. Bring a flashlight if they get too rowdy, just shine it straight in their eyes, they hate light u understand? Make sure yr Aim is on point, you don't wanna miss this important light shot, dude. Don't be a bad light archer.

Penalty could be extremely severe, you know? Be careful

Its that portion of the program where I tell you what to dream about again! Try these: 1. A gravel road that screams in agony every time you drive on it 2. The Tree of Life falling in with the wrong crowd and becoming the Tree of Death, dressing in all black, doing Tree Drugs, rebelling against Tree Cops and its own Tree Parents 3. Driving in a Driveway and Parking in a Parkway 4. A Mouse catching YOU in a trap by putting a lil hunk of cheese in it(Hes seen the way you look at cheese while you eat it. Your eyes smack of love) 5. Everyone Speaking Tangible Words In This Font 6. A Roulette Wheel that never stops spinning. The line of

people betting on what it will stop on stretching all the way from the Casino to Truth Or Consequences, New Mexico 7. Kissing the person you want to kiss(this might be the most unlikely to happen of all of these) 8. A Number of Such Great Magnitude, the very concept of it is lost on you and everyone else, except Deities. A Disembodied Voice booms, saying you can have anything you want, any tangible thing, to amount to this impossibly large numbers. You say, almost as a reflex Potato Chips? You are instantly drowned in salt and fried potato crisps. 9. Me

I am shown a window. Of course, I make to look through it. Outside, an otherwise nondescript Hispanic man in a hairnet looks back at me, holding up a sharp, glimmering knife against the beating Sun. A cow is shoved forth, bleating wildly, probably cognizant of what is about to happen. The man smiles, as he plunges the knife into the neck of the cow. There is nothing sacred in this gruesome spectacle, there is nothing beautiful, no poetry to be found in it. Blood is soaking everything. The man, the grass, the knife, the Leathery skin of the now long dead animal. Thought saturated in blood, the man continues to smile. Hes making a healthy living wage, and may be able to put his young children through a respectable American university if he plays his cards right. We cant blame him for this gruesome death. We cant blame anyone, really. Everyones just doing their job. Well, we could blame SOMEONE

actually. Ourselves. A few yards from the slaughter, a young mother of Indian descent stands, crying effusively, holding her child. The Sacred animal has been lost, but perhaps the spirit can be salvaged. As the cow parts are about to be shoved into the Meat Grinder, the Indian woman cries out for the man to stop. In an unstoppably quick motion, she shoves her child into the meat grinder, preserving the spirit of her Sacred Love, at a great cost, but possibly at an even greater reward.

I suppose after all this, the thing Im trying to say is simply this:

ONE MANS

TRASH IS ANOTHER MANS TREASURE

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