I hereto have come to believe that it is chicken that binds us together and transcends gender, race, religion, posture, etc. I am you in the chicken wing, you are me in the slimy off-pink breast area. We are joined in unanimous votes in favor of the oppressor. We are bound and gagged in the gut punch of human sensibility. Fortitude is lacking in certain regions; purposeful consumption is not. We must emit gutteral monosylllables and stretch the limbs outward towards assembly with our fellow earthworms.
There is still much work to do on relic #3, an important relic that comprises pink bubbles, mossy ground cover and gesture trunks. All is not well in this relic, it is an awkward inconsistent scene that must be punished into excitement. The goal for the next 4 days is transformation. The raw chicken is my beacon.
". . . it's always a shame to waste a good chicken part when you can make it into art."--David Lynch
ReplyDeletehttp://www.tandempress.wisc.edu/tandem/news/ifyouprintit.htm
And it seems like he did some sculpture with a dissected chicken at one point or another.
I am failing but not because of externalities.
ReplyDeletehi mm! i think you can punish a relic with one of those wooden things you mash chicken with. guess what everyone!! i have very special guests coming to my shack tonight!!! hint: one has a dirty beard full of maggots and feta cheese.
ReplyDeleteoh that photo of the catfish guy! I thought it was his uvula at first, I'm pee peeing myself.
ReplyDeletethese chicken parts look so cuddly, so malleable, i just want to slap my inner thighs with them you know? i would like to enter into the chicken transformation. where do i register?
ReplyDeletethey also remind me of cancerous humanlivers. i got to view a number of them yesterday at beige and i was thinking how many of them reminded me of friend tandoori chicken on the bone.
ReplyDeletecrunchie-like
ReplyDeleteyes, after reading FB, I am feeling quite hungry.
ReplyDeletecutlet, cutlet, how I love thee. You are the wings beneath me.
ReplyDeleteI spent another day at the beige without internets. That's it--I'm going on a bender.
ReplyDeleteThe chicken...or the EGG that binds us?
ReplyDeleteVia my tremendous psychic powers I see you soon making the pink bubbles your bitches, etc. as kelli might put it.
MM, the chicken parts are strangely beautiful; almost like stained glass. Perhaps the lovely pink tones of raw chicken meat will lead you to new heights of inspiration with your relic.
ReplyDeleteGood luck with the relic!!
Hi dearies! Night night.
ReplyDeleteUncle F. and I visited the home of WW and ST last evening. We were privileged to view many awe-inspiring relics. There are more thoughts coming WW, there are. I am jealous of your homemade slathering implement. Good thinking. The onion rings have lacerated my gums. It is interesting.
ReplyDeleteI am leading myself into the inspiration of fearlessness. There are plenty of folds in the paper.
ReplyDeletemm, tonight i am going to KFC for real. this chicken post has sent me over the top thinking about tasty chicken skin and such.
ReplyDeletesounds like a fun relic-viewing session with the ww & sst. my eye peeps are jealous, maybe you can eye-meld me the images. i am needing of this kind of nourishment. too much is happening, balancing, not sleeping, fretting.
visitors coming, fence dealing, vacation (vacation plan is stressing me out - sad!)
ReplyDeleteI am sorry to hear of your fret-causers, FB. Fried chicken is sure to be a balm. Healing wellness to the FB's inner visions.
ReplyDeletemm, the chicken-bits look like little lungs, breathing, breathing the fortitude into your regions...
ReplyDeleteuncle f and mm were the most inspiring visitors. to have a real live mountain man in the shack was bile inducing, and uncle of mountain man is a sage and seer. chum is the new chelsea, chicken parts have replaced brain cells for good. i am humbled.
ReplyDeleteand mm, sorry for your mouth tearing. my classy meal also ripped up the gums and seared the intestines. i hope you did not throw up.
ReplyDeletedid you have cap't crunch by chance?
ReplyDeletemm had onion-flavored cap'n crunch. that is what caused the ripping and bloody mess.
ReplyDeleteOh Capt'n Crunch! Yes, FB, why does it tear up my gums and stuff?
ReplyDeletethey look like meat arrowheads, i want to make a meat arrow and hunt stone animals.
ReplyDeleteit would be a different meat arrow from the one i already have.
I have more of a meat cudgel.
ReplyDeletewhat's a cudgel? Sounds like a dessert.
ReplyDeleteSloth - chicken lungs, yes. Breath through your soggy pinkness.
ReplyDeleteMartin, I will hunt with you the meat arrows. You are the stone animal that will be eaten by the teeth of narrowness.
PLUS!!! I heart cudgels.
Capt'n MM may need your help channeling the pink dots into bitches, what is the secret?
ReplyDeleteit is unfortunate, but I know the pink feathered whores keep secrets.
ReplyDeleteLupan you must smite them with the rice pot. Smack on the head, ow ow ow.
ReplyDeleteThere is nothing so slimy and sexed up as the raw chicken filet. Not healthy but very desirable.
ReplyDeletei love chicken slime, on my black eye, or between the thighs. sometimes, later on, rice helps to absorb.
ReplyDeleteThere is chicken on my thighs already. There are marshmallows in my button hooks.
ReplyDeletefrogs, i love your legs! let me ask, are you the kind of frog who can self procreate?
ReplyDeleteFrogs makes babies out of sweat drips from the exertion frenzy. Frogs calls you, you call him, he calls them. It's a chain of roundtable transmissions, prototypes emerging all the while. I am a father of dozens.
ReplyDeleteand a mother! I am proud of your fine work. do you french?
ReplyDeleteThis is so confusing. I like mustard. I am interested in protrusions. Is this what you mean?
ReplyDeleteKindly,
Frogs
There is pudding on my knees.
ReplyDeletenecklace, my thighs are creme-mellow flavored.
ReplyDeletei am a tard of many seeds, spores and a little pimple volcano under my nightingown.
ReplyDeleteI'm thinkin' this is a Fresh DIrect page? Is it?
ReplyDeleteThese chicken chunks make me think of the chicken fingers.
patch into my nubbins i am set and setting.
ReplyDeletethey remind me of the shape of my teeth, but are whiter.
ReplyDeletewhat if they were really my chicken teeth. all floppy. try to eat summer corn, so frustrating.
It sounds like a mare from the nights - the soft teeth that will not bite. The delicous insolent treats that will not give beneath the chicken teeth. Not good.
ReplyDeleteFrogs is so high on life.
ReplyDeleteActually Frogs is a stoner.
ReplyDeleteBread for all, thanks be to the delights of words. I am satisfied knowing this.
ReplyDeleteListen up wannabes.
ReplyDeleteRight. That's all.
Growrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. FIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tombstones will be delivered to you mother. You are dead. You are a figment. Slice.
ReplyDeleteNo way cunts, listen to me, there is a baby upstairs and it smells real bad. No more bshit. I am calling the cops on this baby, that will be the end of story. No dice.
ReplyDeleteoooo an art stare! quick shine the way, please i beg of you!
ReplyDeletei like baby .
ReplyDeletei think i drank.
ReplyDeleteFuck you BABY. You smell like dimes.
ReplyDeletefrogs i am so sober it is tragic. i wish i was stoned. if i lick your skin will i get high?
ReplyDeletesometimes, after touching babies, i smell my fingers.
ReplyDeleteSometimes after smelling babies I touch their mommies.
ReplyDeletei asked my daddy not to shower after he made a baby.
ReplyDeleteThe pure earth will forgive all. After many days the baby will know the father through his rank scent and grimy love. PURIFICATION DOES NOT INVOLVE SOAP.
ReplyDeleteMy father always shared.
ReplyDeleteI love this talk. I am tempered by it, I am in the caves. Torment me.
ReplyDeletei am getting down and dirty.
ReplyDeleteDear Handlebars,
ReplyDeleteA dare.
Deeper in the cave is a rafter of sorts. Bring rope and an open mind.
I bet you are fucker.
ReplyDeleteLet their be no filth in this talk, let there be praire skirts and braided hairs, tethered bits, thanks. I am preparing for my descent into the big box nation.
ReplyDeleteMMMMMMMM, tethered bits.
ReplyDeleteSlow down Randy, slow down fucker. Take a time out, eat some fruit, breathe into a bag. There are no whores here, only willing time attendants. The rope is a given, it is totally sanitary.
ReplyDeleteShit, even prairie skirts are hot.
ReplyDeleteJesus, I think lemonade might turn me on.
do you wanna suck my teat?
ReplyDeleteIt's my big day. I am ready to succumb to the fires of breathlessness, to begin knotting my ideas into prods.
ReplyDeleterope, the new abstinence....
ReplyDeleteI feel like I am in a boys' locker room. I am sullied.
ReplyDeleteNo one will abstain, everyone will aquiesce, it is the only logical means to happiness.
ReplyDeletewhere's my bitches? i'm down the shaft waiting for permission.
ReplyDeleteCherry Doll,
ReplyDeleteYou seem hot, if a little dumb. Wanna go to the dance?
I evaporate and become someone.
ReplyDeleteG'night. I am fortunate, I am ready to slumber and I am able to.
ReplyDeletecherry doll i am waiting with the loom. let us converge over multi-colored pot-holders.
ReplyDeleteweave me.
ReplyDeletejuggler come here, i am not wearing short shorts, and my groin is red like candy...sit.
ReplyDeletefucker, your filth and dark cave dwelling has inspired me to bring a flash light. I have extraordinary pubic hair. let us weave an evening together
ReplyDeletei think my anus winked at you
ReplyDeleteplease calm yourself. Tatarigami is not theway to inner peace!
ReplyDeleteaye, for fucks sake i'm just looking for a little play here. the toni home perm is in my fanny pack, lets kink up the pubes.. wink wink. and anus, you are so coy! open'er up - let's get shit-faced.
ReplyDeletei am scarring.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeletePink bubbles of bitch will bend over to your will or will bitchingly will their way over the bend. Either way you win, friend.
ReplyDelete