I was left for dead on the side of the road. I decided I would not even try to get up, just going to lay here. Go ahead laugh at me, they are.

People stepped right over me on their way to self importance, One lady asked if I was dead and I didn’t know how to answer. I just laid there stupid, smelly and trying to act corpse-like. Cops came along and asked what I thought I was doing to which I replied, “I’ve had enough and I just want to lay here.”

They said “No, get up.”

I did, went home, threw up and went and laid on the ground in my backyard, “Fuck you cop I do what I want” I lay there and let the ants crawl into my ears, through my hair, I didn’t even move to stop them, you see I was already dead so the eye popping violence doesn’t matter.

Soon my back started to hurt from laying on the ground so I was forced to get up and have an aspirin, I’m just trying to make friends with forever. Crap can’t even die right. 

What did Roger Waters call it?

Oh yes, A creeping malaise.

Ash Grey Skies the Color of Death’s Eyes

I fear I have assuaged my desire of want and need. Can my sins even be forgiven? Looking for something to prove that my sanity is intact.

Everyday life carries its own fears, its own terrors. Just to open the front door and look out, utter madness out there. Now go make something of yourself, make a plan for failure.

I don’t want to Work. 

I have a fulltime job, I drink!

I have a part time job, I write, between the two and Film Noir my plate is fairly full, thanks.

Fuck rent, I prefer not too!

You simply have to get a job.

Turn to my left, Aberration

What kind of job can I get where people won’t see how insane I actually am?

I got it, I’ll drive for UBER. I’ll wear sunglasses and refuse to speak. How can anyone even know?

Turn to My Right and the sinister 33 Awaits

13 months later, man were those some strange days, super model, dude in drag, female pro beach volleyball players, the “Murder House”? That will be for a read all its own

While putting on more than 120 miles a day driving the streets of L.A. My soul cracked, my will broke, “So Goddamn sick of sitting in traffic” I screamed right out loud. See my spirit, see that blood? It’s mine?

Need a Reason, Need a Pulse.

Sitting at another red light I look to my left and there it was, looking old and forgotten just like my current situation. I decided to go in.

First time I talked to the boss not the G.M.(She was a bit of a nutter) I was hired. Having been a bowler since I was 6 I figured this is it. 

If you Dig under this lane there is a Door that Leads to a Portal into Hell

A bowling alley, not just any bowling alley, a house of Taj wonders.

Welcome World.

As with any gig, it had its moments, crypts full of laughs, loads of high scoring, was privileged enough to have seen at least 5 “300” games thrown right before my (my highest game? 257) eyes.

Sadly a beautiful man (but if I get a choice how I’ll go out, I would seriously look at this exit) died right on lane 33. He walked onto the approach, took aim at the pins and dropped. By the time the ambulance got him to the hospital he was bowling with god.

Hey is That the Control desk? Always wanted to get behind one those

Nice Shoes, but they must smell Something awful

That can’t possibly work

Hey Mister not very respected orator dude, “Can you take us in the back?” I’ve always wanted to see what it looks like back there.

You bet your fur little missy I can take you and your friend back there, just stay out of smelling distance and follow me.

Go ahead Put your Arm in There

You are about six feet in the air walking that plank

Is it Noisy ? What??

Palos Verdes Bowl met its sad demise in February 2020 just days before lock down and the unmitigated absurdities and atrocities that were to confound us all occurred.

It’s now a Christ forsaken Chick-Fil-A, fuck those mother-less whores

Like most bowling alleys, gone. Less than 5% of the lanes that used to be open still remain, fat ass lazy cunts that we’ve raised have decided way too much of how the future will work for my liking.

 And of all those houses that are still in existence most are those ridiculous “Bowlero’s” and I hope I get in trouble for saying this but Bowlero sucks cock, ass and hairy nut sack, you impish bastards!! 

Bowlero ownership I wish you many bad dreams for ruining a perfectly legitimate game. Good for the body, mind and soul. I reject this, Now turn down that damn music! 

It was perfect, but it was more than that, it was life changing. Just walking into a bowling alley that smell of shoe spray? It changed my direction. I bounced this way instead of that. I had found a way up and then like everything else good and real, it’s closed down. Great, thrown back I go to the side of the road with the other refuse.

And now it’s gone, Turns out my America is not everybody else’s America. They want puppy mills and bad ice cream, I want fire and disaster. How can these two co exist?

In the end no one wins.

I’ve seen an angel but she didn’t like me.

And you CPP3, are you still ducking me? Bout to think you might be chicken. Any house, any time. We go a series of three games but I will have embarrassed you right out of the alley by midway through the second game, winner takes it all. Let’s go Chris Paul, time to step up or step off.

Someone whistle something pretty, don’t ask me to sit down, I won’t, if you need someone to talk to please keep moving I’ve nothing to offer.

Lar 01-2023. Growing ill of the whole “Taj” thing