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YES IT IS working!

THE BACHELOR FINALE CHANGED MY LIFE!!!!!!

Yesterday I said to a co-worker of mine, "Hey, did you see the finale of The Bachelor!?" And this co-worker, who for the sake of avoiding unnecessary embarassment we will call "douche-bag" said to me, "Oh, I don’t watch television." And I thought, Well aren’t you just Noam fucking Chomsky. Hey everybody, let’s all be like douche-bag the douchiest bag here, who takes pride in having eliminated from his life the primary communicative medium of our society. Instead of wasting our time with "Bachelor" and "Regis", why don’t we all just sit at home and be like douchetasticality, who apparently spends his evenings drinking his Tanqueray martini up with a twist, pondering the asthetics of his most recent origami swan while writing articles for the local "IN" paper and coming up with mind-altering, orgasm indusing platitudes like "I don’t watch television"!? Artitst of the world– no, fuck it, EVERYBODY! Just take a fat shit on your plasma screens and wipe your ass with that "IN" paper, ’cause after Douchie McDoucherson here gets done NOT watching TV he’s going to revolutionize the intellectual world to such a profound degree that the rest of us are just going to have to buy a big picture of him and go home and look at it and whack off!!!!!!!!
But then, out loud, I said, "Yeah, I don’t really watch TV either."

I dream of Loofah

So i had this weird ass dream where I walked by my roommate and some unidentifiable horse

looking woman. Before I could even comment on the weather horse girl said to roommate,

"yeah, that's like using someone else's loofah!" and

they both looked at me with a look that cried

'well, what do you think...WAYLON!' to which I replied,

"what's wrong with using someone else's loofah?"

and my roommate went from inquisitive to infuriated,

like he was going to pee a little in his pants and then I said, "what? it's just a loofah...man" to

which he replied, "Just a loofah!?...JUST A LOOFAH!?!?"

he walked off saying something under his

breath about midgets and sharpening knives. I looked at horse lady and quipped, "why the long

face?" to which she nayed, "First off, that's not funny! and second, don't even step to me motha

fucka! I'll smack da nasty out yo ass...god damnit! I'll go so milli vanilli up in this bitch you'll have to call your mommy for a ride home!" Call my mom...what?! I was thouroughly confused and

thinking, well no, actually, I said, in a voice that clearly expressed me one upping this

whore,"well then, it's a good thing there's no nasty in my ass for you to smack out...so HA! and

what the fuck is Milli Vanilli up in this bitch? And why would I have to call my mom for a ride hom? That makes no sense...What, are you going to do that poor editing voice

over thing like in karate movies? is that the milli vanilli reference?" Then I gave myself a

figurative pat on the back as if to say, 'oh, we got this bitch'. Then she stepped back and started

moving her lips like Mr. Ed did, which, by the way, I heard that the way they got him to do that

was by sticking carrots in his butthole, I stuck a carrot in my butthole once and definitely did the

Elvis slash quiver slash I didn't really stick a carrot in my...I have no evidence to back that up

the Mr. Ed lip move theory, but that's what I heard...maybe I heard it in a dream...anyway, back

to horse lady. She then got in the charging position and did that breathing thing out her nose

where you can see her breath and it made her look like a bull or something. She then charged

with the fury of a million really strong things and stopped right as she got to me, turned around

and kicked me right in the ass! She then nayed, "Then what the FUCK is that motha fucka?!" I

looked at the ground and thought 'no fuckin' way, she just knocked the nasty out of my ass!' I

don't recall what it looked like, but it was definitely nasty. As I searched the room for nothing

other than a utensil to put the nasty back into my ass with...my roommate came out of his room

with a naked mexican midget holding the machete my Grandpa had me use to cut his corn fields

down with, and a sombrero filled with chips and salsa and said, "JUST A LOOFAH!?!? That's like

you waking up in the morning with my naked ass sitting on your face and YOU get pissed, and

then me saying, 'What? it's just my balls dude...um...woah!...is that your nasty on the ground

dude?'""Yeah, you...go...on...without...me...and tell Karl Rigby I want my Karl Malone rookie

card to be in my coffin god damnit...are those Bugle Boy Jeans you're wearing?" My roommate

then grabbed a chip from the mexican midget's hat and ever so delicately dipped it in what

looked like Sam’s choice salsa...mild, and placed it on my lips choking out the words,"I know if

anything will bring you out of this, it's food." and I said,"dude, wrong time for fat jokes, I'm

dying, FUCKER!...that was kind of funny though...(cough,gag,cough)....salt...(cough)salt" My

roommate said, "MRS. ED! SALT, NOW! AND YOU, MEXICAN MIDGET HOLDING

MACHETE, QUICK, RAIN DANCE OR SOMETHING" to which the mexican said, in perfect

english,"I'm a mexican midget, not an Aztec you culturally insensitive fuck ball!" and he ran

away, spilling the chips and salsa everywhere...my kryptonite...Mrs. Ed was hesitant but she

finally gave up the salt cube she'd been licking on the whole time...I thought, 'no wonder you

weren't in that TV show you ungrateful bitch!' My roommate rubbed what we later found out

was a 24 sided di on my lips and placed the chip in directly after...he shook my hand and

professed,"you still have the grip of a thousand milkers waylon..."everything got blurry, then I

woke up and went to class, the end....PS...that was the saltiest 24 sided di i've ever tasted!

Maynnaise tastes better with her

Right now I have a mosquito bite on my left elbow
It itches


Before you let your eyes wander any further
Don’t think for ONE second
That this is some sort of a
“Confession of my undying love”
Type story
Don’t think this is a
“I sit alone and write your first name with my last name attached at
the end”
Type story
Because that’s soooo 8th grade and
Besides, this is more of a
3rd grade type love story
The type of love that bites you in your ass at your
10 year High school Reunion
Type story
The love where instead of telling you the truth and possibly spoiling
the moment I’ll probably just put you in some sort of
Headlock and Tell you to tap my arm when it hurts
By third grade I mean I don't remember anyone from my third grade
Class and I don't expect you to remember this either
Don’t think I’m pulling the “win you over with words” card either
Because:
ONE: I don’t even have a deck of cards, so even if I wanted to pull a
card…I don’t have any
TWO: Cards are used to play tricks on people
THREE: Only reinforcing some sort of weird us/them dichotomy that
I don’t wanna go into detail about right now so stop fucking looking
at me that way people
FOUR: I don’t even know if there’s such thing as a “win you over
with words” card because during my limited yet well documented
use of cards, well, I’ve never seen one…but, if that card DOES in fact
exist and it was within a reasonable distance from me and I didn’t
have to exercise or break a sweat getting it out…I am still not
pulling that card
OK..That was a very long slash unnecessary explanation of the
whole, “me not pulling a card” Line, But, Either way, You get the
fucking point…I’m not pulling a card

Sometimes I just feel things
And the only way to get those feelings to collapse is to put them
down in words
That’s how my life works
If I can’t stop thinking about something
I write it down and usually before I’m even done writing
I’m over it
Don’t think I’m writing this to get over you cuz, well
I’ve never been under you
I do, however, want you to know
That sometimes I can’t help but notice how flawlessly we fit
Together how perfectly imperfect this love can be
Like the guy who dabs his pizza with a napkin
Not because he knows the nutritional value
But because the girl he can’t stop thinking about
Used to do that I know how fucking cute you are when
I see you’re embarrassed and how I’ll continue to embarrass you
from then on…unless of course you don’t want me to cuz honestly,
you’re the boss you'll tell me you're in love with my mind and how
that’s worth writing home about you will say,
“Don’t fall in love with me!!!! IF YOU DO…I like Tiffany's”
I’ll reply,
“You don’t fall in love with me, but if you do…I like Mayonnaise”
I’ll give you a wink and a point and
We’ll laugh and for a brief moment
Escaping the boundaries of an otherwise
Uneventful day of
Discovering new friends who only assist us in
Not telling each other how we really feel
So feel me when I say this
I need you…
A
L
L
And next time you see me scratching my left elbow just know this…I’m thinking of YOU…

Make it a Double

AS IF
Waylon Brown

It’s 3AM
and now these tears part with my eyes as if I had a shoulder to dry them on
while this boy parts with his father as if they had nothing more to say to each other
but the truth is...I wasn't done talking
walking down the driveway at night I guess I half expect him
to hand me a Camel Light
flaunting his flashlight
that supposedly never burns out
no doubt I'm in the dark tonight
not a bulb in sight to light my way around this frown
so now I navigate pathways between the profane and sublime
for him no matter how dim the day gets

there are now things about my father I will never learn
yet I still stand sturdy upon this stage as if someone out there might somehow still be proud of me
as if someone else will magically pick up where we left off and say
"that's my boy…That’s MY boy!”
to bad my dad had no understudy
why would he?
he had all his lines memorized
besides
you'd be mesmorized
by the look in his eyes
when he said
"Waylon...do you think there is a god?”
“I don’t know dad”
“well if there is…do you think she’ll forgive me?"
and like a boy skipping rocks on a pond pondering how many people may have invented the post-it
but just had nothing to jot it down on
I too have no clue dad
and now these words part with my mind as if I had a sympathetic someone to listen to them
Then and Now
The difference between then and now is
then was a few short days ago and
now is a day I thought would never come
as I sit with half a handle of whiskey left even my most optimistic of friends know it's half empty
you see I used to half full
I used to have full
confidence in my ability to hollow out the humor in everything horrible
instead of whoreing out my humor until everything's hollow
so
please pardon my pitiful pun people but it stings like a bee when I let the buzz wear off
and it's times like this I wish I wasn't drunk
so I could convey once ounce of conviction on this conveyer belt of emotion
when I convict life of false advertisment
that's right...I said it...FALSE!
bosting it's big bountiful breasts as a beautiful broad but underneath the bobby pins, big boobs, and bangin buts
is just another boney bitch
which
brings me to my next point
which brings me to my next
point at a star tonight, any star, name that star
then after your star falls come find me and try telling me
It's not hard to give up something you never thought would leave
Now aint that a bitch
which
brings me to my next
which brings me to my
ladies
next time someone calls y'all a bitch
don't give em the
"oh hell no! I know you just didn't....mm...mmm, mm"
give em the switch
say
"a bitch? A BITCH!? A bitch is a female
dogs
bark is part of a
trees are part of
nature is beautiful
so thank you for the compliment....FUCKER!"
I wish I could propose a toastto the world and say
"to me...to us...to you"
to you…to
usually this is the part of the piece where my heart is on my sleeve for you to poke at and make fun
but no one will ever hurt me now
Some of y'all might call me a dreamer here
but as long as my silent cries for help keep piercing the drums of def ears
years of taking one step forward only to fall two steps back
might just finally get me
back to where I started
and at least then I had a mother AND a father