Resist
the temptation to tempt yourself.
I
am thinking about eating some unfrosted strawberry Pop-Tarts.
It’s
2:53 AM do you know where your doctor is?
An
even better question does your doctor give a crap where you are?
We
sleep in our dreams because we’re too lazy to wake up and crush reality with
our unnerving strength and redoubtable courage.
We
trespass on another person’s virtual reality because we don’t have the good
sense to know when to breathe our last breath and turn our backs on our next
regeneration.
The
first time I met you at 3160 I knew you were a Time Lord passing themselves off
as a Cut-Out because as we both know resistance is futile when time is your
little bitch.
Let’s
get drunk on shots of Fireball Cinnamon Whisky and pretend we’re none the wiser
when the cops are called and we’re arrested for public intoxication.
Checked
out your band while The Exorcist played
in the background. Closed captioning was on as I watched some idiot with a pig
mask from the band before you make a real ass of himself.
When
you hit the stage it was more than I could have hoped for. You had full command
of everything transpiring around you as the paramount music whipped the
audience into a lather and you pierced our inner-sanctum with your shovelhead
intellect and alkaline wit.
It
was like I was in a time machine watching a friend I knew from a lifetime ago nail
himself to the railroad tracks, as the clouds covered us in marshmallow topping
and the oncoming train did its best to avoid his white bloated carcass.
Every
time we meet I have the best time because you have this uncanny ability of making
everyone feel at ease with your rogue manners and clownish way of revealing the
truth with your unbribable smile and Livewire Obscuria mix.
Charles Cicirella
12/6/15
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