Friday, June 10, 2011

Used to be this blog, see...and a Dude called Fairlane

*old mast head, Jonestown

Jonestown was one of the first blogs I stumbled onto, into and around. It kinda blew me away, see, cause I had never read or heard about blogs much until then, however long ago that was.  See, the deal was.... truth&stuff... I was looking for a recipe for Cajun Meatloaf... and I skittered here, bounced off there..straight on to someewhere else.... I was careening through the clouds... and it ain't no neveermind...see, but I landed in Jonestown.... and there was a guy named Fairlane.... and a cast of Clowns, Wizards, Bitches and Balderdash that well, it was stuff... and if you said you understood all of what was on the pages you would be lying.... and if you said you didn't get it, the point.... you really were a dumbass.... he would write like this... and this is mild... but but but

When Fascism comes to America they say it will come wrapped in a Flag waving a Cross.
I say-
Fuck that.
Wrap that bitch up tight in a Jimmy Hat (like a Dog).
Keep it from getting on anyone.
Christine O’Donnell has a Plan.
But it’s not Plan B.
In her world being Mastur of your own Destiny is a BIG No.No.No!
Can’t trust us with such details- Leave it to (Beaver) Me.
She says.

I know what’s best-
As Director of the Ministry of Love, she promises an Iron Fist in every Pussy.
Of course, She meant “Pot.”
Wink, wink, nod, nod.
You betcha

 it was like someone took the shark's teeth out of the glass on granny's night stand, gave it to the old beagle on the porch and then chased the pooch around........

When Fascism comes to America it will be wrapped in Lipstick, and High Heels waving to us on Fox News.
Everyone in Position-

ok.  like I said... that was mild... and those are just some clips from before he went MIA... not that he is really gone, he just went gone somewhere else, and that ain't no big deal, see.......

Yesiree, Billy Fuckin’ Bob, they be A lot of Old Ass Mother Fuckers Sporting Solecistic Sign-ery whilst exposing Paper Skin to Scorching Sun.
All in the Name of Liberty.

(Take that You Statist Whipper Snappers!)

And what has these Concerned Not Too Distant Future Nursing Home Residents up in Flabby Arms?
Well, they Wants tuh Know-
When is Adolf Niggler™ going to get his Big Gummint, Slimy, Commie Colored Hands out of  Medicare, and Social Security, and into the pockets of those Lazy, Good for Nothing Trickster, Crack Smoking Swindler, Big Butt Having, Wide Nosed-Breathin’ All the White Man’s Air Negroes running around like they Own the Place?
*And don’t fergit them Mexicans, too*

...that is just part of one post...  now I have been writing since, well, since Sister Mary Saving Grace threw a poem of mine up on the bulletin board back in first gradeee and I thought, "Shit, I have been published!"  So I started chiming in with comments on the commentable section... and damn, after awhile folks started comment back,, mostly telling me to shut up (kidding) and get my own bloggy.
which, huh! here it is.... but the thing was the stuff he would write on those pages....

And the Summer of Our Discontent is fading into the Fall from a really High Building w/out a Mixed Metaphorical Paddle.
Glenn Beck is a Smug Cunt. Let’s get that out in the OPEN for the White Eyed and Bush-y tailed.
Tell him to his face, but Grifters only have Eyes for the Jaundiced. He ain’t interested in-
Speaking of Failing Livers-
Old people really suck.
Once you get to the point you no longer recognize you smell like Cat Litter, it’s time to Die or at the very least, Move out of the Goddamn Way.
Too late for “Restorations,” or “Refudiating Cackles of Rads.”
Not right for the Old to Decide for the Young-
Let us get on with Living.
I know.
Because nothing says-
Welcome, Pair of Mormon dudes riding Mountain Bikes wearing white short sleeve shirts, long pants, and ties in 97° weather, better than Nineteen Full Metal Jacket Cap Peelers.
Sure, I’d love to Convert…
Seriously, Mormonism is Scientology with an even less believable Story Line. (Yeah, you heard me, Fuck L. Ron Ron).
Thetans or Lamanites?
Wow, tough choice.
I’ll get back to you after I self-Lobotomize.
God Almighty.
What are people to do these days?

Tosspots abound, War, Greed,  Reverse Racism, Art is being Murdered faster than the Rain Forests, AND there Ain’t Shit on TV except a couple Toffee Nosed Mardies queefing out dialogue obviously written by a Quasi-Retarded Wannabe Poof going through an Artificially Inseminated After School Specialized Tragedy.
What the fuck they Expect people to think, Feel, Say?
I’m here, to tell you-
But Exactly what
I haven’t the faintest Fucking Idea.
I’m merely cuing you to the Farce right there in front of your Fucking Whatever-

ok.... Fairlane is done gone somewhere else, and it ain't no business of mine, and I really don't care all that much, see, but the deal is....that I realized I didn't have to think of what I was going to write some mornings.... just let it roll... so, kiddos, when you read my pages.... it ain't always me writing....
sometimes it's the candy wrapper on the sidewalk, or the stones rattling in an old cold tin can....or the dust smell that comes from old rotten wood.... or just the idea of what you can find when you go to look up a meatloaf recipe.
.... and remember, ketchup sucks... make your own sauce.


Sherry Peyton said...

Since I seem to be suffering from existential boredom today, this post came along at exactly the perfect time. I have no idea what I shall prose about today, and I'm not the least bothered. Please do more--please.

Have one on me tonight.

S.W. Anderson said...

Free-flowing, stream-of-consciousness prose can be very creative and effective. For me, as a reader, it works best in relatively short, punchy bursts.

I can see how Jonestown would fascinate you. That piece is a good one.

Gavrillo said...

Wow! Makes me wanna quit writing travelogues of life at the end of a dirt road and get back to real stuff, but... One liners I'd like to be able to remember when you're up against an ideological wall arguing with some twit.

/Once you get to the point you no longer recognize you smell like Cat Litter, it’s time to Die or at the very least, Move out of the Goddamn Way./

Yeah, so why is cat litter capitalized? Makes me want to go back 30 years and talk to the now deceased Chemist from MNPLS with the bottle of scotch and a WD-40 can with a false bottom.

okjimm said...

ha.Sherry... glad it worked for you... I really wish, sometimes,that Fairlane was still around. Course, you can try Randal at L'ennui Melodieux..he can twist and adverb and turn it into a noun.. or so it seems. of consciousness sure beats streams of used beer. just saying.

okjimm said...

G'rillo... your travelies are getting more & more all the time.... just doan be drinking the 40 year old WD 40 instead of the Scotch.

squatlo said...

Loved this one... kind of like listening to my own dazed and confused thoughts instead of reading yours.

And the meatloaf advice was right on time, thinking about making it tonight.

I know there's some roadkill around here somewhere...

susan said...

fairlane was one of the very first peeps to visit my blog back in the day when I was still wondering why I'd started one. I went to check out jonestown right then and was totally hooked on his over the top, relentless, take no prisoners style. His angry energy and sheer hilarity showed many of us the best that real blogging can and should be. I heard recently he's enjoying himself and annoying many at facebook. Hurray! You have helped keep blogtopia a a cool place.

nonnie9999 said...

i got caught in your stream of consciousness, and now my shoes are all squishy.

okjimm said...

Squatlo... a good meatloaf is worth it's weight in onions... or something like that... when someone asks me for the recipe,,, it's stricly don't ask, don't tell

Susan... yupperz.. I catch him on the pages, once in a while... I miss that blog... maybe someday, again...

okjimm said...

nonnie... beer and streams... must always be on the look out.

Alcyone said...


okjimm said...

Alcyone... grin, indeed. HA!

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