my friend SCIN
Posted: Sat Mar 29, 2003 7:02 am
lightning crashes, cars race, kangaroos hop and look like big fuckin rats, but our precious SCIN sleeps. no, not merely resting his eyes and his large ego, and in the pseudo-psychedelic world of REM's, but sleeps from the furious wrath of a madman trapped inside a little boy. this little boy frank has a finger named ron. ron likes to jump out of the skin and play little games like creating various shapes of blood into fractal geometries. running around the floor, back and forth, back and forth...there we have it. rectal blood? noooo sir ree. the juice, the essence, the right stuff. straight from the boilermaker itself. how do we get it? ron and his eight friends and two retardo bumblies rip through flesh and bone, fighting ever harder as the source is drawing nearer, like a positron-electron pair, attracted toward each other then annhialiting with a burst of energy! that beautiful red blood showers the room all over ron and his companions. even sending little droplets of the goodness down franks esophagus. mmmm. more. chest hair and skin are torn and mixed and sticky with the deep red juice. like a jackson pollock piece mounted on SCIN's body. so unintelligible, yet so striking you just have to have it. eat it bitch! you just need more. you can't ruin the canvas. just let it lay there. just let it sleep. just let it die.
