Archive for the 'addaboyz!' Category

Another Free Jar From Dr. Tweeks!

I had a dream this afternoon about my buddy MG TANK.

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He was dead from unexplained causes.

I wasn’t too sad though.

Things live. Things die. Welcome to planet Earth, dig?

It’s a topsy turvey world.

Nothing personal. I like the kid hugely. But…well you know how it is.Truth told: The whole thing worked out real sweet for me.

And TANK was too dead to know the difference.

Yo TANK! If you’re out there reading my blog from beyond the mysterious beyond — you should know:

Dude.

Your funeral total-way ruled!!

It was an open casket affair. MG TANK’S psychiatrist came. She’s a real nice lady. We call her Dr. Tweeks.

I stood in line behind Dr. Tweeks when we all filed past to view TANK’s body. Boy was that a stroke of fine luck & good timing! See, Dr. Tweeks paid last respects to her dearly departed patient by slipping a month’s supply of mixed-salt amphetamines into the breast pocket of TANK’s fancy funeral tuxedo.

MG TANK had a bumper sticker on his refrigerator. Yeah. Know what it says?

Yo TANK — I bet smartly you know which one I mean.

It’d be kind of like when I say, at times like these, “Hot damn it rocks to be Mike E!!!”

But in two or less words.

Tell you what dude: On account of having killed you in my blog post for a free jar of postmortem speed…I make you a deal. Tell me in the comment box which sticker I mean and I’ll give you a free pill the next time I see you.

Guess it wrong & I will off you again.

Righto then. Back to the daydream…

Tell you this: Just because that jar of speed was free sure don’t mean it came Easy.

Just as I moved to slip his funeral gift from Dr. Tweeks into my own sadly empty upper pocket MG TANK woke in a wild jolt from my daydream. Darkly disturbed at the molestation of his bon voyage stash & rudely determined to not have it be.

His fingers curled around my wrist in an icily genuine death-grip. His other hand stretched toward my neck.

“Off my cloud you dumb honky slut!!” TANK shrieked. I crammed my shirt-sleeve into his mouth to muffle his plea. It was no good at all for the whole funeral to know I’d got my hands on TANK’s last prescription. Too many fellow speed-freaks in the crowd. They’d demand to have it for their own.

And when I inadvertently neglected to cough it up the ensuing riot would pose a threat to public safety.

“Yo man!” I whispered frantically. “Don’t Fuck Around — if shit flies off someone might call the police!!”

“Cops??” TANK moaned wearily. “But..that’d be so bogus!!”

My friend wanted to roll over in his grave. But obviously couldn’t since he didn’t have one yet…*

TANK above all did not want Johnny Law to roll out & bust up his one & only funeral. He loosened his grip. Shot me a look that promised to haunt me & then spoke his last words on Earth:

See You On The Dark Side Of The Hobart Transport Portal!

“Word ’em up.” I said. Flipped the pill jar into my pocket. “Bring the Whateverz dude!!”

I strolled away giddily; like the gambler who just cheated & won. Or a little kid on Halloween who just scored the Trick or Treat candy stash from the limp grip of a neighbor –who’d been mauled moments before by a snarling & possibly rabid Mack truck.

Yeah — like thanks for the candy kiddo. Thanks for the candy!

Or maybe like me saying So Long & Thanks:

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Dear Drugs: THANK YOU!! for a real good time..

Fact:

Without illegal drugs, my life, up till & including tonight, would have sucked toast. Way bogus. I mean bad; a total waste of time.

It would have all been so stupid!!

Shit yes. I have problems. My life has been hard. But when I’ve needed them drugs have been there for me. When I had nowhere else to turn it was drugs that saved the day.

Even when my life sucks directly because of drugs it still beats the sad crap out of how bad life would suck with no drugs at all. I will go so far as to say I feel certain I would’ve killed myself long ago if the drugs weren’t on my side.

Why? Because drugs gave me something to live for. A reason to stay awake for another day & night when the sun comes up each morning. Yeah & you know what?

Drugs give me Hope!

Mostly they’ve helped me celebrate life with people I love. I am going to die one day. When I do I’ll look back over this 1 & 3/4 decades-long drug binge and congratulate myself for a job smashingly well done. Yeppers kiddoz! My first hit of weed was the smartest choice I ever made. Until I finally got to check out some of that L$D!!

And when you go without food — due to smoldering abject poverty — for a day or few you will thank Adolph Hitler, Sweet Mother Earth and maybe even Jesus — that evil cocksucker — for all the amphetamines.

So thanks again drugs. Just sorry you had to wear off so soon. Ya’ll come back now y’hear!

Ok. Off to sleep.

NOT!!

HUGE. next level huge

I started to write for audiences in earnest back in 1999. So 8 years. Just under a decade. My goal this whole while: Bust chuckles.

I always think what I write is the funniest thing since me & MG TANK stole that Cadillac convertible and drove it into a swimming pool in what appeared to be Atlantic City. But that’s another story.

I’m not sure if readers share in my giggle fits over every word I write. I like to think so — but by the end of a 70-odd sleepless hour mixed-salt amphetamine binge I really don’t give a hoot. I like to laugh. And my witty snips crack me the fuck up. My hammer-sledge one line funny smack-downs barrel blast my skinny ass to the floor.

Ya know what? My life sucks. I’ve been raped by men & beaten by women. My teeth are two-thirds rotted out of my head. I am intractably unemployable. Been homeless for over a decade of my adult life. Two and one half years — my longest run ever — this time around.

Yep. I’ve said it before and I say it once more: It sucks to be me.

But so what?

I get to write about whatever I want for no reason at all other than to make myself laugh. What luck. I’d be dead if it weren’t for that. No shit.

Die or laugh. Those are the two real choices I’m posed with most days. Laugh or die.

Today I had a third choice. Die. Laugh. Or bask in my greatest to-date literary accomplishment. 8 long years in the making. A pinnacle moment; truly the feat I’ve strove for the long while; since I bought my first lap-top after I made $10,000 cash in a weekend selling freeze-dry alien turds at Woodstock ’99. Another different story. One of my all time favorites though!!

This is the story about one thing my writing — a pro chuckle extractor testament — had yet to do. Until last night that is. The very first time ever that a reader has…

…In his own words (left as a [perfectly smashing] comment to the previous post):

Jay Logic Feb 5th, 2007 at 10:28 pm

Brilliant! I just laughed a piping hot Vanilla latte out of my nose, and all over my girlfriend’s computer monitor!”

I am shit-tickle happy. One of those moments, when I read that, where I could genuinely say “Well Hot Damn — it rocks being Mike E!!

In all these years of finger-tips ground tenaciously into my own little world that lives inside my computer’s keys — listening for the secret to make people laugh so hard they fall down — I have never once, until yesterday, caused a reader to Snarf.

Happy Snarf Day To Me! Happy Snarf Day To Me!!!

No but seriously. I hope it was awesome dude! To celebrate: Jay Logic gets to be the first ever open container speedWay blog Reader of the Week!

It & 3 bucks will get you a Bud Draft or 20 MG’z of addaboyz or a pouch of Top Menthol rolling tobacco!

Well congrat-ya-fucking lations!! You came to the right speedWay.

Zippy Speedwiz Decks Another Couch Cushion

We were somewhere around the last exit before Earth at the edge of the 2nd or 3rd sun up when the drugs began to wear off. I remember saying something like “I’m feeling a bit dark headed — I wish a jar of speed would land on my lap free like pigeon doo out of the sky.”

If the jar was on the other side of the room we’d be done for. Too far. And no question: ours was a K-Hole-deep need for the speed to be free.

A jar of blue 10 Mg Addaboyz bounced into my lap.

“Did we take acid?” Zippie Speedwiz asked. “Must’ve — I hallucinate.”

Then Z. Speedwiz reached for the pills in my lap.

“Hey hey!’ I hollered & leapt out of his arm’s way. “Those aren’t pillows!!

“So they’re drugs for real?”

“Oh frikkity yes!”

“Shit,” Zippy Speedwiz said. Jumped up & clutched a couch cushion. Threw it on the floor and stomped it flat with both his feet. Still not satisfied he lunged to the bathroom & let out one word in a borderline make-believe shriek:

“Toilet!!” He meant to give the evil lint-bag a Swirlie. He gasped excitedly. His own cruelty made him giddy.

But the bathroom was locked. Zip stopped like a hyena in a leg-trap then lunged once more — this time toward the outside door. The July sun blared mercilessly through the slow-dripped morning dew steam.

A dollop of humidity fell from a nearby leaf; a harbinger of the sticky waves of green house heat which inevitably would follow.

Sweat poured from Z. Speedwiz’s ears he was so fucking hot. Couldn’t move. Got the Fear of the abused couch cushion vengefully whooping his ass across the lawn like a badminton birdie. Then it’ll be forever like:

Yo remember the time Zippy Speedwiz was so cracked out & retardo that he god his rump stomped by a pillow?!

Heh heh. He’s so…stupid.

Yeah — well not today. Z whipped out his cord, so to speak, and pissed the pillow into submission. Came back & sat on the couch.

“Dude!” I said. “You pissed on a pillow!! Super cool.”

“Yeah ya know why?” He asked. Popped 40 AddaBoy mg’z from the jar that just fell in my lap from the sky.

“Cause people use that bitch pillow to help them sleep?” I proffered.

I heard a laugh & looked up. A head hung over the stairway rail directly above the couch. The face had a mouth that grinned hugely. Obviously pleased as spiked punch with her own coolness. Plumb giddy that she’d contributed to the delinquency of the already hopelessly delinquent. Right when — without those pills — we might have got tired in the next 12 or 18 hours & maybe had to sleep.

Zippy Speedwiz dropped three sets of cheap sunglasses over his eyes & waved like an astronaut or a race car driver.

“Where we’re going,” He assured everyone. “We don’t need PILLOWS!!”