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The reviews were in and as usal all were pretty much what I expected .
the crittics were so dam hurtful course what do you expect from a teenage windbag
who cant take a **** without posting on twitter how terrible life is.

But much like the **** on his hundred dollar sneaker's made in a sweatshop
by someone who makes ten cents a day .
There words much like there sad little yuppie cast life's  seldom amounted
to a pimple on the worlds ***.

What kind of tormented hampster take's glee in cussing out
a semi insane  carear criminal with a rap sheet that reads longer
than one of thoose Harry Potter books.

Being a man  of  much free time and plenty of found cash.
I decided to vist a crittic of mine.
And what better place to vist than a sunny state with not enough brains
to convict a woman who kills her own kid yes that true think tank
of complete dipshits Florida.

As  my plane touched I down payed close attention to my target I mean crittic.
It seemed he was versed in many hobies a few including.
Taking pictures of himself and his homies with there shirts off
wow no wonder this hampster was viewed so much by older gentlemen who run the site.

He also liked tiedie shirts and beer well honestly who doesnt the beer I mean.
Unless your a steriod fed pro wrestler or ***** hippie who wears that **** when there sober?

The name much like most things I could give a **** about seldom stayed with me.
Cause much like the hampster im writting about  honestly was as about as forgetable
as that night I spent with his mom ohhhh snap.

He was in a cult and it was a cult that had millions of followers
the cult of the yuppie spoiled ******* for which he was the states chapter president.
hey what can I say he was a good worker course that's what the guy bathroom
that used to be a politcian said dam you Sonny Bono  why  did you ever break
up Peaches and Herb!

But enough with the foreplay children.
It was bright as hell outside warm and annoying with all the people on the ******* sidewalk
Jesus man take the wheel im trying to mix a drink.

After some brief sidetracks what?
I figure why not   **** on a place thats biggest mark is hurricanes and ******* conventions
oh yeah and people who cant convict people who ****** good thing cause this vist was gonna be a breeze.

I stood at the door that stood at the gate that stood befor me and stood befor
my verbal punching bag locked in his yupie fortress.
Yes sir are you expected  the guard asked me.

Honestly no sir I wasnt but thats what happens when  a loose woman make's bad choices.
As usal like in the cases of most people that come from that clan we call normal.
he just looked at his list and prayed I would leave.

Sir Im gonna have to ask you to leave.
I knew this man's logic but seldom do I let sense and reason get in the way of a good
time or a Gonzo on a mission to payback a Yuppie ***** who much like his work
I often forget.
But hey look on the bright side when ya run outta toilet paper you always have
something to wipe your **** with.


The man kept asking yet like most people I simply ignored
his pleas.
Let me ask you sir what did the face say to the floor?
The man paused thought and as the tasser bit into his neck
and as his body went as limp as the states thought process
i kinda had to feel bad as he hit the pavement with a thud.

Im kidding I like I care?
Past the point of no return and little reason I was yet at the main door.
Were little now what was his name hmmmm  oh yeah young ***** Bagginns
called home.

Why you should have seen the suprize in his eye's
when he looked up from his coloring book to see his favorite
person to talk ***** about.

Or herd the screams   as his little **** was thrown into the wood chipper
hmm oddly enough red really wasnt his color.
Im kidding I didnt **** him right away hell that would take all the fun out of are little get togather.

And besides i bought all this kickass stuff at the hardwear store.
He kicked and cried.
For the love of facebook and texting i didnt mean it im sorry!
I was deaf to his cries for hours the torture went on.

And  just when he had hit the point of total agony I did the most cruel act of them all.
Well my friend time for a little TV.
What how the ***** that torture you idiot ?
Seems this little hampster still had some fight in him.

I pressed play and what appeared apon the screen was a horror so cruel it pains my long winded **** to
write it well maybe not.
Justin Bieber appeared on the screen.
Hey guess what ***** Ive set it on loop.

From the top of his lungs he screamed like a young school girl who fell victem to this
Pagan God.
Nooooooooo anything but that.

As I made my exit from his lare slash basement he somehow managed to muster all his yupie strength
breking his bonds a bolted like a yuppie cheatah he was to fast he had reached the shotgun befor
I knew dear lord! this was it I was gone for sure.

I cant take it anymore!
The sound was beyond words.
The celling was covered in yuppie sludge.
I felt myself was I dead?
Hey they got all the channels on this satelite kickass.
As I sat lost in my private time i had to wonder was it wrong
to target little spoiled shites that bully others and shouldnt we just try to reach out and understand one another?

Yeah ***** that what am I Dr Phil?
I have to admit young ***** really was cool now he lay dead on the floor and you seem so more open minded.

Course being it's blown  off it seems to help.
I laughed I cried I ordered like five hundren dollars in adult films on young ****** satilite.
Hey I was celebrating his life and staining his couch.
You cant put a price on revenge duh.

And as i bolted from that State dumping the corpse in the Everglades.
I had to wonder what drives a young ******* to cross a old drunk hampster
like myself ?  

Well like I was really conserned I was way to buzy enjoying the gators rip the
young no talent **** to shreds.

Note to crttics get a life and avoid me or I might be making a road trip to a city
near you!
Yes someones gonna get hurt and it's not gonna be me.

Stay crazy hampsters
Dedicated to a certain little hampster who belives cussing people out is being a crittic.
Heres the thing if you dont like me then dont read me.
He waited the sad ***** broken in what seemed like a fool who sits on the traintrack
Feeling the rail knowing full well what is coming cant be stopped yet still
they stand.

It didnt take a writers eye to read the reply I knew it from the moment the poor
sap got down on one knee.
Like was never ment for love as a torment was never ment to be cast in a ******* fairytales
happy ending.

I felt no need to listen further for like some old stage hand I knew the
actors lines by heart.
Why were sappy ******* always drawn to heartless ******* I could never understand.
I guess for the reason worthless ******* always seemed to get the one's that
were to dam nice used them like doormats and turned them into the flawed gems
we knew and adored as well.

Maybe if only his ears herd truth instead of dellusion he'd find a much easier path.
I never wait for a reply and seldom care to ask.
I deal in truth I play no game just show my cards and care less if im holding better than the next.
Games are for fool's and old farts who gather to swap war stories and yern for the days
when yesterday  was uncertin yet always a adventure.

She wouldnt reply with what he wanted and he would be the fool a clown
left behind by the circus  just a out of place reject  wearing oversized shoes.
Some belive in it some also know desperate acts only serve a vain person's ego.

It's better to be jaded in sight than a sap for a cruel ******* amusement.
But being a ******* I know her thoughts all to well.
And as the night does erase the light the curtains fall will just
promise another act apon life's stage.

Avoid the people who's hearts have been cast of stone.
Course if you choose to do so you'll probaly  not have to many friends.
Course I never did give a **** cause that just leaves more drinks for me.

He waited for her reply and as the words hit like a landslide.
He sat numb frozen in a sea  of embaressment.
And in the aftermath of rejection he sat at the bar  running it through his thoughts.
I poured a triple sat it in front of the man along with a bottle for company.

And as always became deaf to the bleeding hearts conversation.
Thank God for closing time.

Im the stage hand of lifes over written play a bartender who's herd every version of the
same old song.
If you have to wait never yern for the reply.


Stay crazy Gonzo
Some probaly view my work as jaded  and as ****** up as it's writer .
But Ive lived what i write not write what I belive it would be like.
You cant dip your toe in the water of this life and sometimes there's
More depth in what others belive to be a shallow stream.
Two strangers pass both moving in seperate directions.

Eye's tell  the stories and give a glimpse like a windows from a highways view

view apon a cold night's drive.



Giving only a view of what seconds can make us belive.

Two eye's meet a vision of a story not worthy of the first

act of play.



Perfume apon the wind.

Her scent of jasmine blessed  a stale evenings breeze.

Two strangers pass speaking only a well ment hello

but nothing more.



Thoughts as they are give hope in a truely hopeless sense.

Two strangers pass then fade into there live's.

Never to meet again.



And with a times movement the moment does all but vanish

from thought.



Two strangers passed who once held each other as lover's

of secret with passion's covered in perfect dellusion.



This night two seperate directions set the stage of my lives eternal

traggic play.



Two strangers passed to give what once  burned so

very deep.

As fools these same two strangers gave it all away.
The bottles were scattred monuments to beaten livers and bad decisions.
I awoke like any other morning okay afternoon hungover and to void of ***** to deal with
hampsters or flying monkeys .

The agony was what I was used to but the ringing in my head was altogather a diffrent matter.
it grew louder that constant annoying ring and to my suprize much like the voices in my head after my
usal sixpack and half pint of Wild Turkey it was still there.

It rang and rang and caused such a clatter I had to finally get up off my **** and see what the **** was the matter.
I opened the door to the pub to be met by a bright light jesus christ it was the rapture or one of thoose other
big hippie rock festivals dam you  lalapalooza!

But it was just then I remebred to put on my sunglasses.
That huge annoying lightbulb was a cruel ***** indeed.
Now in the realm of what most called the outdoors the noise was clear and to my suprize it was some
strangley dressed ****** slash recruiter for the Forein Legion or Salvation Army really whats the diffrence
ya see one fashion cult ya seen em all ohh snap!


The woman kept ringing the bell as if in some weird trance and like some strange witch she stood by a kettle
dear Lord! what if she was putting a curse on us all.

Hello sir care to make a donation?
It seems I could pay to keep the witch at bay why hadnt i thought of this scheme myself.
In a slurred voice i spoke to the witch in her native tongue most people call it english.
For ?
I said in a naughty school girl way inwhich a ***** ses to the teacher when she wants good grades
or a ride home with a happy ending.

It's to help the needy on Christmas.  
It seesm the pagan was raising funds for one of her bizzar rituals.
being the reporter with the heart of gold and not grain of sense I asked her to speak of this
strange custom.

It seems as though her good had had one to many and made another little hampster
so far this God sounded like someone I could enjoy a drink with.
Then he called on his homeboys to vist the little dude and give him some totally useless
gifts hope they kept the reciets cause ***** that crap give me a gallon of Turkey and a Xbox

She rambled on with her fairy tale and how now people seem to all give things to one another
On this strange holiday .
Boy like that will ever catch on sister .

She jingled her bell as i jumped and screamed like a little girl a very manly little girl may i add
dear lord woman !
That noise you may use your magic to scare other's into paying you but when I pay
a woman it usally ends in *** okay almost always.

She looked at me deepley she must have been undersing me with her eyes i felt so ***** in the right kinda way.
But enough with the foreplay children.
Are you insane?

The witch asked in a angry voice her grip on her bell tighten she spoke again.
get outta here  you ******.
Yeah i know she was totally into me.

Witch I know you've cast a spell on me so why toil with your silly made up holiday scheme.
Of all the pubs you could have decided to hook in front of you picked the home of
Hello's favorite guilty pleasure .
I say we cut through this silly spell  **** and go into the bar and i give you the most forgetable experience of your life.
Hey as long as im happy thats all that counts kids.

She paused caught deep in the moment then asked whats Hello?
Oh that was a site that used to be really fun and now really isnt.
She paused yet again pulling in her magic purse often used by witches
and candy **** singers like Justin Bieber!

She pulled from it some magic spray that blinded me.
the pain was terrible i herd her blow a whistle  lucky whistle.
Calling her warlocks who I feared were powerful and *****.

Soon I  found myself locked in a dungeon with other strange people all under spells.
there was a man dressed as a pagan God calling himself Santa
Seems he liked to play with his candy cane in public.
Yeah who doesnt?

The days passed and i was put through a horrible torture worse than having
to watch the O network or listening to Justin Beiber that musiacal ****.
I went days without  my ***** i was put into a strange state called sober.

Finally the curse was lifted as the guard showed me out he informed me
it was cause it was Christmas .
Dear lord !
The witch had  cast her spell over the world.

So as I sit in the confines of my Pub whiskey flowing like water.
I've learned beware of this bell ringing witch and her tales of strange Gods
and give or fall victem to her charms as did I.

Untill next time stay crazy hampsters.
As we pass time cast the shadow can you bare the light?

A cold breeze and warm thought times a ******* child we embraced

two misfits lovers of the moment sweetheart does it ever cross your thought's.



Time passes marked by the old clock on the wall.

my past is a thought fools seldom cast aside a good dellusion.

She was warm in arms that held emptyness so very well.



Songs no matter there heart must all fade.

Depth in the shallow watres of *** a reflex cant take the place of a life.

So she went a distant path but we still see that moment clear in nighst dark she cast my heart a moment of life in seconds of death.



Fall your burden to gather like kids outside a vacant lot.

***** the ghost's lets find some new demons to share.

Winter my mistress why must you  hang in thought like a tatred picture apon my thoughts wall?



Dust to gather in mind sniffed in the shared confines with a dark mind and easy lay.

No matter the price still we must pay.

Bitter  times and a moment will always fade the wind of kiss ice of my eternal storm.



A dead hero and a tight body to feed a eye's thirst lets sell are soul for some

spare change and a moment to ******* erase it all please lay in these arms and

hate for loves sake.



Lush spring brought me her snow bound canvas will the painters hand

ever remain  still  to create the perfect flaw.



Cracked ice soon we all must crash.

The honey my dear is always worth the sting.

please cast the eye's jaded in perfection befor you go.



One moment of devilish warmth befor winters passion must leave me to her always

promised chill.
I always see them in dark shadows and whispers of uneven conversation I stand

steady as always.

Unsteady hand may you bare one last confession do you care to reflect the image we no longer recall.

Raindrops apon empty streets bare a haunting tone ive grown numb from such feel and loss.



You ask to see my soul but would you stay for just a little while befor?

Im ash of flames once bright embers are all that remain.

lovers are markers ive long since seen fade in a perfect sunsets pain please will you stay to

care for the child in the clown and the old fools emptyness will wash that pain as storm's

clear my past to heal my pressent if you will.





They never see i am but trash in the gutter a stain soon to be forgotten from thought.

We may embrace for a second please dont ask if im okay.

Sometimes stars no longer shine but skies seldom fall.



Winters of  turmoil echo in empty chambers often called thought.

And the burbon my cast to sheild a wound I refuse to heal.

Fools often regress so as you pass i understand no wave just a look through ive grown to except.



Oceans apart will you stay if not for one last drink asked as a child begs a parent just till

Im asleep.

I see them in shadows faces once known to many and cherished by me .

Old ghosts surround and as I prolong i understand i must join them

even the blind can see.



And as to my back it paints a farwell to a never to be filled door.

Tommorow they come to chase the past for even i must one day give up my seat.



To fast ive lived now slow must I die.

Faded watercolors still cast images  that caress the heart of another who will

understand the yerning to stay.



Stars under darkest night  understand one less burns .

We are but canvas so may mine be relived by fires glimmer of soon faded light
The neon kisses the sidewalk below embracing strangers as they pass
in all directions none seem towards home.
***** sidewalks and the slums splendor Im a gatekeeper of despair and hard
luck just living for the bells chime to echo from the counter.

Drunks and ****** gather within my confines the outcasts of the night my people
seldom will I ever know more than a signature upon the page.
Moths drawn together attaracted by neon light.
Tommorows not a promise so embrace feeling and grow numb in reflex for now.


Are we not twisted from exposher numb from the streets brutal truth?
I count the hours a television for companion a bottle a often short staying vistor
who's welcome till the hangover's regret.

Some pills to drive my thoughts and a fresh *** of coffee to fuel my engine
tIme kills even the most unfaded of us all.
And through the night they gather some to escape the cold others for a quick escape
or fast **** to forget as if in a Halloween costume soon they'll return to there true act
of a life.

Embrace as lover's when there nothing more than roomates hey kids were doing great
you coming home for Christmas this year?
And so they like well trained actors reprise there roles.

But i see there mess allnight I collect the rejects nothing more but fragments
glass that reflect what they wish could never be.
If only we could rewind.
But life's highway cant be retraced so on we roll.

I  collect there money and take down there names the keeper of memories
tattered wings fly none the less.
As for the women the far away stares are but shared thoughts of a misery
more bitter we drink from the same passed down glass.

Some things just don't have to be said to be understood.
The nights my watch my vices fuel me for yet another round.
the neon signs my beacon And the moths glide to flame with the turning of the switch.

Were all ****** up but seldom can some show the flaws .
I embrace them unspoken please sign here.
Tommorows walk we'll pretend to not see for we all need to feel
invisible sometIme.

The end of my shift bids farewell to my collected chaos tired we've become in constant
recollection the light is off for now.
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