Ganja Bling

A man is chased by super natural forces in the guise of woman that can converge into One deity after a few enormous dust devils from mountainlions supersized, this time she's with fifty one zombies on Harleys. This is usually the time to get the sword cane out of the trunk, but then there are superstings and quantum mechanics at work with the wind, sky and earth. I remember when I sunk into the earth for the very first time. Full moon. I have this other pitch, from six other scripts about making a pact with the devil, but I'm over it. I need fresher relish. Reverand K was the first to really explain the formula's, futuramo!! When there's a bug to burn, then useless nothings get up and light my cigarro, with lightening or turn and "run with the money". He is a womanizer that sits and talks to experinced woman who were once famous like Edy Williams on her patio, in the fall of Hollywood Hills, overlooking the City of Lights. Also there's Diamond Dan, that, like the words of Nietzche, is unfathomable fingers that know where the unlocked Doors are and these secret covenous bars can become a Showdown !! For this character though its a wierd scrimmage. Or maybe she likes to dance for him nude or he likes to dance for her in survival fashions. I've got ideas that match mathematics undertone and becomes a migration. Proof is "show me the money" and he carries this metallic suitcase the looks like it will go offfff to a new paradise? O and there are lots of woman parts included but ther's also the definition of love in a dictionary, thats a beautiful shiny midnight flicker of a black lab with an angelic emblem on the breast, and fangs. He growls like a beast to, in a hard drive after lots of days and sometimes foams at the mouth like a beserker surrounded with no options, darting eyes looking for the invisible screen, thunder and lightening empowers the bold and awakens the sky, on top of a hill in the desert. The next relic is for keeps.

Zombie

Thousands of them in my dream, blood posse, droogs, flower bite, moon bringer, dogdie style, total crash upside down like the Hang Man with a flower dryed. War smock with skulls dancing out the dawn that turns Black with tar dripping, single fang found in the voodoo box. Candle spit at me, he's the King of them, looks just like Me, torn up, mangrove, Hex with her tits big, bigger, biggest, she would make a great stripper but she bites off your head!!! After she has sex she walks to the drawer and pulls out the biggest pistol I've seen and shoots the stud in the heart. His hard on is still rigid like a post that marks the territory, the demon promised entertainment with the bodys hanging off of hooks, women chained like that paper back book I exchanged entitled Gor the tribesman or something like a smoke, hash, fresh scented opium, little red tar baby and blood. She wanted to unite me, fcuk wrong speel I over cast on the moon and beamed it on to Me, shit, bloomy like dead, bowl of grapes by the big fire, ugly stars burning smelly incense, where's my pack of wild dogs? Here?!?Q?R!! Fucker cause I can smile the lame barrier that is mercury, I put my hand through the ground and lit my upside down cross, took a good hit with that ghostly smilling chick with leather chaps, her pussy is shaved like the moon, I don't dare to touch anything but myself. Now the burning meal in my blood, now the vortex in my base, the throbbing kundalini, my arms are handed over to some monster that I can't see. 'Candle, Candle', she whispers and then I feel her breath strip me ........,

Selfish Dope

Coyote's sound like Indians high on peyote, its spooky when they gather and sing. I'm working on my own sorcerer's song to match the wild locust, crickets soothe my damaged senses, the scream of a rabbit sounds like a little kid, eulogy's in different shape's and size's. Everybody think's they know what's good for you, and it's all subversive look in the salad world of watering your weeds because their nothing. Tear off your muffler cause you didn't seperate your garbage. Do motorcross instead off running with your tight ass. Enlightenment is about as interesting as condoms that do all the work for you, just lay and smile at the heavens getting ready to crash. I think we should turn our livelihood into a enormous Rave then we would have the perfect excuse for being drug induced. I mean sugar is a shitty high along with the caffiene. Transformations only occur, when there's a triggered response within the biological marix of our being. The hard wiring is not you, nobody works for anyone thats the rule that I live by. Worry, money, murder, madness, a ferrari blown to smithereens out of speed. Cultural icons are new buttons reorganized cause religion sucks my lefty. So many herds, herdling, headed, born again, pushing, joining and satisfied with a ridiculous life. Imagine turning something upside down and see if you survive the fall. Back to bordello's for the saucer and the sausage, back to being aloof with the fabric of design, back to tackling the devil on the cool midnight grass, back to delivery's for the mad angel forgotten in her space age, back to smiling and counting buds, back to yours and the winner is some mother fucker thats already in with the good guys. Anarchy and pentacles, computer chips and stars, diamonds and monsters, flowers and nude pictures, me and the world, you and the sky, births, bricks and bread, driving, driving, desert, rocks, HWY 171, cedar, aspen, pine and lightening !!!!!!!