Hall of the Monkey King

do you need to read this , or this first? what else have you got to do? i've got no links for you. ________________________________________________ A policeman once told me, up to ten people is a gathering, more than that is a party. There was a small party gathering at my house. Amidst the mini-throng of unfamiliar faces at the end of my driveway was a splash of friend here and there. Fester was among them and he was one of my closest friends at the time. The skate-rats called him Fess. A few things you should know about Fess. He was thin and carried himself in an oddly skewed manner. His hair was long and arranged in such a way as to almost but not quite resemble seaweed, ragged and swept by random tides. And yet, there was something there that beckoned to the ladies. At certain points in time there were literally girls lined up to lay claim on him. But this story is not about him or his women, that is for another time. For now, all you need to know is that he was there. Anoth

it isn't necessary, but you could read this one first. they aren't connected, but they are both pieces of the same story. ________________________________________________+ +________________________________________________ A brick in each hand, pressed together in a harsh rub, a pile of grit on the floor, that grit, that is the history between my father and I. Fond is not a word I would use when I define my memories. If I were to choose one, it would be 'hard'. I couldn't tell you if there aren't any good memories or I just don't recall them. Brief bursts of light did come in the form of stories of the Monkey King, which my dad told us as children. Throughout our relationship, it was pressure, tension, resistance, anger and fear, which grew, evolving into rage, lunacy, rebellion and rejection. Recently it has come to settle on acceptance and there is a part of me that is glad for it. As I grew older a series of unspoken rules became established. If, for exa

i would like to apologize for this lopsided site of mine...i had originally intended to have something over there to your right, but i'm a procrastinator and lazy so now you must suffer. i mean it...start suffering...now! i've recently acquired a new job. my old one had worn through. it's not that the new one is worse than my last (not much could beat that crappy nonsense), there are people i know who haven't worked there in years who still harbor much hatred for the general manager who ran the joint*. i just think that this new one is not really a good match for who i am. that said...the other day i was on the phone assisting a potential client....heh...who was having a rather rough day, apparently. we were discussing her husband's occupation, which was a construction worker who "you know erects those things in the highway...those things...what are they called....those erections" she proceeded to repeat the word "erections" five or six more tim

it seems my posts aren't good enough for some people.... hmmph... here my fox shark friend misc links exploding toads pig drawing personality test human to data to art crib sheet for men i got a 100 on the color test who doesn't like an elephant rampage story unbelievable pen tricks games cat cannon 1669.24 beat that! Ninjas!! these make me feel uncomfortable (not work friendly) this is messed...seriously ugh! i just ate in princeton the other night memory game involving um.... what the ?#!!@? . that's too intense bukkake cookie oh dear lord....what have we become ouch

"Are you on the pot?" This was the noise that would enter our ears were we to do anything perceived as odd. And most of what we did was. It always brought to mind some vague imagery of ignorance from the Reefer Madness era. I'm sure it probably gave some insight into this man with a mad scientist's facade, but I wouldn't let it affect me. Probably I shrugged it off in my leather jacket manner. There were many peculiar aspects to him. The entire movie Alien had been absorbed by me in bits and pieces. When he wasn't lurking and accusing he was doing a good impression of a piece of furniture in front of the tv, watching this same movie, over and over and over again. What a strange existence that must be. The first time I met his wife she greeted me with, "I'm catching flies....for my lizard." Well, I took it as a greeting. I never saw the lizard but she was chasing flies never the less. Once, the story goes, she dropped her glasses into the lake, an

so i was going to type up a little nonsense i wrote while i was at work. still too new to feel comfortable blogging from my desk. IT nazis could be lurking somewhere in the script. however, i felt the need to vent a moment. so in formal blogging tradition, i've opted for 'the list'. 1) not winning the lottery. this never fails to piss me off. 2) people who assume they know what i'm about to say and interrupt me by telling me i should never assume anything. yeah....once i get a pimp stick i will be backhanding the bitches. 3) people who bitch about something, then when the one responsible for it shows up, they continue to bitch just so the one responsible can overhear and know just how truly rude and inconsiderate they really are. again....pimp sticks and backhands. 4) drivers that slow down at a green light. i just do not understand, is it because color blind people can't distinguish between red and green? 5) not winning the lottery. really....this pisses me o

on again and off again. i remember when i used to play my guitar as if it was the only thing keeping me alive. i'm surprised i never named her. every day, i doted on her for a least an hour or two. i remember nights when the desire to play tore me from slumber. 9 hours later i would be arpeggiating like some madman, doing 8 or 9 fret stretches and sweeping like i never will again. it was euphoric. i had been in several bands, none of which amounted to anything. then while i was wasting an education i found a new band. to be honest, i originally hadn't thought they were that great, not bad, just not something that i lost sleep over. one day though, i discovered 'the groove'. up to this point we had been 5 people playing together. i think i had been entranced, we all had. how else could you explain why we played the same song for 45 minutes straight. music took on new dimensions and textures for me that day, and i have never been able to hear it the way i had before. the

this thing has been fuckin' with me. he wants to fill his pool with rubber ducks looking for a date? walmart has the answer he drove his car into the dmv. that's right...into...and then renewed his license i guess this is cool... .extreme hacky sacking ... here.... tickle this girl they must know....right? if you're at work....close the door dick and jane pigtail and a video of as many japanese girls as possible trying to fit into a phone booth.....nekkid and seriously, what is up with injecting liquids into penises? why is that even an idea? hey, i had no idea half of those music links on the left were dead. how come you didn't tell me? ok i put some new ones up

ok....so there have been a large number of people who have found my site looking for "midget bodybuilders" i didn't think that was so popular but then...what do i know. my favorite search to land on my site was "conspiracy of anemic masturbators". there have been a few "tony danza's tap dance extravaganza". a number of 'monkey' references. even a "crackheads and tooth decay" search. but what the hell? someone just found my site looking for "injecting liquids into penis"! what's up with that?

Like a fetid dream given form, I pass through in a cloud of sedated disbelief. Shambling through the dreck of reality, I wonder when the glamour rubbed off. I wonder when the empty of within stained the without. Or maybe it's the other way around. Draped in doubts, a shroud woven from some distant cousin to distrust, with which I've hidden myself, I while away my days, wrapped in some strange somber solace. I used to get lost just so I could find myself. There was a comfort, in being found. A peace that came with knowing, right from wrong, left from right. An anchor, to hold me through the maelstrom. ====================================================== I don't know when it happened. It seems my brain has redefined itself. Dreams used to slop about in my head leaving wisps behind for me to muse upon, vivid and lucid. Once, I saw the end of the universe....twice. I remember a homeless man trying to sell me meat. It was green, and gave the air a dirty tang. He needed m

first off....go here...and vote for my sister's band.... The Flying Club . ok then go here to hear my friend recite some poetry. umm...i'm not sure how it works...but it will be up on Sun. ok now go on and play with some links i can't believe you can buy this on amazon. jesus bling! this is pretty cool right here. a solar death ray ! if you've ever wanted to pet a llama ....well.... weird game where you're a girl with a pair of legs coming out of your ass. (nudity) cool two player shooter game . i may have linked this before.... condiment collection this guy is selling a wallet made out of duct tape Long Duck Dong ! hahaha.... ducks ...hehehe what is up with these ducks ? dirty origami i'll never be a sniper ...sigh this is ..... i dunno ....amazing? (NUDITY) no wait, this is amazing!! (BRUCE LEE!) addicting bubble popping game i think this is a game .... some ggg-gmail ... this is pretty cool....wish i knew what was going on what ? again.... what

Boonton is a town that is trying. It has something of a main street, it has one block's worth of "the hood", it has an observatory, it has some memories. It also has a road that will lead you to Split Rock. Depending on the path you choose, you could end up in populated neighborhoods, or you might find the road vanishing beneath you changing to rubble. This is Split Rock Road, this is the infamous single lane road that stretched to Hibernia. This is the road that had damaged the vehicles of those chased off by the crazed man with the shotgun. This is the road that crossed the bridge that death clung to. Tales lined up to be dispensed and depending on who was doing the telling the hue could move from the diaphanous to the opaque to some shiftless indescribability. The mafia disposed of bodies up here, occultists practiced diabolical things, communities of inbred albinos lived in ramshackle huts half buried in the earth. When you cross the bridge gangs would block you in an

originally, there was to be the next bit of story concerning 'split rock'. but i haven't constructed it yet. so i would like to direct you to two other things of interest instead. firstly, i've added a link to the left. but you can just click here if you like. secondly, here's a bit of news , in case you missed it. we may return to our regularly scheduled program. or maybe not. ADDENDUM: also please go end get some hot zombie action over here . he's got links to former strippers.