Game Rules: The Complete Edition

Sick of these players
Don’t know how to play

In the world of interpersonal espionage passive-aggressiveness is a keen tool for any would be asshole agent. It allows a mate to transgress but only ever so slightly while avoiding outright confrontation, and therefore- avoiding blowing your cover. To vent such frustrations without real issues being detected is the aim of any under cover ossifer. It allows a man (or woman) to live comfortably in complete contradiction of his standards, his morals, and whatever other inclinations he may incline to. Allowing him (or her) the ability to speak, believably (and nearly honestly), to his enemy, such phrases as: “I love you”, “No, I want to have a baby”, or even “how ’bout a pickle?”.

Aussie Osiers

I’m a scooby doo in a room full of normals

Ahh how distinctly I recall
In the celebrated Fall
Of antiquities in Man
Brush off the lash, my brethren
And arose, a dark and lonely sort
Clung Winter laden Snow White Fort
To the best of her armaments
That weeping Spring sweet lament
That boldness was wiser, and wiser bolder
That Summer when Love unstrapped at the shoulder
Oh how distinctly I recall, those were the days,
Those were the days,

It was a lateness in the spirit with which whom he fought within him, thought long and hard, passively seeking attention. He russled underneath his blankets, a subway machine gun running, “then you better go and catch it”. The disease got the best of me, the sharpest Wit, the grandest Dance, I was in a twirl with my livelihood and I whisked it away from me once again.

On the Interpersonal stage, self-sabotage, one of the most formidable and most prone to fatalism, instrument of a most dangerous and suicidal nature, rewarding in a losing kind of answer to a question you shouldn’t be posing anyway, the most dream-lusty hound doggy of them all, The Pit Bull of the Despair herself “Queen Bitch” of the The David Bowie Knives” raining down and everything fans goin’ nuts, goin’ wild and me there gettin’ frisky in me underbits and chompin’ on T’rangers. Minding my loneliness and in walks this wanker wavin’ his Ayn Rand in me face. But that’s another yargle for another time. Anyway the The Dog Show was knockers anyhow.

I’m turning into a nasty bit of loneliness without my darling dear with another darling here, I’m a freakishly lax and amiable guy that pretends on pretension , presents pleasantly and would love to be martyred for your cause. There’s a stillness here in the beehive, but humming honey hymnally and him-like there’s an over stressing of the tongue and writing long sentences that can never end well, unless of course you’ve got great big ol’ bouncy breath with which to carry me, all the way home. I’m articulately gesticulating with my jaw bone yammering my manners with my meticulous molecules of memory that grant me the power to pull from my lips, the teeth the tip of the tongue and that is how we breathe, through the roof of the mouth, through the nasal canal, ears, or vaginal and anal cavities, out with the placenta and eleven times in the eye. Coloring outside the lines are permitted and of course, endorsed by all parties. A bi-partisan effort, and a decisive victory for The American President from America, lapels were out this weekend flashing’ fashionable Patriots Pins, and it took a Wide Receiver and a HAM radio to take these babies down, A horror story claimed the childhoods of three cardinal, priests, cardinal of course being the Latin word for Chesterus Hemolestedus The third, a Geek Prophet of the third century who allegedly leaked information to 3rd world children hidden in his Norwegian Wooded Caves, would lick the parts off cats and dogs and regurgitate it for his offspring, mostly though he just touches buttholes… Not always politely.

Where was I?
No I wrote this earlier
Where was I?
Later gator,

Talented? You want to talk about Talented?
My client has talent comin’ out of his ears!
No, truly.
His earwax, it’s magnificent I tel ya,
Lick your finger, wiggle it in his ear a bit, you can stick it in your own ear or wear it like a lollipop on your finger, and suck it like your grand pappy.
It’s nuts! Listen to me, listen to me, have I ever lied to you,
Hey, hey, you’re not listening here! I want a bit more of your attention here, and I tell you, i tell you- don’t you with fuck me, don’t you fuck with me Bob! I will fuck you, I will fuck you so hard, so hard, you won’t shit right for weeks Bob, you won’t shit right for weeks!
Yea you like that don’t ya. Yea you like it when I talk Brooklyn to you girl, talk Jersey to you, call you a Girl Bob, you like it when I call YOU the girl., like it when I talk down to you like I’m a talent agent, like to get on top of the phone and start yelling “Fuck You!” Into the microphone as loud as humanly possible and rip out the chord because it’s a chorded phone because I’m actually at my grandma’s and she doesn’t believe in Cell Phones and it’s an antique that I bought her at a yardsale for three bucks but She loves it more than me because the phone will never leave her, never walk out the door but keep looking back to see if someone is chasing them but they’re not and it’s broken, because you made me so angry that I ripped out the cord because you ripped out my heart and I’m bleeding and lonely and killing myself on the shower floor wearing my clothing because I don’t want them to find me naked and see my Golden Girls tattoo all gone to waste like that, what a shame… It was perfect. And you ruined it because you got me hot Bob, you got me hot. And when my temperature rises so does my heart rate and I would have exploded but thankfully and regrettably you were there to perform open heart surgery on the corner of Fifth and Seventh. Bob, it’s over, move on. We can’t do this again, you’re killing me. Alright, see you Friday, bye, yeah, uh huh, yep, gotcha. Great, good-, yeahp, yup, goo-, good, goodbye, sure, ya, bye. That’ll be $3.50 for your time. Ciao!

… And that ladies and Gentlemen is how you make a sale in this department!

In the hamper I left a creature with eyes like ties and feet like shirts, tangled up in the blouses ears like bras and whispy little zipper fingers. Chews on cats and pick up Lego bars and makes a teeth of them into a mouth collecting nickels and dimes.

And that ladies and gentlemen is how you get your knickers lost. It never even made it to the wash cycle it was garbled up by The Haunted Hamper, heaps of flannel dreams have seemed to unseam at the seam it seems, right off the hook and it’s wrinkled it’s way out of existence, a wrinkle in the fabric of time, bold mold gets a hold of your breath, dries out the smiles pigstyles for miles of caky, ripping dress. With big mean nasty ol’ teeth. I warned ya, but no, not you, oh no
Not you…

I think the universe has been sending me some really mixed messages recently. I mean they’re definitely messages from the divine and infinite nature of the universe, a word from the beyond. But I don’t know whether i should obey the Jesus picture in my toast that wants me to forgive Ted all his past transgressions and just love him as The Lord commands or if I should listen to the Acorn that fell in front of me over on Theodore Lane, right next to New Avenues, that I should retreat into the bunker for a few years til the impending nuclear holocaust blows over and we can talk civilly again over bonfires eating the trappings of the day. I mean I was a Girl Scout goddammit! I didn’t bake those cookies. But seriously am I crazy here? He never rubs my foot massager, he won’t even put holes in his paper bag so he can look at me. I’m so heavy right now, I mean my flow is crazy, I gushed blue again and I’m afraid he’ll leave me if he finds out I came up with the rap jingle for blueberry “Gushers” you know how sensitive I am about commercial hip hop, ever since Biggie died. Oh god. I’m so horny right now and no one else will wear paper bags but him.

Don’t you think it’s a little odd he wears a bag over his head all the time?

That’s part of his persona, he’s building a rap career based around school lunches. It’s really great.

But he never takes it off…

I like it.

I’m telling you.

I know…

(Together) “once you go bag”

Meredith: …you never go back.

Charlie: I know, I just…

Meredith: I know.

Charlie: okay.

I’m really comfortable right now and the only problem is that he doesn’t think it’s a problem! What a cad!

Drop it like it’s hot home girl

Ok home slice

I’m hungry, where’s our home fries?

I know right?

I can’t wait til all the stories ever told will have been told again on television so I can resell a retell at retail for real for the rest of my life. There are no characters here, there aren’t any left to fill, but characters are always welcome, whenever they come back.

If only I could win a million likes on Facebook, I’d probably name my child Batman get a dog named Roofie and start my rap career. I don’t like guns, unless they’re bangarang and fires grappling hooks… I’m afraid of what dope will do to me, probably start feeling up premadonnas like a Virgin,
Jump out of windows and place my self in bodily harms way. But I do like the mask, I could be like Doom, but more friendly, I’d like to keep it educational. I’m really hungry. Maybe I am a starving artist, I just want mom to make me lunches everyday, in a bag… Golly Gee, a memory of an idea that I had when I was four! Brown Paper Bag Man! Delicious apples, bananas with Nutella, what’s the name of it they had them on the Telly. Ask Gary. He saw it. I’m angry and I’m not gonna take it anymore.

In the laundromat 5 pairs of pants, 11 pairs of socks, 8 pairs of underwear, lost count instead of socks.


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