I hereby officially announce my pre-candidacy for Times Man of the Year, 2011. I'm going to grow into my cherished national icon staus slowly. grow into it. i started this blog crap out not capitalizing any but the last letters of a sentence, right before the period. i got tired of capitalizing even in this highly amussing way as i felt it slowed down my flow, my thought streams that the nation has come to cherish as they wades in my thoughts and cleanse themselves.
I didn't capitalize as a protest towards my lack of Capitol. I was sticking it to the man as I worked an incredible arrya of shit jobs for money. That's the name of my work advice website that I plan to start on as soon as I finish up here at THE WORLDS MOST IMPOTANT BLOG. (now with hints of editing at the beginning of the thoughtstreams)(then i tend to drift)

It's important to me to transcribe as faithfully as possible where this muse is floating me on these thoughstreams. Streams of hope and a potential future, much different from the angry rugby players bitter words of heartache. after all the waters are attracting an ever growing wading party. im working on buying a bus so we can update the merry pranksters...

so i started this song about the wading party

and ill start that first few chapters of that project when the muse sings those melodies to me
im thinking old time with banjos and maybe my neices violin
i need a violinists
we have a couple guitarists
maybe ill try the banjo out

soo i start this song with the intention of other musicians adding verses
once the chorus is woked out that is

i wrote this song about it
just need a few musicians to work out the arrangement with
"come to the wading party,
were hanging at the creek
come to the wading party
it lasts about a week.
strong coffee kills the hangovers
its usually on by five,
theres work to do 'fore wading
and naps to sneak off to..."

ok so the song is started
maybe i should write a song a day too
its not scatterbrained if it evolves into something
i made ZOMBIe BUKOWSKI happen didnt I?
ive left footprints
evidence of insanity
evidence which i should print up and present to the nice people at social security so i can live the dream of liing in the greatest welfare state the world has ever known
let some republicans buy my beer for me
they like that shit
republicans
yeah ill refer to it as my genius grant in better company
and laff about sticking it to the man when im hanging with the anarchists
this will be a year of productivity and what i am producing is merchandise baby
to sell..ill put it on ebay, each item attatched to an artifact
like the first item up for bids
a beer bottle full of delusional poetry
i have a notebook the i wrote in and see if you can tell when the exactly i turned schizophrenic when i wrote these poems because they really seem to be coming from two distinctly deranged people who from time to time take up a pen and write ....

some of these poems are in small notepads, ill rip some fresh raw poetry out of AN ACTUAL POETS ORIGINAL NOTEBOOKS and you can fetishize it however you please...
wait for my line of collectible wearable poetry clothing ill sew the TWIMB LOGO INTO EACH GARMET by hand and it will be accompanied by a thankyou poem called thanks for buying my shirt, gee

its a hip hop number
OLD SCHOOL
thanks for buying my shirt gee
pockets are empty of my dough man
i ride thru the ghetto on the trollies
enduirng racial atrocities
because im the man that tried to teach little nigger kids their mother fucking ABCS
yeah I said it
got to give myself a tiny bit of credit
not alot of people have earned the right to said it
so you tell me
tee shirt buying gee
i did ten years with kids their fathers couldnt fucking stand
smart mouth punk ass always tearing up my class
i play rugby bitch
meaner than a snake
but those ghetto ass kids gave me more than i could take
urban terroists second to none
but one on one they all run pussy run
you ever try to keep 30 after school?
IM MR RUGBY a physical fool
i held back thirty till the one kid grabbed the door
i put my feet in the doorway and wedged my elbow in
and thity motherfuckser started bum rushing me
i held the fuckers back
but no one had my back
i had to let them out when the girls ribs started to crack
she was in the front
they crushed her into me
then the fucking principal started yelling at me

so yeah you heard the fucking word i said
in the belly of the beast

that my life was a waking nightmare
didnt bother me the least
i had mighty things to do and was strong as a beast


now i sit here and gotta take some shit on trollies
please
your thoughts are a disease

in the belly of a beast
named for some old racial hero to inspire these twisted freaks

twisted freaks
twisted freaks
they super freaky YOW



thats gotta be worth at least a case of beer there
thats art right there
i gotta find a way to market it to millions of republicans children
get back at the man by subverting the minds of his children through my new series of childrens books that baldy mis state the accepted facts of the day

you think its bad your kids sing tupac lyrics?
wait until the fukker is singing bakeowski