[you cant do that]
but watchin ol dickypants get all jowled and frothy fangs was makin me cream. alex. hes the blotty that got me gummin like a freakazoid starsuckle and all. all that malchicks and viddy and droogs and devotchkas and glazzies and slovos talk and all. damn. it all sunk in one summer after i read and read and read and re-read clockwork and all. like all the time. but i didnt spill that beanage to any sculcher within miles. no one needed to know that preck. i just weezied
around gummin all this alex style preck and makin all these sculchers all nervy and fuzie
and jitzo and all with all my mazzy cryptic lingo. it was beeyoot for sure. ol dickpickweed jacked my clockwork and all and thought he was all slick and stuff and tried keepin up with me and all. he thought he figgied out my bitty gameroo and before long was gummin back to me in this alex style lingo and figgyin all this precky preck out but he couldnt member anything and when i caught the sculcher flippin through my clockwork i ripped his mugger off and ripped the preck outta his damn didgies. by then i figgied i hadta wizzle up my own tongees. this got the ol dicky all hot and bothered and cranky and pissy that he didnt know where to start.
[ya skinny precky]
i just sat back and cacksied.
beeyoot. and i kept at it too. over and over. slammin him left and right with all this kindza preck that his skuller was spinnin over it all and not pickin up a single word and stuff. beeyoot and a halfy.
if you can madgie for a sec we were all crammed into his precious pukey green rent-o-beamer wannabe clunker. this hunka junk precky preck veek reeked of sausage and ciggies and catty piss. just whiffin the lunks made me wanna puke all over the backseat. and i think i actually got close a coupla times. i was crammin my didgies all the waaaaay down my mouth too. you know tryin to wiggle the bejeeblees out of my throat and uvula and tonsils and anything else that lived in there hopin i could yack up some
its all i needed to hear as i was flick flick flick flickin my lighter and settin ablaze some ciggie i had found just sittin on the ground of that ratzer. we were weezyin along one of them musty outer hallways and all and there she was justa sittin there on the ground waitin for me to pick her up. i woulda lit up right then and there but it took me a few seckies to get my didgies on my lighter. and then in no time i was puffin all these mazzy clouds at ol dickypants from the backseat. justa blowin and blowin and blowin and blowin and there wasnt a whole helluva lot that sculcher could do about it.
[i aint moving until you put that thing out]
ol dickypants had killed the engine and was just sittin there like he was somethin hammerish and all. like that was gonna make some kinda statement and all. and so i just crossed my arms and sat there and looked back into his muddy eyes as he glared at me through his cracked rearview all steamy and reddy face and pissy and all justa suckin away. puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff puff
[ill take you back inside myself]
old dickypants was gummin. [yeah thats gonna happy]
i gummed back at him with the ciggie danglin outta my mugger.
puff puff puff puff i could see it in the rearview lookin all mazzy and sweet and beeyoot. you see they had
just tried to lock me up. whatta joke that was i tell ya. it didnt matter if it was for a day or a week or a year or whatever. throwin me in some pissy ratzer wasnt gonna change squat about nothin.
those filthy bars man. no matter what i did they were always there. you know.
hoverin
and all.
read the rest
of
gutter muck
[alternate version]
available
tuesday, march 31
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