The Neighbors Have Become a Nuiscience

I have the touch.  Touch is that thing that I'm able to tolerate from another person when I'm passed out drunk. 

I used to love restaurants until I got sick at a little kids hot dog place on my sixth birthday, or actually for some time after, until I realized that they exist for the specific purpose of encouraging people to talk to each other while they eat.  Now I can barely stand the God damn things.  

I remember the early nineties when crime and teenage degeneracy were at their height and vigilante erections even higher, there were 'The More You Know' PSA's encouraging families to eat dinner together at the table so that they could talk and that way magically cure crime and teenage degeneracy.  I became a drunkard and a fiend to avenge that but the family still insists on talking even after I pistolwhipped the clerk at 7-11.  

I became deathly bored with sex as soon as I had had it with the same person twice, some twelve years after I lost my virginity, or actually some time before, when I realized that as soon as the subject came up in Junior High School it might be literally hours before anyone would shut the fuck up about it, or when my father cried at the beauty of my fifteen year-old cousins shotgun wedding, or when he tried to force me to dance with my other cousin at the reception because he thought children dancing with each other was all Hallmark and such, or when he insisted on meeting the girlfriend that didn't actually exist while I was on secret mission arming the killers of Yitzhak Rabin with the only bullets that can kill lizard men and simply had no time for love or more precisely no other love but the understanding arms of my fellow lizard men. 

I've gotten over it mostly.  I have a wife that I bought on my drug store credit that I keep in the war cellar while she inculcates my heirs with the power to fire my blunderbuss with the accuracy of Mark Brunell's 22 consecutive completions against the Houston Texans on a clear day in September of 2006.  In 2009 I had my wife installed with termite genes on drug store credit so that my heirs now number in the number in the millions and counting, masculine to a man and to a man endowed with the power to sever carotid arteries with frosty straws ruling Bozeman Montana with an iron fist.  

I rule on a throne of skulls I fuck the virgins of Bozeman Montana as a tithing practice from the people on their quinceañeras male and female and those who are already degraded are fed to the wife without remorse.  I force my slaves to till a field of blood with no hope of yield until they go mad from the revelation and are forced to realize that far from being in any sense an 'alien' or 'third world' pasttime the game which we know as soccer is in fact highly steeped in the very Anglo Saxon Protestant culture that supposedly forms the basis of pure Americana.   

I have fooled the world into believing that Noam Chomsky is a reality when he is in fact simply a manifestation of their own deaths.  I have invented damnation it is only by the rules of my reality that hatred of left-wing academia should be seen as in any way irrational when in truth it is simply the infallible premonition of our universal purgatory.  there is a life after death that awaits us all after we die for the first time on October 28th 1943 and that is to be fused in one body to our desks at Binghamton University writing our thesis on how the Magic Schoolbus was written to legitimize gunboat petrodiplomacy static gender rolls and the Augusto Pinochet regime.   

I have trained myself to eat pure stalks of grain straight from the root, clear out in the farmlands long abandoned for fear of myself where there are no eyes to see me defile myself so.   
If I had brought myself to ask Jenny Watkins to wear my sophomore football jersey before homecoming in 1995 this could have all been avoided. 

I have seen the peace that my exhausted mother dreamed of while she held her newborn babe in her arms.  It made me feel more violently ill than when I immunized myself from the mutated pest and I felt no relief until I held my blunderbuss in my arms once again.  Only then did I know that the war shall last forever and the justice of our lord Jesus Christ shall prevail.