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Underground > Creation >

The Surreal 2 & 1/2 inches.

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03:46 / 31.05.03

SO needing a pickup line I asked her if her tuna bites. And she said "no...i've been putting my lips to it for years". I said, "I beg you pardon?". "Well practice makes perfect and the rest of them need me for the big fish at the end. Nobody blows the big one like I do." "I say lady, you must have a great love of Ichthyology" "Well I dont usually enjoy anything russian, they're hard on the lungs." "Im sure", I reply, "they must be; what with all the cold water up there....you have a very lucky fish"
"Fish?" she replies, "Werent we talking about my tuba?"

08:24 / 31.05.03

“My mukluk,” she irrigated, “it’s much luck in its impression of the quack duck.”

“Well that’s just pick-up truck,” he toggled, “the jest fuck is a slot chunk. My money’s socked the odds are for the puck, blue to red, against the cluck.”

“A buck ain’t frocked in the nooked crooked brook.” Her piston was poised at promise of porcupine puss, proliferating pasteurized pop pop pops. She shuffled shallow smocks smiffed at the smithey, “But cornerstones groan and grind wrought under weight of lies and tries—good-byes to the flies that flew free.”

“Eye,” he matter to flash point state vector waved, “‘tis the story of toast the world over.”

..

17:09 / 31.05.03

Hear lies it's all there's here in Dead Rear. Not even silently asking for, or expecting replies - dry drama mere reporting from the top of the small yellow-brown sand dune for... okay some open whore holes... but there is also the disinterested interests of science. Dead Rear Desertdog's pace is slower than slow, butt it can last, extremly luckily, biding an almost undefined length of time (only defined by the observation of others - a fact learned in 99 way too fast years of forced evolution) in the shade, and using proper breath and birth control. "It's nothing," no worries. By the end of June we'll see Desertdog in warmer climbs, drinking to uncontent his heart's contents because "it is context dependant" to a level that can't possibly be realized from afar.

05:20 / 01.06.03

This just in: DNA tests have now proven conclusively that video did not, as was previously believed, kill the radio star.

09:37 / 01.06.03

Do you glue your you into you or did you rue the glue to flock the flew? Flight is right is not red rain no pain no drain no more insane a train that we ride in a box car we crack the door and the sky is the biggest blue with prairies of golden stalks and chaffs we’ve no need for staves or stays—we’re on the move, we’re on the way. And the day that runs from time’s river’s bed is laid to rest, at best a jest, because we got more we know the score we stepped through the door we don’t ask for more but less we confess to dig for the dirt that pays in Sun’s golden rays we want not the money of the Man but what we’ll take with a happy hand is small and meager not much of a deceiver. Enough for enough of what we need and we do concede that thrifty is in a jiffy the nifty neat street style crocodile. We wrestle with the best no test nor detest only the West that was one at the anti-dawn of days a black sun’s rays do beam in the dream of a seam from here to there—heaven to hell—but we can tell that in the rays that play in waves with troughs and crests the nest is made into a harmonic wade. In the interlude it’s all and nothing, it’s on and off.

21:53 / 01.06.03

Yound did not want to see, thound did not want to see "Even during the fall" with the leaves floating "The impending drop" Hit the mark... like freefall casserole. Yound-

07:26 / 02.06.03

Er down and around, the sound profound, the feet hit the street with the beat of hearts in hay bails, the lunar eclipse sets sails on pointless laws that stock our jails, the quails are spinning their tails, while whales golf tango greens with chalk on the block and rocks for cocks the crows row cawed the raw tuna tinsel delight of might or main—a maddening refrain of plastic pocked ticked tact stepped on toes you knows that the houses all line up in rows that ran with yesteryears beers that have failed and been jailed the trail is cold but they follow their nose in ways that flourish the decay and bleak out a Sun’s shinning ray while knotting their day in terminal ways they check out the return past the date due to be filled with vile spew spilling forth much like my aunt’s radiator was too close to the radio.

..

19:18 / 03.06.03

May Be, Maybe not, I shot Ought and the gush was a rush and a push in Bush's tush. The rest of the mess is mostly the result of violent religious incest and all the rest: In childhood dreams a burning Bible screams as a man creams over his daughter's face. A TV preacher's words: "The Enemy must be exposed and opposed violently!"

Years and tears, beers and peers undermine fears, a gradual reverse but the Bible still burns, earns the might to fight the hands it was once thumped with.

An identical result from the opposite direction, a sexchange, a vengeful erection. But if understood blunder sat shouldn't matter. Lesson learned from hisStory can breed new and improved rads. Peace was also honked by snow geese in time to turn verbal violence into mere teeth clenching silence. Hence the biding.

..

14:57 / 04.06.03

[Off again: TEC would like to state publicly that perhaps the most obvious interpretation for this station's comments on June 3 is a mistake and completely inaccurate. We did not intend for it to be broadcast in such a manner and did not even notice what it might imply until well after the fact. We apologize sincerely for its distastefulness and to anyone it may have offended or hurt. Please accept the following in its place:]

..

15:05 / 04.06.03

May 25, Maybe not,

Laws. They're always demanding your attention. A well made homunculus can defy convention, BeCause. Timelines the tires of wheels within wheels, X years from now the highest wheel revolves once more around the exact center of its hub. Its chariot of smoke and fire continues on over mountains, mounds, molehills, through valleys, forests, deserts, whathaveyou done with the sun? AH, there's always tomorrow or the next minute - we live together commonlaw. Bound, enforced by unspoken vows for eternity broken into bits and bytes. Where there's a way, there's a will. Where there's pill, there's a disease. {cough cough} Where there's smoke there's a lonely campfire to fall asleep in front of 'til Sonrise or until it's time to seek new fuel - and to consider the pros and cons of using natural gas over wood.

16:49 / 04.06.03

Turn on a dime 'cause I've got the time to play and say without much disarray that I'm not here to fear the leers and the jeers, the jests and the bests: all of that is simply the way of this unfurled world and if I were to let it get to me then I wouldn't be such a friend of the squirrels or the dance partner of the Lights in the Sky which sway and twist in a hazy mist of solar particles' impact and interaction with magnetic mesosphere layer. In short, a can of tuna is best served.

..

21:49 / 05.06.03

Don't know how this is gonna work out, but it's worth a shot:

..

21:50 / 05.06.03

..

21:52 / 05.06.03

wasn't going for a straight line but at least they're there

Strange Machine Vs The Virus with Shoes

22:12 / 05.06.03

Nobody was really sure why Del Shannon declared war on the Portuguese. Was it because a corrupt butcher had offered Dels spleen to the Portuguese in exchange of a sure fire hit? In any case the leeches and the whiskey had got to Del first, and the war was halted indefinitely. That is, until a forlorn trout head claimed that the Portuguese had stolen Dels pullover. Fireworks thus ensued!!

02:40 / 06.06.03

King Wifasetob pancaked the batter while the bases were loaded on the finest silks. Swing the tree’s bow before the King as he strikes out at helpless Noah Bodies found piling up in streets run read with literary zeroes of dynasty’s landing. Without time Sally skips sideways sidelong smack sum Sally—she’s shuffled short, shorter, shortest, shone. Gone are the bays of mold when ryes so due to liver let die. Supplied the green scene of dusted dreams dropped diZ-silly on flies spread mice gene ear growth tumor popsicle. I had I scream for my hazard—a two tone disaster plastered paper postcards sent home to Mom: wish you were beer.

..

20:44 / 06.06.03

The Shot. Fireworks long overdue ensued like last fourth of July, a summer when 'e did not dread the coming fall - in fact none of the show's characters ever saw it coming. What genius script writers we have here at TEC, and such well seasoned actors who seem to have taken method acting to a whole to level. Hope you all found tonight's episode educational and entertaining, thanks for tuning in.

06:47 / 09.06.03

Idn't ma iffle troswie troswie. Pajefk marlip nochfig--mafrq ipdo kfid!

[APPLAUSE]

Ufsid, ufsid...Sodc, gplo mubtif fozyqt fh ernix tilghdns dwot mergf. Piw durif moryw fh tiglk fotw ferniftq!

[APPLAUSE]

Fi jda xefv sfadin rforh? Kfy tcidq hjed sdrin mascjx: pretdsa viof merlfaz!

[APPLAUSE]

..

17:58 / 09.06.03

We know, okay? Not quite as bad as that, not quite as good as this.

unheimlich manoeuvre

11:53 / 10.06.03

in the state of utopia, everyone had a job, even the unemployment officer. they had to fire him regularly so he had work to do.

silence come hold me.
this text is audio only.

..

15:24 / 11.06.03

The Science of Replacing a Religion with a Real Person:

[Curtain Raised]
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

A A

[A APPLE]

APPLAUSE EASL

[APPLAUSE APPLE]

APPLAUSE LAUSE EASL

[APPLAUSE PLEAS APPLE]

USE APPLE EASL

[APPLAUSE P(EAS)]

P ALES (out)LAUSE LEAPS

[APPLAUSE PAL]

LAP Curtain Raised PAUSE

([SLEAP]SLEAP)

PLEAS

[UPALPSASUSUAL]

UP LES (PALES)

[SLAP]

PEALS

20:33 / 11.06.03

When walking home today I saw a dog, having broken its chain it bounded down the street frothy mouthed, no doubt on some adventure. It reminded me somewhat of the brief time I spent as a feral child in the Guatemalan jungle wandering through towering trees with only my pack as company. Oh to be young and to be a dog.

Strange Machine Vs The Virus with Shoes

18:06 / 14.06.03

Judith Cranshaw looked out over the congregation. The usual blue rinse brigade where here: Edna, Doris, Iris and Maude.
It was time to announce the winner of the raffle. Judith rose from her seat on the podium.
The tom-bola chugged and whirred in the background.
“Number 32” shouted Judith.
As she was looking out over the parish congregation, she focused on old Dave, the resident septuagenarian lothario. As she looked at him, an elephant’s head popped out of his ear:
“Have you taken your pills Judith?”
Judith looked on in horror, but it was only when Gary, the gay priest walked in, that Judith really shuddered:
“Why can’t these people just keep to themselves?” Judith whispered to herself.
Judith was once a girl guide!

19:05 / 14.06.03

A girl guide of teen dream rinse cream in the jeans. Oh! to be like Corey and a plethora of other media made men to harmless and unthreatening boys--the scream queen's object of inspiration is lined up at airports and shopping malls near you.

Try it, buy it, but I ain't gonna' supply it. I might fry it or deny it, but no words from lips or shake of hips is going to reify it.

Give up, give in, a sin or double chin chan let's invade Iran so far away: have a twice day.

Strange Machine Vs The Virus with Shoes

06:41 / 15.06.03

Hi girlfriend, you should start reading some books, 1984 is a good one as is Catch 22.

Strange Machine Vs The Virus with Shoes

06:44 / 15.06.03

The dog raid continues unabated. Sorry, I can’t listen to Bruce singing Born in the USA.
Where is my air supply, my big car, my big chair and my big haishirt? Have a you happy haddock and a cheerful cod? Basingstoke!

07:02 / 15.06.03

Air Supply!? Straight to Hades with the rest of the eighties, dawg—snarl, bark of a tree beside me roots on TV inquire within the din of voices the action without saturation abates abetted betcha’ ya’ can’t squeeze the cheese and toast of the town is red with the dead, the dying, the crying river runs blood buds of flowers blooms in rooms to roams where all roads lead to gold break the mold I was told wasn’t there to begin at the end a stitch in seem to beam from tower light bright set constructed, obstructed, obstinate absence rabid with fire’s desires of passions flames the rains pour little me beside the tree whose roots feel free to range in dirt and skirt the skim in him and not tell the bell that told the troll for me to free to see to be not what wasn’t but what could be the tree a leaf for me a branch to flee or fake or take the road less traveled unraveled right before I left to sea the whale and spin a tale for two in tea the white rabbit and me down the hole and up the well to Hell is Heaven transformed in a negative fashion sense has never been my best wares.

19:19 / 15.06.03

And it’s a knew day, a gnu day, a blue day, a rue day, a hue day, askew day, a view day, a moo day, a crew day, a Jew day, a zoo day, a few day, a pew day, a screw day, a clue day, a “Q” day, a sue day, a glue day, a true day, a spew day, a flew day, a blew day, a grew day, a stew day, a lieu day, a whoo! day, a due day, a threw day, a mew day, a too day, a two day, a to day, a today: not yesterday and not tomorrow—light shines only here and now.

07:55 / 16.06.03

It was way too late in life when I learned how to refuse the strife and suddenly my life was rife with more time, more spaces, more faces and places—I’d given up on the races ‘cause I’d found that my heart and soul they do damage—debases and erases, effaces the ever present now that wow whee zowee ka-powee! And it wasn’t like this current of cream and crops wasn’t always there: it clearly was now from where I sit and see the me that wasn’t there when I was being what I gave up erupt be free beyond the norm to see the habit and grab it by the horns and steer the steer that would stare me down—turn it around from star to sun in fun and flames I rise again a death a birth for what’s new worth I perch and sit no spit no spam but current’s embrace on wind’s fan the traces of mazes no longer run faded form from sight and memory’s day’s are done and numbered filed for the child to come who came and went now smiles again on backs of horses jars in hand smiling a grin that Buddha would envy no pot belly no piss to rot in but pleasant innocence again and began not once nor never but always and forever.

..

14:31 / 16.06.03

An honest day. A May day, a k day, A.K. 47 day, I honestly can't say, honestly, I can't stay, but would love to return love some day - No more Papermates - no more, no more, and no more. Understoodmis?

What do you get when you cross a cross with a cross?
What's that boss?
A double-cross?
Sorry I quit. It's four the best.

..

19:16 / 16.06.03

Too late for what now?
Wheeze all painted into corners and I'm helping? The good King's last act is mercy before he throws his newest born into the woods and offs himself as is required by sacred decree of his predeceaser. The bastard, motherless child will be raised by the forces of nature and the resequenced nature of its DNA, its blue blood may even be spilled red. Who knows?

..

17:49 / 17.06.03

For an exit or to avoid the entrance at any cost. For fun. For curiosity. For adventure. For the mystery. For the possibility. For power. For the love of a good woman. For a small unorthodox income (as opposed to fame and fortune). For Christ. For truth. For lies. For Satan. For anarchy. For freedom. For something to do. For a challenge. For mother earth. For father time. For misunderstood foriegners everywhere. For the children. For senile seniors everywhere. For myself. For art. For science. For greed. For lust. For love. For selflessness. For the future, For the past, For my friends, For enemies everywhere, For pride, For humility, For the love of a good bicycle, For a pen, For a pool cue, For some good books, For Shaolin ninja monks everywhere, For our heroes, For heroine, For pot, For weeds everywhere, For hippies, For punks, For music of every flavour, For whores and their pimps, For the birds and the bees, For the worms in my lawn, For gay pride, For evolution, For revolution, For pollution, For over population, For courage, For cowardice, For no good reason, For "whatever."

18:48 / 17.06.03

For fore four!

unheimlich manoeuvre

00:44 / 18.06.03

you know what thought did he thought he did but he didn't

08:29 / 20.06.03

I found myself having a smoke of the joke that I jacked into jilt. The kilt that I wear is not my family colours—they were artichokes and lemons, and this clearly isn’t their tartan. my late great grand tree was uprooted back in ’34 during the great Depression when people had dust bowls and dried cows, and ate thistle sandwiches without the bread. But they still found the resources and they bred the breed that would indeed go on to spawn this world that we now find ourselves spinning diZzly about in, like a trout in the counter current with a feverish desire to spawn, but we sink the dawn back beyond the clouds and the shrouds of yesterdays glues and structures we aren’t brave enough to puncture the picture that’s been framed with our sentence in jail—it is we who have failed and crashed through the safety rail. Now we sail adrift down, down, down the abyss we fall with nothing on which to crawl and when we open our eyes we bawl so we tuck and we suck in our grim faces and take automaton replaces and refrains we act without thought and we are what we bought and this whole thing is rot for the soul that sees the trees for the forest and the rich eating the poorest and I can’t stand a cold trough of porridge.

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