Sunday, October 23, 2005

The Pauly Shore diatribe

Hotel room, night – decadent wallpaper and encrusted carpet intermesh at obtuse angles – flies in vibrant coitus encircle luminance – putrefaction languishes upon a slowly multiplying ceiling – a knock at door, then ambient silence – scrap of paper with retrograde hieroglyphics, translation does not match clown portrait – tells of the In The Army Now special edition DVD.

Streets lined with paragraphs of Kafka – the commissioner tells me that weasels have infiltrated the compound, “Fucking swine!” – he lies – weasels are known for their diligence at times of depression, the one I seek disregards the ‘the’ factor - moles and voles copulate on sides of buses in choreographed arabesque rhythmic swirls - “Fuck your linearity” shouts a lush worker from the top of a flaming crane, “Obviously overdosing on the pi equation” mutters a passer-by.

Subway – pure black seeking messianic conundrum – ants roam the carriage in constant fellatio – nightmare scenarios of bibliography – conceptualised badgers with psychosomatic appendicitis prompt transduction in all senses – vestigial rudiments of the Jeffrey Combs gland – I know the weasel is close.

Darkened street corner defined by temporal harmonics – dreams of the fallen shoelace, 1921 – mist with overtures of Brechtian drama – I’m tired, cupules of the intermeshed obtuse angle – pulsing cinema beset by whores and vagrants, signs inform of the 400 Blows, followed by Jury Duty as main attraction – I’m close.

Hieroglyphics scrawled with Nietzsche moustache speak of alley – promises of Promethean typography – dreams of mysterious azure figure prompting quest – “Hey buddddddy” – archaic principles of overcoat – “I’m looking for the In The Army Now special edition DVD” – cascading Bio Domes on ocular – “I have some in my van, follow me” – witness to remembrance of my time in the panopticon – I follow – “There ya go buddddddy, this one includes my commentary track” – rushes of the expectorate into the diencephalon - “cheers.”


Anonymous Duke De Mondo said...

fuck my eyes!!!!!!!! BRILLIANT!!!!! the first truly stunning bout of scribbelry you've etched, i'm sure you won't take offence at my saying. i love all the stuff herein, and elsewhere, but this is just blindingly brilliant. fuck!

7:26 pm  
Blogger midnitcafe said...

Sweet Jeebus. We've created a monster. Not only are you one prolific mo fo, but you're writing insanely fantastic stuff too!

That was beautiful.


4:36 am  
Blogger Miss Templeton said...

Yes indeed. This writing is not what Mondo Irelando Podcast 13 led me to expect. That isn't meant to disparage the unique charm of your on-air persona, but I must admit that there was none of that I could repeat to my father!

8:31 pm  
Blogger Aaron Fleming said...

Thanks for the comments.

On-air persona!?! Haha, never considered that existed before, but cool. I guess it's as the quiet sidekick, perhaps the Bob to his Jay or something.

Hopefully there'll be at least a variety of writings on here, maybe something worthy of father reciting eventually.

10:39 pm  
Blogger Miss Templeton said...

QUIET sidekick? Am I mistaken or was it NOT you chasing him around the room with a jar of KY Jelly in Mondo Irelando Podcast 12?

And the number of impressive variations you wrung on "f*cking useless c*nt" in Podcast 13 outdistanced the Cyrano de Bergerac 20-ways-to-insult-a-nose speech.

I may have to listen AGAIN!

And, yes, will look forward to reading your further writings.

3:12 am  
Blogger Aaron Fleming said...

Hhahah, you are indeed mistaken, for that was NOT me. The scottish fellow is but a Duke character, I am nothing in the Podcast beyond an occasional reference to real life events (usually consisting of a sit and a talk about Takeshi Miike with the Duke).

10:45 am  
Blogger Miss Templeton said...

Ah....that explains a lot! My mistake.

5:33 pm  

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