Tag: junkies

FYB’S Fucked Up Friday Film: COMBAT SHOCK!

FYB is Psyched to Present this Fucked Up Friday Film COMBAT SHOCK!! Combat Shock is a Cult Classic War Drama Written, Produced, and Directed by Buddy Giovinazzo and Starring His Brother Rick GioVinazzo. Combat Shock was Released in 1986 to Mixed Negative and Critical Reviews with the Acceptation of a Small Cult Following of Fans, and is Distributed by None Other then Indie Film Icon  TROMA ENTERTAINMENT!

           

“Filled to the brim with Nerve-Shredding Nihilism, Total Despair, and a Take No Prisoners Attitude…Combat Shock is one of the Bleakest Films you’ll ever have the chance to see.” – Kurt Dahlke (DVD Talk)

“Combat Shock is Dismal and Depressing, and in its Nerve-Wracking Realism it makes Zero Excuses for the Establishment and its Indifference.” – Film Threat

“But this Downer Drama…might be Too Much Horror for the viewer to take without any light moments.”- Dennis Schwartz (Ozus’ World Movie Reviews)

           

Brief Pot Summer: Set in Staten Island Combat Shock follows Unemployed Vietnam Vet and Prisoner of War Frankie. Frankie who suffers from a Severe Case of PTSD lives in Complete Poverty in a Squalid Apartment with His Pregnant Nagging Wife and DEFORMED BABY Boy. Frankie is convinced the reason for His Son being a Deformed Mutant is due to the Fact He was Exposed to the CHEMICAL WEAPON AGENT ORANGE while serving His Country in Vietnam. Surround by the Depravity of Urban Life and Crime Frankie’s Sanity Starts to Slip. Frankie’s inability to find gainful Employment fuel’s His DEADLY DOWNWARD SPIRAL into Insanity, Murder,  Petty Crime, and Death! Enjoy.

We Hope You Enjoyed this Demented Tale of Destitution and Madness as Much as We Did.

Thanks for Watching,

  Presented By Les Sober

Another Day at The Cock’n Balls Bar and Pawn: Afternoon

Once the Hubbub from the Morning’s Pickled Toe Incident Owner Bud Wiser went back to lazily wiping down the Bar as His wicked Smokers Cough was getting the Better of Him. Bud Coughed, Wheezed, and Repeatedly Cleared His Throat while muttering about whatever was Annoying Him at the Time. Bud took a moment to Scan the Bar since there wasn’t anyone in the Pawnshop since it was Friday aka PayDay so the Need for People to Pawn their Possessions was greatly Diminished. As Bud Surveyed the Bar the Dust that Hung in the Air Mingling with the Smoke of Countless Cigarettes reminded Him of Sea Monkeys though He had No Idea Why.

Shitty Nickels was sitting in the Corner Strumming a Old Guitar that was Beat to Hell that He had found in the Trash Last Week. Shitty had been joined by His Dear Friends and fellow Musician Sexx Fuckin who was considered by Those in the Know as the Best Slide Guitarist Both Sides of the Mississippi. The Gruesome Twosome were Swapping Stories and Reminiscing about Days Long Gone By over some Seriously Strong Singapore Slings.

Mikey Drongo the Leader of a Near By Chop Shop was still sitting at the Bar sipping Beer and Downing Shots like there was No Tomorrow. Bud figured that Drinking like there was No Tomorrow made Perfect Sense considering Mickey’s Line Of Work. Considering He was in Fact a Criminal (regardless of How Nice a Guy He actually was). And Being a Criminal Meant Mickey could easily be Killed by Rivals or Locked Up in a Tiny Cell for the Rest of His Life. Both were Valid Reasons to Drink in Bud’s Mind.

           

Harry Twatter the Neighborhood’s Degenerate Gambler had taken off as soon as the Pickled Toe bet was Settled opting to Spend His Day down at the Dog Track. Harry would spend His Day Tossing Cups of Beer, Tearing Up Losing Tickets, and Having His Wallet Emptied as He Dreamed of Getting Rich Quick Schemes into between Races. After a Good 8-9 Hours at the Track Harry would show Up at The Cock’n Balls convinced He had come up with a Winning System based on His Mistakes from that Day.

Harry would inevitably end up Pawning God Knew What to Secure His Gambling Money for the Next Day’s Venture be it at The Track, Backroom Poker Games, or Illegal Casinos. Harry had always been a Truly Tragic Hero who Dreamed of Scoring  a Small Fortune (through any means Possible outside of  a Legitimate Job) and was Going Broke all the While.

Bawbag Cockwomble had Shuffled Off soon after winning the Pickled Toe Bet and claiming His prize of One Pickled Egg. Bawbag spent His Days Panhandling as He wondered The Streets until Sundown collecting that Night’s Drinking Money. Bawbag called it a Day at Sundown since  walking up to a Car looking Filthy and Disheveled in the Dark with Your hand Outstretched was Likely to get You Killed. Bawbag made a pretty fucking Penny Panhandling have No Doubt about since Bawbag knew how to Play the “Spare Change” Game.

           

Bawbag had found a particularly Busy Intersection that was CONSTANTLY Jammed up with Commuters All Day Long as Opposed to just Rush Hour. Bawbag had learned the subtle art of Looking Pathetically Submissive enough to Get a Donation without looking Desperate. Bawbag knew Desperate People can be Extremely Unpredictable, and that makes Them Intimidating to the General Public which greatly Diminishes Daily Profits.

Pissy Wristy and Her Petty Drug Dealing Boyfriend Jimmy Tosser with the Lofty Ambition of Becoming a Full Blown Pimp had adjured to the Bathroom for a Quickie. Bud Waited a Receptive amount of Time before He went into the Bathroom and Evicted the Copulating Couple back to the Bar. Once The Disheveled Twosome had exited the Bathroom Pissy passed the fuck out from the Previous Nights Drinking, Drugging, and Fucking and Jimmy sat staring at His phone like an Intoxicated Caveman.

Dickey Dullard the Romantic and Animate Junkie had just recently Shot Up a Heavy Dose of Dope, and was attempting to Play Pool. Unfortunately Dickey was so High He just stood at the End of the Pool Table struggling to keep His fucking Eyes Open swaying unsteadily on His Feet. For all intents and Purposes looked Dickey looked so Comatose that Bud half expected Dickey to Suddenly Sink Unconscious to the Floor Collapsing into a Pitiful Heap.

            

Just Then “Bloody” Sod Bollocks burst through the Front Door with a Great Deal of Force sending the Door slamming against the Ball. Sod had entered this way since the First Time He entered the Bar 8 years ago, and as a Result from  the Door Knob colliding violently with the Wall the Knob had Left a Deep Circular Indent at the Point of Impact. Sob strode over to the Bar and Hopped gingerly onto a Bar Stool and snatched up one of the Bowls of Peanuts from its Resting Place. Sod snatched up the Peanuts for the Sole Purpose of Throwing them at Dickey in an attempt to illicit a Response. For His part Dickey remained completely Oblivious to the Legume Assault being Launched at Him.

Sod quickly grew tired of Pelting Dickey with Peanuts and turned around to face the Bar.  The Funny thing about Sod was He considered Himself an Intellectual, Yet Sod was also Self Admittedly Uneducated. Sod had dropped out of School after the 8th grade to go Work in a Haggis Manufacturing Plant.  He had figured School was shit and Work was shit as Well, BUT at least Work Paid, and that was good enough for Sod. So with that He  said  So Long to School and Hello to the Blue Collar Factory Workforce. By the Age of 16 Sod had Left the Work Force since He didn’t Appreciate His Boss telling Him What to Do all damn Day.

With Little to No Prospects Sod gravitated to the Illegal World of Bare Knuckle Boxing where He earned the Moniker “Bloody” since thats the Condition His defeated Opponents Left the Ring in. Sod had made His way up through the Ranks and even had been the Reigning Bare Knuckle Boxing Champion for a Short While. Sadly for Sod He was forced to Vacate the Title when He immigrated to the United States to avoid a rather serious Legal Problem. Sod’s Legal Problem was while He was attending a Soccer Match to Cheer on His Team the Manchester United on to Victory. At some point during the Game Sod got Himself into an Altercation with a Drunken Soccer Hooligan. The Incident Ended with Sod Punching the Drunk Hooligan Dead in the Face so fucking Hard it Ironically Killed the Drunk Bastard Who Died where He Fell.

           

Sod stained at the Graffiti that Patrons had Carved into the Antique Oak Bar over its Many Years in Service. Again it didn’t take but mere moments before Sod became Board and Fidgety as He wasn’t a Very Proficient Reader, and was begging to Wonder why He been in a Bar for 10 minutes and Didn’t have a Beer in His hand as of Yet. Annoyed Sod peered through the Gloom of the Low Lighting until He saw Bud over in the Pawnshop messing around with a stubborn Display Case.

This made Sod Irate as fuck since He never saw the Point in converting Half of a perfect Decent Neighborhood Old Man Bar into a Pawnshop of all fucking things. Gambling Machines Now thats where the fucking Money was at so if Bud wanted to increase His Profits He should invest in a few Video Gambling Machines thats how it should have been Done in Sod’s opinionated Opinion. Everyone fucking Knows No One spends Money quite like a Drunken Gambler mused Sod to himself Las fucking Vegas was Built on that Principle Alone.

Sod waved His hand back and forth perturbed by Bud’s lack of Acknowledgement so He decided He’d call Out to Bud to get His attention. Also being the Dick that He was would use Buddy in place of Bud. Sod knew this Presumably Minor Indiscretion would Piss Bud off in a Big fucking Way because Bud had an extreme aversion to being called Buddy. No one knew why this was such a sensitive issue for Bud and judging by His reaction when it did happen No One was about to Ask.

            

“HEY BUDDY what the fuck Do I have to do to get a Fucking Beer around Here I’m about Dead of Dehydration for fucks sake!” bellowed Sod boorishly as He was apt to do.

Bud had been bent over a Display case tinkering with the Cantankerous lock due to it Being a Bit Rusted when He Heard Sod from across the Room. Bud snapped to Attention standing rigidly as if He was using every fiber of His being to Restrain Himself from running over and punching Sod in the fucking Throat. Bud’s eyes narrowed to the point One couldn’t tell if they were even Open as the Corners of His mouth sagged in Disapproval and Distain. Bud walked out from behind the display case in a Creepily Slow manner Reenforcing the feeling that He was straining with all His might to keep from going Completely Apeshit all over the place.  As Bud walked with Purpose towards Sod He had His Shoulders back, and His Fists Clenched so Tight His Knuckles where turning White.

Stay Tuned for Another Installment of………

Another Day at The Cock’n Balls:Evening

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

We’re The Worst Superhero’s of All Time

My Wife and I had planned a Road Trip to get Out of Town for a While and to take a break from Life’s endless Trial, Tribulations, and General Horseshit. We board Our 4 Large Rottweilers at a Boarding Facility a Couple of Towns Over from Our little Neck of the Woods. We Board them since 4 Rottweilers on the Road in a fucking Hatchback would be an Insane Undertaking.

We loaded Up the Dogs and hit the Road headed to a Town a few over from us. It was a pleasantly sunny Day but Hot as a Motherfucker with a Humidity Index of 90%. My Wife was Driving and I saw mindlessly staring out the Window checking out the Scenery as We drove along to Our Destination.

Far down the Road almost almost out of Sight a Black SUV looking Vehicle that had pulled up in front of one of the Many Abandoned Buildings that Dot the Countryside, and all of a Sudden the Vehicle took off like a Bat Ot of Hell with its ass on Fire. The Vehicle quickly disappeared out of Sight and We continued Our uneventful Drive.

       

The Next thing I saw was truly one of those things that makes You think to Yourself What The Fuck s That About. As I was blankly staring at the Thick Woods that lined the side of the Road I saw a Man with a Shaved Head, Shirtless, with a Homeless Floridian Panhandler’s Tan, and carrying what appeared to be a Military Type Duffle Bad Deal slung over His Shoulder. He stuck out like the Preverbal sore fucking Thumb since We were in a long and virtually uninhabited stretch of Road with a Few scattered Houses spaced Out along it.

The weirdest fucking thing was this Guy was Walking Out of the Woods towards the Road. This normally wouldn’t concern Me in the Least as I have said We live in the Boonies so Seeing a Hunter decked out in Head to Toe Camo standing on the Side of the Road or walking out of the Woods is just Typical around here. This Guy wasn’t a Hunter in fact for all intensive  purposes He looked like a fucking Homeless Junkie.

Before I could even make  comment to My Wife about the Strange Junkie Emerging from the Woods We came around a Blind Curve, and there was the Black SUV Vehicle that had come to a COMPLETE dead Stop as if it was in a Parking Spot at some fucking Walmart. Since it was a Blind fucking curve there was 20 feet between Our car goin 50 miles an Hour or so (The Speed limit is 55 on that road, but as You can imagine People drive even Faster because they can’t seem to kill themselves fast enough.) and the Unknown Vehicle that was again at a DEAD STOP. I had just enough time to say My Wife’s Name and then all We could do is Prepare for Impact.

       

Our Lives didn’t flash before Our eyes, It wasn’t like being in a fucking Movie, and Nothing appeared to go into Slow Motion. I a split NANO SECOND I saw the Vehicle and thought Holy fucking Shit Their not Moving, and then just simply the word Fuck then We collided with the Rear End of the Vehicle in Question. We hit so fucking Hard not only did BOTH Air Bags Deploy they fucking Exploded filling the Car with a think Cloud of Chemical Dust that smelled like Burning Plastic. The Hood of the Car was crumpled all the way back to the base of the Shattered Windshield like a Crinkle Cut Fry.

The Dogs thank fucking God weren’t Hurt as They slammed against Each other and collapsed in a Heap all accept for Mama Dog who had been sitting between the Front seats so She could see out the Windshield. Mama Dog came flying forward between the Seats Head First towards the Windshield, and I stuck My Arm Out like a Toll Gate catching Her before She smacked into the Windshield or the Dash Board. Our Ears were ringing, We were uncontrollably shaking a good Bit, and Spent the first couple of Minutes trying to figure Out if We were in fact Dead. Luckily We were alive and Not seriously Hurt.

       

My Wife excited the Vehicle by Squeezing Herself out the Car door that at this point barely Opened enough for Her to do so. I checked on the Dogs who were handling the Accident far better it appeared than We Humans. I then had to Crawl out of the Car Window since My Door was so jacked the fuck up it Couldn’t Open not even a Crack. The Other driver walked Over to Us as I slid out of the Car Window, and looked as in Shock as We did as Everyone’s Adrenaline was Flowing like the fucking Mississippi River after a Major Down Pour. The Entire Engine lay Exposed to the Sun tilted to the Left, Anti Freeze along with Oil and Radiator Water were Draining Out Every fucking where. There was Shrapnel consisting of the Front Bumper, Head Lights, and Various Extraneous Debris splayed out across the Asphalt.

We established No One was seriously Hurt and as We stood there in Shock to the Point No One could Figure Out what to do Next. We finally Mentally collected Ourselves enough to think some what strait and knew We had to call the Police and then Our Insurance Company immediately. Before We could call the Cops a Gnarly Fire Fighter Rescue Pick Up Truck pulled up Behind Our Vehicle. The Truck was fucking Huge even by Truck standards and had Flashing Lights on Top with the Station Number in the Middle of a Badge Insignia (1211 by the way). The Driver was a rather Big Fellow decked out in Navy Blue Cargo Pants, Shit Kicker Boots, Navy T-shirt with The Fire Rescuer’s Emblem on it, and a Navy hat also sporting the Fire Rescue Logo.

       

The Fire Rescue Fellow showed up so Fast like I said We hadn’t even dialed the Police as We all were still Badly Shaken Up by what had just occurred. It turned Out there was another Young Man not looking a Day over 22 with the Fire Rescue Fellow who jumped out, threw on a Florescent Yellow Vest like the Road Construction Crews wear, and crossed to the Other side of the Road to Direct Traffic as the Vehicle We Hit was still parked in the road blocking the Entire Lane.

The Next to Show was the Ambulance and the EMTS who We informed were not needed at this Time as No One was Seriously Hurt nor Requesting Medical Attention. I’d like to pause here for a brief second. I fully fucking Believe there should be a 24 Hour Medical Consultation Law that Allows Victims of Car Accidents a FULL 24 Hours to Seek Treatment POST Accident. This is due to the Fact that with all the fucking Adrenaline and Sheer Shock of it All People aren’t aware of Injuries at the exact Time o the Crash. I mean unless Your Unconscious, Profusely Bleeding, have a Broken Limb, or are Trapped in the Wreck People always Dismiss the Paramedics. Then later when the Adrenaline and its wonderful knifing effects wear the hell off You start to become aware of all the Sore Muscles, Bruises, Scratches, and Cuts that You incurred in the Accident.

       

Now Back to Our Story.

Its at this Point The Story takes an Unforeseen Twist when the Fire Rescue Fellow asks My Wife and I if We saw the Bald Junkie Dude run into the Woods with something and then Run back out again. We told the Fire Rescue Fellow What We had seen and then told Him that after Impact We were to fucked in the Head to Notice what the fuck The Junkie did or didn’t do. I then informed the Fire Rescue Fellow of what I had seen before the collision. The Fire Rescue Fellow informed us the reason He had made it onto the Scene so Fast was the Next Car to come down the Road after Our accident was in fact His Brother who called Him Directly to report the Crash and let His Brother Know some Guy had run into the Woods to ditch Who Knows What. The Fire Rescue Fellow then told Us He would remain at the Crash Site because and I quote “Theres something Not right about those Guys.” referring to the Occupants of the Other Car.

The Other Driver walked up and instantly the Fire Rescue Fellow asked Her straight up what was it that the Guy hid in the Woods. She of course says She has No fucking Clue who He is or That She was picking Him Up. She went on to say the Other Woman in the Car who looked like Your Stereotypical Meth Addict was Her Best Friend who She hadn’t seen in 6 months (More than likely because the bitch was doing a 6 month bit in County Jail), and the Guy was Her Boyfriends who again She had No Clue about. This is a Classic Drug Addict explanation as its full of fucking Holes. The Fire Rescue Fellow tells the Woman The Police are in Route, and He’ll have Them bring a K-9 Unit out if Necessary. She stuck to Her story and things progressed.

       

A Actual Fire Truck showed Up, but since there was No Fire (Thank fucking God) there was No Need for Them so They left for Somewhere They were in fact Needed. As The Fire Truck was pulling away the Local Sheriff Patrol Cars pulled Up. The Sheriffs made Sure We were indeed Ok and Prceeded to Help Direct the increasing amount of Traffic that was backing Up as The Sheriffs Closed BOTH Lanes simultaneously. The Sheriffs also made sure No One tried to Leave the Scene of the accident, and to Insure there was No Physical Confrontation between those involved in the Accident.

I’m not gonna lie as I stood there watching things unfold I had to fight the Impulse to Run Over to the Other Vehicle (which was a Jeep it turned out not an SUV), and Beat the Holy fucking shit Out of the Junkie Dude since it was essentially His fault. If His filthy Drug Addled ass was being picked up on the side of the fucking Road by His Drug Addict supposed Girlfriend and the Other Driver NON of this Would have Happened.

By Now the Few scattered People living out that way had made Their way from Their Houses near by to the Accident Site, and We the Coolest Bunch of People they were the kind of People that restore Ones Lost Faith in Humanity that’s for sure. Everyone of Them asked if We were Ok, if We needed Anything, and Brought Not Just Us but Our Dogs Cold Bottles of Water. No joking here but These Good Samaritans were as concerned for Our Dog’s Welfare as much as Ours which I found to be utterly fucking Awesome.

       

My Wife at this Point was on the Phone reporting the Accident to Our insurance Company as I tended to the Dogs making sure They had Water and didn’t try and Jump out of the Car during all the commotion. I called My Mother who is My only relative around these parts and asked Her to come over and Pick Up the Poor Dogs since it was Hot and Humid as Hell. The Last fucking thing We needed was for a Dog to suffer a fucking Heat Stroke from baking in the Car now turned Oven. Thankfully She was at Home and ready to lend a Helping Hand however it was needed. She arrived about 23 minutes later and My Wife and I loaded Up the Four Dogs into Her Air Conditioned Car.

It was also at this point the Sheriffs made sure Everyone Stood Roadside as the Woods were Now Off Limits to Anyone Who wasn’t Law Enforcement. The Highway Patrol was called in to Deal with the Actual Accident and would be arriving shortly. Also I nice Older Man who Lived about 150 feet from the Accident Site told My Mother She could park in His Drive Way which was Shady and would keep Her out of The Polices Way. I walked down to His Driveway and He came out of His Workshop (Turns Out He’s a Welder among other things) with a Big Bowl of Fresh Cold Water for Our Dogs.

       

Time Passed as the Three Ring Circus of an Accident was in full Swing, and I couldn’t take the Dogs Home because the Highway Patrol would want My Account of the Accident. So I stood in this Nice Old Guy’s Front Year watching the Fiasco for a While. Eventually the Fire Rescue Fellow walked over to Me and Informed Me that The Deputy’s (Yet more Law Enforcement) had arrived and were currently in the Process of Arresting the Meth Head Girlfriend Passenger in the Jeep We hit because She had NOT One, BUT SEVERAL ACTIVE WARRANTS OUT FOR HER ARREST. So She was Off to Jail. I again won’t lie this Delighted Me because it was Her Scummy Junkie Boyfriend they were Picking Up.

Apparently I was told that Each Law Enforcement Agency had its Own Particular Role in this Situation. As I said earlier The Sheriff was there for the Initial Assessment and to Keep the Peace. The Highway Patrol was there sole for the Accident, and the Deputies were there to Arrest The Junkie’s Meth Mouthed Girlfriend so there were a lot of motherfuckers with Badges.

       

Another Development had occurred while My Wife was still Maning the Phones like a fucking Champ, and I was keeping My Mother and Dogs company while chatting with the Nice Older Man and His Adult Daughter. It just so happened there was a Petty Thief that had been operating in their Area Breaking into Vacation Houses, Boat Houses, Garages, Tool Sheds, Workshops, and Vehicles to Steal whatever They could. THIS was the reason for the Fire Rescue Fellows Diligence, and the subsequent interest of the Various Police Departments in the Bald Junkie fuck I had seen walking Out of the Woods before the Accident.

The Police had been actively searching the Woods and had located several Stashes of Peoples Personal Property that the Bald Son of a Bitch had STOLEN and then since obviously He didn’t have a Car Hid in the Woods to swing back and pick up at a Later Date. Of course the Entire Time the Two Druggie Scumbags are Lying every which way to avoid the Increasingly good Possibility They BOTH would End up in Jail by the End of it all. With His Meth Loving Girlfriend was taken into Custody and He was put in Handcuffs He shut right the fuck up. And Yes in the End the Bald Bastard turned out in a Scooby Doo Twist to be the Piece of Shit Revolting Robber so He went to Jail just like His Meth Hooker Looking Girlfriend. As it turned out The Last Person this Scumfucks Junkie Robbed was as it turned out the Nice Older Man’s Place as His Daughter had conferred with the Cops, and Identified several items that belonged to Her Father.

       

The Highway Patrol finished up all the bullshit Paper work and Sited the Driver of the Jeep with a Ticket and Court Summons for making an “Illegal Stop”, returned My Wife and My Drivers Licenses, and told Us That We were in No Way required to show up on the Jeep Drivers Court Date, BUT if We did it would Help Them Nail Her to the fucking Wall. So Yes We are going I think it will be nice to be in Court and NOT being the Defendant and of Course FUCK HER THE BATSHIT BITCH. Fuck Up My Plans and I’ll Fuck Up Your LIFE.

Then My Wife got a Ride Home with the Tow Truck Driver who had showed up while We were with the Highway Patrol. I rejoined My Mother in Her car and Took the Dogs on Home at Last. The SOLE thing that gave this Shit Cloud a Silver Lining was when the Deputy Officer made a point of telling Us that Not to take it the Wrong Way, But as Unfortunate as Our Accident Was and Giving that No One was Seriously Hurt Had in Fact “Solved a lot of Problems for Us.”

 (1)    (2)

SO there You have it My Wife and I are in fact Superhero’s. Superhero’s without ANY Super Powers or Crime Fighting Weapons (like Batman). No We just Drive Around and Stop Crime by  Crashing into Criminals. Then We simply  Wait for the Cops to Come and Arrest Them.  That would effectively make Us the WORST SUPERHEROES OF ALL TIME.

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober (3)

Lee Jonitis:Professional People Watcher (41/365)

Without saying another word  Dizzy went  bounding up the Stairs towards the Unresponsive Junkie. Once He reached the Junkie he shoved Him to one side and as the Junkie slumped to the right Dizzy literally stepped over the Junkies shoulder. Dizzy took a second to light a cigarette before placing His boot between the Junkie’s shoulder Blades, and shoved Him unceremoniously down the flight of Stairs.

The Junkie came tumbling down Ass over Elbows in a Flurry of Flailing Limbs finally hitting the Landing were Lee was standing. The Junkie lay there in a crumpled pile like a Wad of Chewed Up Bubble Gum. Lee frozen momentarily in Shock as He stared down at the Junkie wondering what the fuck He should do about it.  Lee definitely wasn’t about to call the fucking Cops that’s for sure They’d just give Dizzy and Him a Hard Time Hassling Them Unnecessarily because They weren’t Happy about cleaning Up and After a Scummy Junkie. Lee did wonder if He should at least call 911 and have some Medical Professionals handle it. Lee also wasn’t sure if He Should He say anything and just continue to follow Dizzy to His Apartment?!

       

“If You’re afraid He’s Dead check His pulse or see if He’s still breathing. I assure You He’s fucking Fine.” Dizzy said with total confidence. Lee glanced up at Dizzy who was leisurely taking Prolonged drags of His Cigarette with an air of Boredom.

Lee landed over and gingerly took hold of one of the Junkies wrists and was relieved to feel a Pulse and Not a Fresh Corpse. The Junkie suddenly let out a Low and Hollow Moan that startled the hell out of Lee and made Him Jump back away from the Junkie’s contorted body that lay only a few feet from Him. Lee could hear Dizzy Laughing deeply as if He had just heard the funniest fucking Joke ever Told. Lee shot Dizzy a “Fuck You” Scowl as He failed to find the Humor in the Situation.

       

“I fucking TOLD YOU, I told You He was Fit as a Fiddle. A Dope Addicted Fiddle that just fell Head long down a Flight of Stairs it’s a bit fucked up but Fine in General.” Dizzy Said with a Calm Confidence.

Lee slid past the Battered Body of the Junkie and resumed His Journey to Dizzy’s Apartment. Lee was annoyed that Dizzy hadn’t given Him any sort of Heads Up about the Living Conditions located in the Confines of This Skid Row Style Hotel. Lee didn’t harbor any Empathy for the Junkie He just wish He had been made aware so He wouldn’t have to worry about being fucked with by the Cops or Possible Arrested Himself. Thats the exact kind of bullshit He didn’t need in His life Lee kept telling Himself over and over again in His Head until He realized Dizzy was Still Talking as They went.

        

“You want to know HOW I knew that Junkie fuck was just Fine and Dandy? I’ll tell You it’s quite simple You see it like a Car Crash. If your about to inevitable be in an Auto Accident They say the Best thing to do is Go Limp. Which goes against EVERY Natural Instinct for Self Preservation instilled in Humans since Day One. If You try and Brace Yourself say by putting Your Hands on the Dashboard all Your guaranteeing is if You live that You’ll have Two fucking Broken Arms.”said Dizzy in a Tone of Voice that reminded Lee of an Educational TV Show Narrator.

“Thats some seriously fucked up Real Life Shit right there.” respond Lee flatly as He still hand’t fully come to grips with the whole Junkie incident, and was currently wondering what Other Oddities way lay in wait. Lee generally didn’t give a flying fuck about Anything as long as He knew what it was or what was going On that was all. It seemed like a normal request to Him at any rate.

        

“It’s like when Your watching one of those Extreme Skiers who attempt to Ski down some insane Monstrous Mountains at a fucking 65 degree angel and shit, and then They wipe the fuck out falling Hundreds to Thousands of Feet as You watch Them Flopping around like a Rag Doll. It’s the exact same Principle since initially the Skier is knocked out and thus goes completely Limp. It’s the only way Any of those crazy motherfuckers can do that shit without Dying when They Fall.” said Dizzy ignoring Lee’s suddenly sullen mood.

Be Sure To Tune in for Next Weeks Lactose Intolerant Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (42/365)

Thanks for Reading,

  By Les Sober (12:33 am)

2 Lunatic’s Late Night Text-A-Rama

Here We go with another behind the scenes glimpse into the Late night conversations via text between SpaceDog and Myself. This Late Night Lunacy leads to numerous Ideas for both Posts and for the Blog in General.

That and Neither of Us can afford a Mental Health Professional aka a Shrink.

And Here We Go:

 It all started when I texted this Pic to SpaceDog.

 

SpaceDog: Is this some kind of penis brainteaser? So apparently there are sneakers now with LCDs in the tongue that can play music videos on a loop.

Les: I found the Pic on some egotistical Art Gallery’s bullshit Website. Holy Shit fuck Air Jordan’s. I’d loop a Musical Porn Montages and play that shit everywhere I go.

+SpaceDog then Texts me a Link for further clarification barstoolsports.com+

Les: Life Beyond Beer Pong?! Lmfao Good game all around.

SpaceDog: I was gonna write an article saying how much i hated Pedro guy from Real World because it was the anniversary of his death, and everyone said nice shit and i literally hated him so much i never watched the show again after.

Les: Ha. Sounds like you should, fuck everyone else’s bullshit.

SpaceDog: I want to actually get people angry though to bring traffic to blog……

Les: Not a bad tactic and a great idea I’m all for pissing people off. The more the merrier. All that shit aside more traffic is what we could use bout now. Where the fuck did all the niche dwellers fuck off too?!!

SpaceDog: My head is so motivated for weeks but my body feels dopesick. At one point I didn’t jack off for 10 days. I honestly think that is the longest I’ve ever gone since like i was 14 before i even knew what my dick was.

Les: 10 days goddamn, Thats really crazy, funny, and true statement.

SpaceDog: Well actually maybe when i was on dope, but that was only because i was fucking my dude in various fats food bathrooms (and woods, us gays do love sex in the woods.)

Les: Its hard to jerk off when you keep nodding off every 5 minutes. The Old banging in Bathrooms an American Sex Classic. Having a Woody in the Woods. Shit that sounds like a gay porn title.

SpaceDog: The sounds of autumn…rancid sperm hitting decaying leaves.

Les: Holy Shit! Lmfao!

SpaceDog: The dead sperm inspired me, new blog Lmfao

Les: DEAD SPERM is My new favorite Band.

SpaceDog: If u can guess what it is about….you win 5 bucks paypal.

Les: My new saying “When faced with Writer’s Block remember dead sperm inspires. $5 for My Ferrari GoFundMe. Hmmm…

SpaceDog: Dead sperm and the smegma seven…i want a big band like George Clinton and The Funkadelics or Arrested Development.

Les: Smegma Seven, whats that a porno remake of The Magnificent Seven which was the American Western remake of 7 Samurais?! Awesome.

SpaceDog: Damn i saw your 3rd fucks. Was it cathartic for you like taking a giant shit. If i could have miracle coffee (or Adderall) right i would seriously put all your fucks in there to see if i could come up with the missing fucks.

Les: Its fucking weird I just think of a couple things I’m all Fuck That, and then its like fucking Autopilot the fucks just start to flow. Honestly there might be a Part 4. Who Knows. Thats why this one was titled “F List Continues Baffling Its Creator” which is nothing but the fucking truth. Or perhaps Adderall in your coffee. That be truly awesome if you could/did. Shit I wouldn’t personally it be too much even for me. Saw your Tweet Very Cool.

SpaceDog: The one from 10 seconds ago or the rambling list of musicians that will never play together. I think if i had like 19 pieces of paper i could do it. Oh wait it’s 2018 we have computers.

les: The on that started “There’s a lot of  shit on f-yourblog.com Lmfao. Then you wrote something about healing yourself with music. True these damned Digital Type Writers are rather amazing.

 I then texted this picture to SpaceDog

SpaceDog: U made that? Thats filthy.

Les: Unfortunately not. I saw it and it did remind me of some of My shit which is why I get a real kick out of it. When I look at it it makes Me laugh like a motherfucker.

SpaceDog: I need to find a good dick pic for u. I owe u like 20 penii

Les: I uploaded it today to the Blog for future use Lmfao.

SpaceDog: D***

Les: At least 20. D***?

SpaceDog: So the autocorrect suggests dick and 1000 things way worse. Yet when i do the talk to text it censors me.

+SpaceDog texted Me the Mushroom Emoji followed by The Egg Plant.+

Les: Thats SO FUCKED, it fucking censored you thats fucking balls. Your on Shrooms and have an Erection?!

SpaceDog: I couldn’t find tiny hands that mighta worked.

Les: For What?! Some sort of Pedophile Emoji Code, I’m Lost.

+I then texted SpaceDog the New Bizarre Smiley Face Emoji+

SpaceDog: Idk I’m just still frustrated i don’t think theres an emoji for anal.

Les: WTF is this New Emoji supposed to fucking represent exactly?! I can’t believe no one has put out X Rated Emojis yet for fucks Sake or Weed Ones either. Its a Life Alert Emoji it means Help me I’m having a fucking Stroke! It could be what an Emoji looks like when it cums.

SpaceDog: Omg the new life alert commercial is funny as shit. Im gonna look for a dirty emoji APK right now.

Les: Motherfucking Life Alert, Can’t say the classic tag line its fucking Trademarked now even though they don’t use it in their ads anymore. Good for You happy hunting.

SpaceDog: Im down i don’t need it to find accounts on mu device and modify my sd card for the sake of a few titties.

Les: Yeah fuck all that Bullshittery. I wouldn’t bother either fuck and that.

SpaceDog: Apks are great let u bypass the store on android but idk how the fuck to fix my phone….Wow i found a porno sounding chick on Spotify…the first 8-12 seconds are passable but now my ears might be bleeding.

Les: Ah Ha! A fucking Loophole.

SpaceDog: I almost don’t want to link it until u piss me off somehow.

Les: Her musica gota real porno vibe that fucking funny. Good to be prepared I suppose.

SpaceDog:Well she’s in the bed according to the lyrics and fuck me is a lyric. Sounds like the equivalent of a dj scratching a record but it sounds more like chalk on a blackboard.

Les: My username on Spotify is !@#$%^&*()_+ figured that shit out. That’s about it so fucking far.

SpaceDog: I guess this chick cancels out Maggie Rogers, i don’t think i have seen an authentic hippie chick with talent ever (at least not a millennial one)

Les: Me either. Who is Maggie Rogers?!

SpaceDog: Lights on…..shes some chick sol discovered. I almost dropped my were when i first was listening cuz i expected it to be trash. She has a bit of a stevie nicks vibe but looks more like a pretty, less skank, stoned janis Joplin.

Les:Damn gotta be damn decent to make a man drop his weed. Nice combo more power to her.

SpaceDog: Haha oh look bohemian rhapsody is charting for the 190 millionth different decade.

Les: 37 new Fucks to be listed now. Bohemian Rhapsody WILL NEVER DIE! Just like fucking Stairway To Heaven or Areosmith’s Dream On.

SpaceDog: Fuck Spotify for making me add 60 new artists i like overtime i listen more than 3hrs at once…theres 38.

Les: Some shit lingers like a stale fart. 38 it is. Spotify has that fucking effect.

SpaceDog: Remember when we used to actually have to talk to other people for bands or actually go to shows or have some dickhead at record exchange push some bullshit.

Les: Oh fuck yeah I remember the pre tech music World.

SpaceDog: I do just not the brief period between the end of napster and the beginning of youtube. I was way too fucking high.

Les: The Assholes at the Record Exchange were a bunch of pompous ass condescending cunts. I think we’re in the same boat with being high and timelines.

SpaceDog: All I remember about then was avril lavigne. I really think that was like 1 of every 3 songs played on the radio for those years or maybe she used to make me nod out…she kinda looked like a teenager junkie.

Les: Avril Motherfucking Lavigne. Radio replay rotations killed Radio. She was the original Tween Musical Artist.

SpaceDog: Yeah theres like 2 tolerable stations here. The rest cause me suicide watch.

Les: The only Radio listen too is in My Wife’s car which has Satellite Radio which cursing and lack of commercials aside rally isn’t a hell of a lot better than regular Radio. I haven’t been able to find a Rock Station in over 10 fucking years for crying out fucking loud. Cunty Country Music Awards.

SpaceDog: The one station is still alive believe it or not here. WMMR. Pierre Robert still there too. She has the one lyric “I don’t know who you are but I’m with you.” I made out in the back seat with some stranger lady twice my age because it fit the lyrics.

Les: holy fuck stick, WMMR is still around good for them. Pierre Robert has to be 150 by now goddamn. You were on When Cougar Attack!!

SpaceDog: I’ve had several. LOL

Les: That lyric nowadays sound like the average Trump Supporters. Blind Ignorant Lemming Twats that they are. Several?! DAMN you’ve been on fucking Safari and shit.

SpaceDog: This one was consent at least. I had some midget lady who looked like the one in kindergarten cop try to follow blow me. Except i was passed out in a chair LOL

Les: A real fucking legit midgit?! Thats like trying to play Pool with a Limp Rope.

Les: where there any Senior Citizen Sluts?! After the midget I fucking have to ask. Poor Little Lady was denied the dick.

SpaceDog: She was like 50 LOL, there were a senior slut who blacked out, fucked some guy she had no clue of, and left her teeth there.

Les: LMFAO!! She fucking left her fucking teeth there, well good news id I hear gum jobs are amazing. I accidentally fucked a 89 year old woman once. She got confused and wondered into the MEn’s room at the fucking Mall when I was jerking off in one of the stalls. Anyway She busted in on me, thought I was they Bathroom Attendant,dropped Her drawers, and sat down to use the Toilet. I freaked the fuck out and started yelling at Her, but She was weak as shit so She’d try to stand the hell up only to fall back down on my dick. Worst part of it all was She pissed all over my balls. LMFAO (is that wrong?!) Fuck the American Pie pussies I have that gross humor that will make People actually dry heave.

SpaceDog: Thats funny as fuck. That type of comment exactly makes me wish that old people comedy with david allan grier and wiki lawrence was on anything but network tv.

Les: Just some weird imagery that popped into My fucking head the rest wrote itself. The pissing on My balls makes Me laugh like hell not sure why.

+My phone rings and its SPaceDog but it rang once and stopped+

SpaceDog: Sry idk how that happened. Yeah thats when it got my tbh.

Les: That’s cool, I can’t talk on the phone which pisses Me off to no end, but My Wife is sleeping and on Puppy Duty. And with these insanely high as wannabe Cathedral ceiling We got here its goddamn impossible to avoid an echo of some sort which ironically also pisses Me Off when I’m on the Phone most of the fucking time anyway.

SpaceDog: It (his phone) thought the couch was my head.

Les: It’s a Short Bus SmartPhone.

SpaceDog: I guess i had my ass there and it was warm and it thought it was my face.

Les: Well they’re called Ass Cheeks so….

SpaceDog: OK now Im legit putting my phone on my ass to see what happens. Oops i have no ass…no call. Not even bare ass cheek works…it only likes hot ass.

Les: Awesome, all in the name of SCIENCE! Shit I figure Bare Ass would have worked.What about if you put it under your balls?! Just drape those bitches on the phone. Might work.

SpaceDog: Yeah maybe if i wasn’t on my stomach laying down my ass would more resemble a face cheek. How about in my rectum, then if i don’t text u back but only send you back repeated emojis u do the same for me since my phone is on vibrate? Thanks.

Les: Just type by squeezing Your Ass Cheeks together like some fucked up Morse Code. Sure if it works I got your back. Do the Emojis have to make sense because if they’re just random I’ll be honest I might cheat and stick it in My Dog’s ass.

SpaceDog: Ok so i really thought it would if i stuck it off to the side of my ball sack but neither side worked.

Les: GODDAMNIT! Oh well Phone wins. All that’s left is to try Tainting it. Not sure how that would work though.

SpaceDog: Yeah now that i am rubbing myself down with the phone like it’s a metal detector wand i think the show is over.

Les: I’m so fucking Posting this tomorrow. Like a fucking Metal Detector LMFAO Brilliant.

SpaceDog: I went in from the back on the taint. And it made my font big like i have a fucking jitterbug and am 90.

Les: Did it work and if not try doing it again in reverse this time.

SpaceDog: And it keeps telling me voice input is unavailable.

Les: It enlarged the font, that’s fucking insanely amusing.

SpaceDog: I gotta hit the front bar.

Les: Voice Input Unavailable BOO to that BULLSHIT.

SpaceDog: Ok i did the back again. I almost taint dialed someone.

Les: Getting Closer, Progress is being made. If it works and someone answers just scream “TALK TO MY TAINT” and hang the fuck up,

SpaceDog: Pits

Les: That works I suppose as well.

SpaceDog: Pits not active…..the smelly one nor the distinguished one. Anywhere else?

Les: No I’m pretty sure I’m out of ideas at this point. The Genitals were really my Wheel House. Lmfao.

SpaceDog: Yeah my taint is a lot more talkative then i would have thought, and blind.

Les: Blind I would expect, a talkative Taint indeed.

SpaceDog: Oooooh I’m a fat fuck imma try side boob.

Les: The Taint Factor Winner for 2018 is Gus Gifferson with a Record breaking 10 inch Taint.

Spacedog: Q9q SP.p .o

Les: Side Boob CLASSIC. Q9q. Sp.p .o I believe it’s ALIVE!

SpaceDog: The first was the right boob. the app was the left. Left boob also is blind. Font big again.

Les: Interesting. So the enlarged font is reoccurring you say. So Your saying Your right Boob can see?! As if instead of a nipple You grew a fucking eyeball? Still worked blind or not.

SpaceDog: I wish you and your wife were here i was gonna have her test it with her lady parts but then i realized my dan is on this phone and if she stuck it in her after me that might be 9th degree rape in some states. Why Stop?

Les: Valid point I don’t need a 9th degree Rape Baby on My hands thank you.

SpaceDog: That was my mid chest then me saying what and stop because my tv went to steve harvey and i hate that guy.

Les: NEVER SHALL WE STOP!

SpaceDog My phone is strictly dicktly anywhere after tonight.

Les:I know You added him to the second Fucks list. Strictly Dicktly?!

SpaceDog: Yeah bad memory some queen used to say that in the 90’s. I always wanted to punch him.

Les: Don’t fucking blame You there I would have too. I’d say pondering sticking My phone in a Kangaroo’s pouch to see if it works accept I’d end up arrested and charged with molesting a fucking Kangaroo or some goddamn thing like that.

SpaceDog: As long as i didn’t have to stick it in a joey.

Les: LMFAO! Crackhead Man Whore Junkies Need Not Apply.

SpaceDog: I meant the baby kangaroo but I’ve been joey free since those ten guys in my 20’s who kinda had no name.

Les: I mean we could shove the phone into some Junkies access they got from shooting up so much shit and see if that works. I know what You meant No Worries I just saw an opening so I took it. The Nameless 10.

SpaceDog: I will stick it halfway in tomorrow at some point. I need to prepare for that and I Zombie. SpaceDog and the 10 ancient queers of the earth. The short form is 9 Blackouts and a broken toilet.

Les: LMFAO EXCELLENT. !0 Ancient Queers, Short Form, I Zombie.

That Ended That Night Transmission.

Brought to You By,

 SpaceDog & Les Sober   

The Delinquent Detective Ep.1 : Screaming at a Deaf Dog

Heads Up For Readers: There is a good bit of obscene language and blasphemies contained within this piece.
Rock Hard woke with a startle one hand one his set of bulbous brass balls, and in the other empty bottle of Lithuanian Whisky.
The goddamn phone was ringing relentlessly BRING! BRING! like a goddamn banshee. Rock sat up and wearily rubbing his face trying to dispel the thick fog of yesterday.
Rock was no stranger to the endless trials and tribulations of life not by a long shot. Bullshit was his bread and butter.
Rock slowly made his way to the phone his feet shuffling across the thick scummy orange shag carpet barefoot.
Rock lit a cigarette irritated that some dumb son of a bitch had the fucking nerve to call him this early in the goddamn day. Rock reached the phone and unplugged it. Whoever it was fuck them thought Rock to himself.
Finally Rock thought to himself. Rock found people to be unbelievably irritating at best.
Rock proceeded to get ready for the dismal day that lay before him. Once Rock had shit, showered, and shaved Rock headed out to the office.
Locking the door behind him he started down the hall of The Royal Hotel lined with various delinquents. The monthly crew of cantankerous characters that inhabited The Royal Hotel, one of the BigCity’s finest flop house, was an unending revolving door of debauchery.
Rock tolerated these assholes because in a flea bag shithole no one sees shit, hears shit or says shit especially the police.
The residents of The Royal were the lowest of the low. There were junkies, hookers, pimps, cults, drunks, drug dealers, shut ins, welfare cases, white trash, Neo Nazi’s (that hangout at the lobby bar), traumatized Vietnam vets, thieves, bikers,and the mentally ill with no family.
It wasn’t always that way though. Back in its heyday The Royal played host to musicians, writers, artists, film makers running the entire gamete of the art world.
Business men booked suites for their corrupt conferences where they found ways to fuck over the working man. The staff was professional and proud to be part of The Royal.
Now Tina “Two Tits” Earner the local hooker was constantly prowling for pricks in the Hotels shitty dive-like bar. Homeless Hank the blocks beloved gutter dwelling bum was living in the lobby. The rest of The Royal was a fucking freak show a goddamn insane circus.
Ignoring the nasty noises of fighting and fucking that bled through the paper thin walls Rock made his way to the downstairs. Rock stopped briefly to shoot the shit with the front desk clerk.
The clerk was an anciently old man who worked the front desk and had for 52 years named Barnabas.
“Whats going on you nasty old bastard?” Rock asked casually with no real interest.
“I’m just a goddamn gargoyle perched on this goddamn stool watching the derelicts and dopers coming and going, it’s an endless parade of the broken and disheveled . Once the sun sets the city streets flood with sinners,” replied Barnabas weirdly staring off into space.
Rock stared at Barnabas wondering if he was senile or just being a mean old shit .
Rock walked briskly to the front door to escape the scum of the Earth confined within the rancid Royal.
Before exiting Rock checked to make sure he had his two faithful companions with him his flask and his revolver. Once he had established he was in possession of both Rock burst out on to the street.
Rock waded through the littered streets coated in filth and grim. The bums lurking in doorways like living corpses that had abandoned all hope in humanity.
The hookers were returning home after a long cold night on the street selling their souls as well as their snatches.
Junkies posted on the corners heckling change from the few regular folk who hadn’t fled the dying neighborhood bathed in decay.
Over laying graffiti adorned the street plastered across walls and any available space was now coated in spray paint.
Rock didn’t mind the dereliction in fact he welcomed it. People are parasites that don’t belong in palaces was his opinion.
At least when your deep in the shit surrounded by the dregs of society you know where you stand.
There is honesty in hooliganism. You can take everything at face fucking value, no bullshit required.
Rock chain smoked a whole pack of cigarettes on his wayward walk to work. So what if smoking led to fucking cancer Rock didn’t give a rats ass what the Surgeon General had to say on the subject.
Rock picked up a couple of new packs of smokes at newspaper stand around the corner from his office. Rock’s office was a located in the Burner building within walking distance from The Royal.
The Burner was a small building sandwiched between to sky scrappers. The Burner had always been a mega for unorthodox and unconventional professions such as psychics, weapons dealers, and in Rock’s case Private Detectives.
As he approached the front door of his office on the 3rd floor of the Burner he saw a person pacing in the dimly lit hallway.
Rock was already wondering what the stranger was all about when the stranger turned towards him and said……………

To Be Continued in
The Deviant Detective Ep.2 : Getting Directions from the Blind.

Catalog Of Humanity (The Vile Version)

The once grand city fell into the continuing chaos of decades of decay,

The businesses and those with money have abandoned this sickening city,

The whores loitering outside of the local liquor store looking for love,

The strung out narcotic zombie working the corner cleaning windshields to feed his abominable addiction,

The open festering sores that line the limbs of the homeless,

The panhandler suffering through withdraw from drink or drug fidgeting in the door way of a flea bag motel,

The flop house littered with junkies cooking up and shooting up nodding their nightmares away,

The constant flickering of lighters from the derelict row home windows reminiscent of fire flies as the crack pipes burn on,

The entire city is a cess pool engulfed in the putrid stench of a sewer,

The crooked cops riding around in the streets high on their own brutality like Nazis scumbag sons of bitches,

The dirty little convince stores selling single cigarettes and lottery scratchers to the soulless and the suffering,

The dim florescent glow from dive bars windows beckoning the bums inside for a glass of piss poor beer,

The screaming machinery bellowing like a banshee from the chop shops,

The junkyard dogs chained up in yards of dirt, clumps of weeds, and piles of its own shit,

The pimps perched like perverted gargoyles waiting to be paid by their beaten and broken bitches,

The asshole teenagers from the suburbs driving into the city to prey on the unfortunate,

The drug dealers posting up on the street corners peddling potent poisons,

The gangs who wage an endless war of horror over disputed territories,

The bouncer ejecting a greasy client from the shadows of a back room illegal casino,

The overlapping layers of spray paint so thick one can’t tell the walls original color,

The plagues of rats and roaches devouring the city turning it into shit,

The cold gray fermentable walls of the State Prison looming large casting its silhouette across the southern side of the city,

The now defunct factories slowly rotting away in the winds of time,

The dead Vietnam vet who overdosed in his cardboard condo decomposing as his body waits to be found,

The piles of foul garbage that choke up the entrances to allies,

The deep brown tap water thats murky like mud,

The squatters that inhabit the vast city cemetery emerge under the dark cloak of the encroaching night to forage for food,

The front stairs of the court house teems with lawyers and defendants debating their legal fates,

The Public assistance offices are over crowded and under staffed as the government gives up on the poor,

The sea of condoms that surround the dumpster out back of the check cashing store where hookers trade in dick for dollars,

The methhead on a 4 day bender thats furiously fucking a dead pigeon in the desolate park,

The the old deranged mentally ill man who wonders the streets arguing with himself and losing,

The inhabitants of tent city sit around their make shift fires roasting their catch of stray cats for diner,

The bankrupt arena the city built without proper parking at the corner of Rape and Heroin,

The drunken man beating his kids since he wore out his wife before his tv diner,

The dead and the dying wallowing in squalor and their lost faith,

The cries of an unwanted baby unceremoniously deposited in a garbage dumpster by a terrified teenage mother,

The distinct crunch of empty crack files mixed with broken beer bottles under ones feet as they walk down the street,

The nightly fist fights that break out in the city’s central soup kitchen,

The crumbling churches now just idle monuments to a bygone god,

And this city of shit could be any city, all cities dying from industrial death,

And forgotten by history and humanity alike.