Posted by NL on January 02, 2009 at 14:10:59:
The Civil War-- Part 6
It's all a FUBAR now but that's all right, kid. Just stick with me and I'll show you the sluice gates of hell in the land of ganglionic goo, hot now and the coming thing. Can't stand up near an old soup tree without being pissed on by a maniac. And the soldiers! They just keep on cummin' like an old civil war movie and the cannon shells are blowing up things in the dirt, in the grassy fields between the dirt, and I can't suddenly stand it anymore. Too much grape! All I ever wanted was a cold cup uh soup in my mitts to slake the thunder of my thirst for girl soup in an old fashioned way. Don't you remember girl juice soup? I do. I remember that dame who sold soup on the tube for reals in her gingham dress, and in a way I would have loved to back her up into a tight spot and strangle her till her head exploded. But I always have a handy patch kit! Be prepared!
You just better stick with me kid. You're too young yet and green behind the ears to appreciate all you can see and seem. The play is not young but it takes experience to call the shots, know the hits, the sweet spots, the soft spots, the neck holds, if you can catch my drift. Now take that dame in the ruffles and socks. I'd take her aside and plow up her sandcastle with big hempen ropes heh, heh, that you can take to the bank. Don't bury her. Leave it out for all to view, viddy it, pal and swim in the soup. For intstance: I knew a guy once just like you with hair all over his head and five or six testicles where his brains used to be, all dolled up like a breadpan slick on his head. Dressed like a killer on drano and shat stools you couldn't stomach on a dead day. I saw him at his play one time, dressed like that but in a more wooly blue suit than yours and crabfish strung in festoons at his crotch. Gals love that shit. You didn't know that did you? Oh yeah, there's a lot I can show you. At any rate that old geezer got up to shoot the moon, stretched his head up and up and up till it scraped a hole in an old field tent pitched a mile away so badly did that noggin bend backward, out and back like a sack on a willow stick but miles and miles away. That did it for him. We were not impressed, see, because he took it too far. Take it too far and you'll be like him, dead and buried in a cheap blue suit with too many buttons. God I hate that! The gals like it though if you can live through the ordeal. Don't try it. It ain't worth it. There are cheaper ways to get your kicks. Like, some gals are inflatable! Did you know that? Kid, you better just stick with me. Now If I was to take you over there by that whorehouse and hand you a twenty dollar bill would you look upon me as your personal saviour? You should. I'd do that for you and I'd hand you a length of rope, this spare clothesline I carry. You could do worse.
The thing about that sweet racket we call the GREAT GANGLION is that so many outlets run into it and even more run out and every greaseway is paved with murder or so we believe. And believing , let it be so. I ascended an airplane once and collared a cloud but it wasn't nearly good enough for me. I coughed through a fruity straw but I couldn't see that as a way to make ends meet. Until you hit the ganglion thing you just don't count in this game. Hit it hard and hit it often, like a bottle. That's what I say. Kid, you better stick with me.
I saw somebody once so covered with thick matted fur the very gerbils warped up strong as they almost never do and attacked him with vehemence. He was not amused. He tore them off his hide and grew ever stronger and before long we was all skeerit of him and his impossible thews. Ever hear of thews? Admiration caused most of us to emulate his ways though it was hard to do with the lateral prongs, the ridiculous soup he ate, slopping it through sieves to weed out the bones. Some people scruple at bones. Others crud it up with verve, steering steadily toward home until they cripple their souls, their very souls! Don't you EVER do that! Son of a bitch are you ever lucky to link up with the likes of me! I knew a gal with aluminum hasps holding her carriage together. Victory's secret had no hold upon her but she was not too proud to put her head in a noose. You are probably holding that part of yourself even now, and wondering how much you can believe. Believe me. Kid, if you don't believe anything else, you better believe me. Am I not larnin' you? Am I not teaching you the ways of the ganglion, how to use it to kill, and beside that-- style? You need to be stylish. The uniform speaks volumes! Speaking of style that part in your head is going sideways and that is not cool-- better to cut it off and flatten it out with grease. Grease is something you can't lose with. Grease is something you can't choose with. I swear by it. I think I swore by lard and yellow sulfur and black gunpowder once. I mean, had to, with these loose streaks and running sores. Those three-sided wounds don't heal. They just fester on. Don't tell anyone I said that. We all have a fault or two but I have less than many. That's why you must always stick to me. Let's go that way for a while, and I can point out more girls. Gosh, you do like girls don't you? Else why am I wasting my time like this? Oh you can't be sure. I knew a guy once with sharp feet and a festering hair-doo like the world would end. He had every advantage but then he went lame, sat on an egg and that was the end of him. Don't you do yourself like that. Else why am I wasting my time? Look, let's stand over here. That's a girl. That other thing is a grill. Very different. Don't you get wasted on some cheap half-assed wine and get 'em mixed up. Otherwise I have surely wasted my time. I like to eat soup, too, don't you? There's something about soup. I got mixed up one time at a party and ate the backwards time flip wrong and reached into the basal ganglion of a hell cell and got flipped sideways and upside down. I called for my gram pap and screamed hep me hep me like a goddamned clown. I wasn't having much luck you see and might still have trouble getting straightened out. The bad thing is when that eye goes up on its stalk of gristle. So far I haven't seen that here. Getting dark isn't it? Who the hell are you anyway? You don't belong! I don't even know you! HELP ME! HELP MEEEEE! Will this war ever end? I think I see Gettysburg ahead...