he used to sit up at night and watch across the valley to see where the lightning struck. but only on stormy nights. when there was good lightning. otherwise hed sit in bed and listen to the thunder, curling himself up in the comforter, trying to feel himself in the rumble. in the mornings hed head out across the valley, and up the hills on the other side. hed hop out of his little truck, the one with all the dents, and no tailgate, and two busted out taillights. hed hop out and inspect the hill, looking for any sign of the lightning bolts that looked so violent the night before. hed find things every so often, maybe a burned out bush or two, sometimes a shitty little tree with its trunk split wide open. hed stare at the charred remains for a moment or two, sometimes taking a couple of pictures, then hed hop back into the front seat of that tattered blue pickup, and hes just sit. hed sit there and look back out across that valley to where his house ought to be. hed think of the lightning, wonder why it never seemed to come to his side of the valley. hed think of the rain, where the fuck was it. he could always see it in sheets from miles away, but it never seemed to get to his house. thered just be the rumble and sheets of lightning, never bolts. he was upset with the storms. why couldnt they pay him some fucking attention. but he never said anything up on that hill. hed just sit for a while, then crank that truck up, sometimes more than once, stubborn piece of shit, and roll it back down the hill. he tacked the pictures of bushes and trees to an old cork board in the kitchen. hed pray in front of that cork board every night, then hed go lie down in bed, and hope to hear the rumble.

more fiction.

i think this is a story worth telling. this is how she left me. i dont remember what the weather was like, christ who remembers shit like that really. it was probably cold, it was in the winter after all, but fuck, maybe it was one of those 70 degree days. not important though right? so anyhow, she called me, and gave me that 'i think we should talk' shit, that shit that makes you tense all up, like either 'oh shit, what did i do and how did she find out,' or 'what did she do, and do i really wanna know.' she said shed be over. so i hung up and waited. i tried for a while to convince myself shit was all good right, but of course with that whole tense feeling and all in my midsection, i couldnt just sit there right, so i paced. not back and forth like in a shitty cartoon or some shit, but id go to the bedroom, look around for something, never sure exactly what, and it wouldnt be there, so id try the kitchen, then the living room, then the bedroom again, but always pacing you know, trying not to think about whatever the fuck she was gonna tell me. but it didnt work see, i couldnt get my fucking mind off the shit, and so im just all wound up and dreading everything by the time she gets here, and the doorbell rings, and like i wanna panic, but thats a shitty idea, so i guess ill go answer it right, but even with my hand on the knob i think about like what would happen if i opened it and just like took off past her as she said 'hi' and ran like a mother fucker, like forrest gump dude, just took off and didnt come back til i got hungry. but that idea sucks too. so i open the door, and there she is, and i dont know why, but im surprised, and im sure she sees it, or senses it at least, cause then she gets all weird too, or maybe she was weird anyhow, and shes worried about whether im picking up on it or not, and so anyhow theres this whole weird vibe when i open the door, and i want to just slam it shut, and i even start to shut it i think, but she puts her hand out and stops me and says 'hi' like i knew she would. so we go sit down, and i turn the tv off, and she kind of looks at me wierd too, like 'you never turn the tv off, whats that all about,' but i leave it off and try to smile at her. it comes out all wrong and i can tell now that shes flustered too so i guess now ive gotta speak, right, so i sort of stammer, 'so whatd you wanna talk about?' and so she takes a second and says to me, 'theres somebody else.' just like that. what the fuck is that? so i kind of look at her right and all i can think to say is, 'for who, you?' and shes confused and nods, and i just sit there. just fucking sit there. just sit there. and this is seriously whats going through my head- 'dude, youre just fucking sitting here. dont just sit here.' and she says, 'well...' well fucking what?! 'well fucking what?! what the fuck am i supposed to say to that? uh, good for you. congratufuckinglations. what the fuck?' what the fuck. so i just sat there. she got up and left after about five minutes of me just fucking sitting there. after twenty-five or so i turned the tv back on. and thats pretty much how it went. like i said, it was winter and all. not a whole lot one can do about these things. so that was four days ago and ive been drinking alot. tomorrow i buy a gun.

wild bill wasnt really that wild
he rode a broomstick
with one of those fake
horses heads attached
and a string to hold onto
he even made the sounds himself
neigh, whinny, neigh

so ive always wondered
what do aligators think about
and so i asked one day
not an aligator of course
cause i cant talk to them
but this dude i know
who is all about aligators and shit
and he told me this;
aligators are complex beings
they sit all day and stare for prey
but they yearn for things too
like a warm dry towel
and food they dont have to kill themselves
and you wouldnt believe it
(and i didnt)
but they have little aligator dreams too
little aligators are just like
little kids, says he
they all wanna grow up and be firemen
they all want ponies
on christmas morn'
and they all wanna be
just like papa gator
who aint as mean as he seems to you
and me

so i drive
on the way to the video store
listening to kick ass funk
like the gap band
or early commodores
or the ohio players
you know
kick ass shit
on the way to the video store
pounding the steering wheel to the beat of the bass
singing out loud
veering into other lanes
with the windows down
and the ac on anyway
with the trunk stuck shut
and one tail-light out
all the way to the video store

they dont have the movie i want to see
but its okay
cause i got my funk
and its got me
on the way home

unlike you dear friend
i have important people
who owe me money

this site will soon be all haikus.

she said, 'give it time';
i said she could sit on a
fucking pineapple.

another haiku masterpiece from yours truly, lord pork chop.

a haiku.

things take time, he says.
what things, asks the girl, nineteen.
big things, like this one.

and another.

the pig is cold, oinks.
the cow too is cold, and moos.
i'm cold quietly.

no more haikus today. tomorrow perhaps.

this is fiction.

they sat in the back of the theater of course, cause nobody turns around in the movie theater, so the only time they had to worry about being seen was when some fuck with a bladder the size of a ping pong ball had to get up to pee. they sat there watching that trivia shit for a while, waiting for the movie to start. then the lights dimmed a bit, and the previews started. well, first there was that roller coaster shit, where you roll past popping popcorn and cups of coke so cold they sweat, but then the previews. her hand slid over, but he slapped it away, it wasnt all the way dark yet, there was still that little bit of light, which stayed on til the actual movie started, and he wasnt gonna be comfortable til that last fucking light went out. plus, it was kind of like the mile high club; you know, it doesnt really count if the plane aint off the ground. so he made her wait. she sat there kind of half patiently, sipping out of his gigantic coke, the one that cost $3.50; he sat there eating his $2 junior mints. he had the condom in his pocket, and reached in there just to make sure. the preview was showing a car chase, then a boat blowing the fuck up, a dude with a parachute; james bond type shit. she was sulking now, and every once in a while touching his leg, trying to creep her hand up his thigh. he kept slapping it away, giving her dirty looks, which he was sure she'd see, even in the dark theater. he was glad this theater was one of the ones with the armrests on the seats that moved, the ones you could put up out of the way; you could lay down if you wanted to. he looked around, no one else on the row. good. she was touching his leg again. christ, fine, he'd let her this time. he took a junior mint out of the box, threw it at some dude four rows up, missed by a hair. dude turned anyhow. he pretended he didnt know anything about it. dude turned back around. she was unzipping his shorts now. the little dull light was still on. fuck, how fucking long were these previews; a horror movie now. unzipped, it was out. she was laughing quietly. not at it he thought, at the situation, its a fucking movie theater for christs sake. he'd only known her for what, three weeks, and they were about to fuck in a movie theater. she was hot though, so that was good. what the fuck was gonna happen if they got caught. holy shit, thats her mouth. the little light went off. feature presentation.

this is my new blogger. you may all post. though i have decided it will remain literary in scope. poems, short stories, brilliant original quotes (forgiveness is for fools, get the fuck out of my house), and the like. simply email your good friend lord pork chop at magicnumber12@yahoo.com you shall be connected with permanent access, until you fuck up, at which time i will revoke your access until you prove you can be trusted again. that is all. begin here.