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Rant Of The Moment

Thursday, August 30, 2001

Ash Dot Man

Turkey breast stripe down the gutterball motorhead
Sub-sound Charley walker ash dot man
Up from the role call big fall windowless
Shrinkage with a cellular garbage can
Sipping from a bedpan Willy-boy shape shifter
Drugstore freakshows with tiny little vans
Out of my shower stall hairbone salad sifter
How in the phone-a-thon did you get in the band

Michael Forkan Thursday, August 30, 2001


He showed up at midnight on a dark cloud made of mysteries
Smoking nails and spinning tales of a world yet to be created
She couldn't stand his dirt and told him so
The beam sank to the bottom of the pond

Michael Forkan Thursday, August 30, 2001

Moon Useless

You circle all around your life like it was made of boards
Curse the rocks your dreams are dashed on cause you can't find the shore
Stroll off the parking lot when life has sweet rewards in store
Like killing Toll people, killing Toll people

If bottlecaps were grapefruit and kings had cupboard doors
There'd be no holes in Texas and mobile homes would have bulls on board
For killing Toll people, killing toll people

I don't know from piano wire where that little weirdo went
But Jesus in the ozone layer can't keep my head on vent
Cause you just have to yell 'money', have to yell 'money'!
Blink blink blink blink

You can't get off this rotten world though you're jumping pretty high
I'd like to pave your face with puddles and throw you out to sky
Cause you keep saying 'moon useless', saying 'moon useless'
Dirt dirt dirt dirt

You can't get off this rotten world though You gave it one good try
Andy and his handy vial can point you at the sky
You're brittle and derivitive, must be the reason why
You just have to keep plugging, have to keep plugging
Cry cry cry cry

Michael Forkan Thursday, August 30, 2001


Pity for salad and the fear it represents
Death to ego and the age of innocence
Iconoclastic plastic circumstance
I venerate free will, she just likes to dance

My kingdom for a cherry
I like to lick the spot
Discriminatory pallette
What kind of shit you got
Please pass the celophane
and the 16 gauge garrote
No pity for salad
I'm an offshore aqua-bot
Get to the G-string
Launch to the crash
Help me train this robot to pilfer all the cash
Rob from the poor box to eat out in the rain
I represent free will
She just digs the pain
I empathize with meat
I'm down there in it's veins
She was a frozen treat
Impossible to train
I ate the gizzards but that still don't explain
That's all
That's me

Michael Forkan Thursday, August 30, 2001

Jesus Dirt

Overkill cafe
Let's play cut-throat
There must be a savior among us
Are we really all the same asshole?
There surely must be a savior
Jesus Dirt

Like calling 911 in Chicago

Michael Forkan Thursday, August 30, 2001

Wednesday, August 29, 2001

It happened one sunday morning

> I was a bartender at an upscale restaurant bar. it was in one of those California-esque strip malls with a
'Naturally Women' fitness center and a 'Michaels' and a 'Borders'. I worked at Marie Callenders, it looked like the Hotel California. I was in the lounge, behind the DJ booth choosing music for Soccer-Mom families to somnambulu-masticate to as they ate their create your own vomit omelette gastrenomous delight
Big bearded hungover Dennis the cook came up to the glass and said " Hey Mike, some old dude is having a heart attack at the salad bar!"

"Don't fuck with me Dennis, I'm not in the mood" I was tring to decide between some harmless but annoying Boston or the same old really racy Rolling Stones album.
"No I'm serios Man, This old dude is having a heart attack at the salad bar!"
I felt a kind of weird sick feeling. "So what are they doing about it?"
"they called 911 and everybody's just sort of looking at him"
I didn't feel I had any right to leer knowing that I could'nt do anything myself, I don't know CPR, I'm not an EMT, I don't even have HBO.
Yet, my morbid curiosity got the best of me and I had to go look.
What I saw was a Middle aged gray haired man, his skin turning grey, laying on the floor comatose in front of the luxurious oval shaped state of the art salad bar facility, surrounded by freshly scrubbed people of all ages in their sunday best, glancing down at the dying man on the flloor and stepping around him to get to the hot bacon dressing, the fresh peas the hicome and the beets. They were stepping around him, glancing down nervously laughing an filling their plates.
There were mothers with their children taking there hands and waltzing them around the soon to become corpse and saying things like " Not too many M&Ms honey you have to have some veggies"
Neil was a big scary lookin black man. He was a viet Nam vet and one of the cooks I worked with before I escaped the kitchen. His fried chicken was the best west of Alabama and one of the most popular items on the breakfast buffet.
There was a terrified circle of chuch going looking Jesus freak crackers huddled around the old gray man.
"I can save him" Say's Big black Neil.
Everyone ignored him except for one Particurally dour sundress cracker spinstress who looked at him and immedietly gasped and slid behind her husband.
One big preacher looking Trailer park Billy Graham was grabbing everyone and saying " we need to lay hands on him, we need the laying on of hands"
Big nigger Neil says in his big nigger no nonsense voice " Do you want this man to live or do you want him to die?"
Sunday church clothes cracker in charge drops the hands of the other sunday best cracker eating chickens and just stares.
"Just get out of the way!" Neil looks around to see who's with him and spots one 14 year old boy. " run back to the kitchen and get me a crate or something, I need to elevater his feet" the kid says " Yes sir!" and takes off running.
"The rest rest of Y'all back up and let the man breathe" Neil is in charge now they realize he may be their only hope. "You, Bitty, yeah, You! get me some ice water, HURRY!"
The kid comes running back with a hotel pan " will this work?"
"Flip it over stick it under his feet! HURRY"
Now Neil is ferocioussy thrusting his clenched hands into the gray mans chest, rythmically, repeatedlly as the kid is elevating his feet with the hotel pan.
By now all the pea eaters and cottage cheese lovers have been intimidated to only choosing wares from the opposite side of the salad bar and quite a crowd is gathered.
The sound of sirens is here now and three men in blue clothes have rushed throiugh the door after stopping to ask directions at the hostess podium.
Neil is still rythmically thrusting his ham hand into the mans chest
"How long has it been?" the first one asks Neil
Three, maybe four minutes"
Theyre checking for vital signs now
Break out the difibrillator right at the sald bar
"We got him we got a heart beat! You saved his life man, thanks!" He shook Neil's hand
Then he's on the stretcher, then he's in the ambulance and then he's gone
The grey man survived and wrote a letter to the manager of the restaurant ( who was hiding upstairs the whole time) thanking him for his expedient response to his crisis situation. he sent pictures of his children and praised the lord, he promised to cut down on his cholesterol.He never mentioned Nigger Neil or even asked who he was.
I asked Neil " Hey man doesnt that totally piss you off?
He looked at me and shrugged " Man I saved a lot of white motherfuckers in Viet Nam.

Michael Forkan Wednesday, August 29, 2001

Why MIke can't read

It's 10:00 AM, I'm out of beer, I don't have cable. My VCR is broken.'Shoot me up ELMO' is on the Martha Stewart 'living' show. They're Making chicken fingers out of chicken breasts. Martha Stewart laughs to ELMO and say's " Arent they beautious?"


Michael Forkan Wednesday, August 29, 2001

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