02-25-2014, 03:38 AM
One time I got in trouble for copyright infringement
because of something I used in a multimedia art thing.
Shut up, and Fuck™ you, I told them.
Not in the good way either,
since I can't afford it.
Everything I see and hear
is an interruption of something I like.
Makes watching my favorite shows annoying;
songs get stuck in my head,
breaking my concentration.
But there are many pretty girls to meet,
I see at least three every time I go to town
but if they're not on their phones,
they're with guys with hardcore expressions
who are apparently walking dildos,
or obnoxious young clowns in skinny pants
cracking jokes that remind me of the annoying characters
they add in final seasons of shows
when they know they've jumped the shark.
It used to be adding those characters
that caused them to jump the shark,
now I think they just do it anyway
since they can't think of anything better.
I can hear girls saying,
God it's sexy the way he holds that phone to his ear.
I watch him walk by telling the person on the other end
how he was about ready to cut somebody;
if he's really talking to anyone at all.
He probably is.
There was nothing else, so I went for the 40 year old waitress
that didn't like me in school, but now she does
if I let her stay afterward
to see something on tv at nine o'clock.
It's an episode of Degrassi where the Homecoming Queen
is in love with the retarded boy in the wheelchair
that's also gay and castrated
and she ends up failing her senior year
because her depression brings her grades down.
I thought it was a little stupid,
so I told her that and she agreed.
Then she wouldn't have sex with me because of something
somebody had said about me back in high school.
We could've done it before the show like we'd planned,
but I wasn't turned on enough until I started watching it.
These art things don't do any good,
it's all about making money or getting sued,
none of that interests me.
I picked up my remote control but nothing was on;
on the radio, there were commercials on every station,
I found NPR, and listened to an interview
with a guy about his groundbreaking anticopyright
multimedia artwork featuring a Pepsi logo
printed around a crucifixion scene with the Neil Young song
This Note's For You playing while selected lines
from T.S. Eliot's The Waste Land scroll up
then down the screen.
When the guy mentioned his girlfriend,
I got mad and turned the radio off.
Then I poured all the Pepsi bottles down the drain,
broke my Neil Young C.D.s in two,
ripped the pages out of The Waste Land and Other Poems
and jerked off to a rerun of Pretty Little Liars.
Then I wrote something called Art is For Girlfriends,
but it wasn't any good,
so I decided to learn how to play the guitar,
or lose weight in case it didn't work out
and I'd have to settle for lead singer.
because of something I used in a multimedia art thing.
Shut up, and Fuck™ you, I told them.
Not in the good way either,
since I can't afford it.
Everything I see and hear
is an interruption of something I like.
Makes watching my favorite shows annoying;
songs get stuck in my head,
breaking my concentration.
But there are many pretty girls to meet,
I see at least three every time I go to town
but if they're not on their phones,
they're with guys with hardcore expressions
who are apparently walking dildos,
or obnoxious young clowns in skinny pants
cracking jokes that remind me of the annoying characters
they add in final seasons of shows
when they know they've jumped the shark.
It used to be adding those characters
that caused them to jump the shark,
now I think they just do it anyway
since they can't think of anything better.
I can hear girls saying,
God it's sexy the way he holds that phone to his ear.
I watch him walk by telling the person on the other end
how he was about ready to cut somebody;
if he's really talking to anyone at all.
He probably is.
There was nothing else, so I went for the 40 year old waitress
that didn't like me in school, but now she does
if I let her stay afterward
to see something on tv at nine o'clock.
It's an episode of Degrassi where the Homecoming Queen
is in love with the retarded boy in the wheelchair
that's also gay and castrated
and she ends up failing her senior year
because her depression brings her grades down.
I thought it was a little stupid,
so I told her that and she agreed.
Then she wouldn't have sex with me because of something
somebody had said about me back in high school.
We could've done it before the show like we'd planned,
but I wasn't turned on enough until I started watching it.
These art things don't do any good,
it's all about making money or getting sued,
none of that interests me.
I picked up my remote control but nothing was on;
on the radio, there were commercials on every station,
I found NPR, and listened to an interview
with a guy about his groundbreaking anticopyright
multimedia artwork featuring a Pepsi logo
printed around a crucifixion scene with the Neil Young song
This Note's For You playing while selected lines
from T.S. Eliot's The Waste Land scroll up
then down the screen.
When the guy mentioned his girlfriend,
I got mad and turned the radio off.
Then I poured all the Pepsi bottles down the drain,
broke my Neil Young C.D.s in two,
ripped the pages out of The Waste Land and Other Poems
and jerked off to a rerun of Pretty Little Liars.
Then I wrote something called Art is For Girlfriends,
but it wasn't any good,
so I decided to learn how to play the guitar,
or lose weight in case it didn't work out
and I'd have to settle for lead singer.
