Thursday, December 11, 2008

Crappy Endings (2006)




Crappy Endings
is one of my personal favorites. Although it is a bit rough around the edges, all the artwork was completed within 2 days and it somehow makes sense despite being entirely improvised. All that to say, I generally don't like happy endings.








I Salaryman 2006-2008




Over the years, I've nurtured something of a hatred, no wait disgust would be a more suitable word, toward the salarymankind.
As hard as I try, I keep having these disturbing ideas about them and what they secretly and not-so-secretly do. This is more of a work-in-progress than anything else, but since I very rarely work on it, these few pages remain an interesting sample of how twisted and perverted I believe these serious looking drones to be. Of course, they are not all balding, sadistic, sex-starved gnomes with a penchant for sodomy and under-aged lolitas, most of them are just boring... And I'm an evil misanthropist. Please enjoy!

















Short stories, poems and non-sequiturs 2004-2007






2004


Hello ugly world, tomorrow we'll be gone.
Fiona Turned on her palm pilot and vanished.
Ken opened up a can of beer and died.
Diane ate a cockroach for breakfast.
Derek sang a Michael Jackson song.
Terrence made a movie with his tongue.
Piotr danced in front of his grandmother.
Yuki drank her pet's blood.
Lee got a job at the unemployment center.
Cindy smoked a magic cigarette.
Lloyd permed his hair and dyed it blond.
Linda took a taxi to escape from self-abuse.
Fred lost his finger and never found it.
Doug cooked a chocolate milkshake.
Coco sucked a man's toe.
Ernest played with the janitor.
Bill drowned in the kitchen sink.
Tora payed for safe sex.
DJ Van broke a needle in his arm.
Megumi came in her Tokyo Disneyland panties.
Marty wrote a novel and starved.

Moustachu (French)
Depuis hier, je porte la moustache. Je suis donc allé voir le spectacle de Plastic Bertrand avec ma moustache et des amis.

Feel like a nimnul
I own a t-shirt with Robin Williams as "Mork the friendly alien" on it. He used to be a funny guy, i wonder what went wrong...Oh yeah, he kicked the coke habit.

La vie en rose (French)
Non, ceci n'est pas un hommage ni une reprise de la chanson d'Edith Piaf, mais bien une petite réflexion tout a fait égocentrique, bref un petit truc dont je vous décourage de lire, tout simplement parce qu'il est futile, complaisant et il ne peut intéresser nul autre que moi.
Mais bon, comme je l'écris ici, allez-y, lisez, si vous en avez l'envie, je ne fais que jouer a l'hypocrite, parce qu'au fond, je voudrais crier LISEZ-MOI, DÉVOREZ-MOI, ENGLOUTISSEZ-MOI de vos yeux avides de sensations(prétentions?)littéraires!
Alors, la vie en rose...Vois-je la vie en rose ou serait-ce du sarcasme simpliste du plus mauvais goût?
Serait-je en train de ressortir la vieille carcasse de la chanson française(pour ne pas la nommer!) avec la malhonnête intention de la farcir de tomates et de champignons?
Oh, que non, bien au contraire, je vous ai déjà avertis, ce texte ne sers pas a partager une opinion ni à faire une critique sur la société de consommation ni a chier sur la tombe de mémé Piaf, ce texte ne sers a rien!
Je pourrais bien en profiter pour faire l'éloge de ma moustache mais...Hop! Y'en a plus. Psssscht, fini!
C'est désormais le néant entre le nez et la bouche, le vide pillaire, rien à rajouter!
Mes amis? Ils vont bien, ils sont gentils....(ooh la la, maintenant je m'auto-censure!) Ma vie amoureuse???Laquelle?
Du pognon? Vous voulez-rire? Du plaisir? Je suis le prototype du baise-sans-jouir! Heureux? Oui, mais c'est de la poudre aux yeux! La beauté? Vous vous foutez de ma gueule?
Négatif, moi?
Bien sur que non, vous ne voyez pas? Je vois la vie en rose!

Pills n ' hoes
I've been having a sore throat for the last 3 weeks. I went to the doctor twice and the diagnosis was completely different on both occasions. The first pro stuffed me up with pills and whatnots, the second one asked me if I had been seeing prostitutes in the last few months...All in all, they both had no idea what to tell me, because they obviously had no clue about what my problem could be.
Since I stopped taking pills yesterday and I'm off the 'hoes(!!!) since last week, my health is starting to get back on track. Now, maybe this sickness was due to my recent lack of productivity,
It is time, my dear Marty, to pick up the brushes and paint! In the name of art, put to shame those lousy witchdoctors! They deserve giant-size portraits of their deformed genitalia! I'll make one of them a twisted, pill-popping freak and the other one a sexually-ill king of filth, his kingdom a field of infected elephant slaves!
...Man, I already feel much better!

Ginza-St-Laurent
I was coming back from work, and as I walked down the street, I met a student I used to have back in Ginza. What a surprise! I wonder what are the odds to meet someone you know, like that, out of the blue, someone you knew all the way across the sea and suddenly, POP! That person appears in front of you, in downtown Montreal... It felt weird but it was nice to see her, though I couldn't remember her name at the moment, sorry Makiko!

2005

Hunter S. Thompson
Goodbye Dr Gonzo.


NAPOLEON
Heres the first part of a little thingy I've been writing on a stream of consciousness, I dunno if It'll ever continue but here's the 1st part anyway. It's called NAPOLEON.

1. Another night of liquid sounds
The foot-soldier were moving at a destructive pace, and the only places left unconquered remained in lands left untouched by the mechanical hand of humanity.
As their feet crunched and broiled branches and dead leaves, the men from the 18th regimen walked fearlessly amongst the savage tribe of the U-pah, the Rain People.
As the skies poured endlessly, no other voice could be heard than that of a U-pah baby, crying in the darkness of an old wigwam.
Sir André lit his cigarette, protecting it from rain with his left hand as Mister Dupont was much obliged to use the last few drops of his favorite gasoline fueled cigarette-burner, to his deep chagrin. He had paid 200 francos for that beautiful object and there he was, milking it to its last drop, in the middle of the jungle, doing nothing but harm to those poor indigenous souls with his poor skills in shamanic aid and lighting cigarettes for this uh... Effeminate, Sir André.
The rain kept pouring for hours ,and, as the men were setting up their camp for the night, they chose amongst the U-pahs , those that triggered their fancy and killed a few of those who protested. Sir André and Dieter Pandragon chose a few young boys to dispose of as they pleased. This was a night like so many others, since they entered the thick greens of the equatorial rain forest. Deep into the night, Mister Dupont kept reading, trying not to hear the liquid sounds of copulation and regurgitation surrounding him. He was reading that old book again and again, the only one he had ever owned, La Peste, by Albert Camus.
He fell asleep shortly after finishing the first chapter for the 82nd time.

2. Morning in a mechanical garden
Sir André woke up in a bed of dead birds, as his reluctant lovers still slept near the guarded entrance of his enormous synthetic tent. He got up and walked slowly towards a beautiful wood crafted mirror, made of the finest of crystals. He inspected himself and smiled at his slightly messy appearance. He had a wonderfully well crafted "renaissance" style mustache, that he kept trimming as regularly as possible, going as far as having a sweet young man carry one of his mirrors along, no matter where, no matter the situation. He had his hair cropped very short, and with his manly chin and clear blue eyes, Sir André had no problem at playing games of seduction, and could very well stand strong as a leader with those good looks of his. Every man wanted to follow him and some of them, though not especially inclined in some cases, would have done anything to share the same bed as the man made of kaleidoscopic dreams, the heart and soul of this mission, the hard and bent cock of war. As he went out of his tent, an aroma of burnt flesh surrounded the camp,
and the morning mist thickened and the corpses were surrounded by all kinds
of wild animals. Lions and tigers roared, serpents hissed, hyenas laughed and the dead became instant fast food for the animal kingdom.
The wild bonfires from the night before left the whole place in shambles. Sir André asked his assistant to come over, and as he asked the soldier to wake up the troops, a loud and strident sound awoke the men and scared away a few animals, but not the lions, who were enjoying their meal as if it were their last. Between their fangs,
bones crunched and flesh tore apart.
Mister Dupont was already up, along with the other men, and lit himself a Dagobert cigarette, his favorite brand. These pink cigarettes were very popular in those days, as they were cheap and had a delicate vanilla aroma, though the taste was in fact rather strong. Women didn't smoke that kind of cigarettes, most women enjoyed the escapism of Britco opium, which was a great alternative to the boredom most french ladies suffered from, during the dark period of the 18th century. This boredom was due to the fact that most men were in other countries, courting other women and living other lives.
Dupont couldn't remember how long it had been since Napoleon first dispatched his troops in this damp, filthy green hell, neither could he remember the last time he had slept with a woman. The distant memory of Elisabeth, his first one and only love was quickly fading away, his picture perfect romance crushed in the palm of a mechanical hand. He threw the Dagobert away, took out his plastic heart to check its pulse and proceeded to dump a few corpses in the nearest swamp, alligators would take care of the rest.

Scars
For some reason, I'm more and more attracted to scars and small imperfections
...latent fetishism I guess.

Spring
Things are looking good, I`ll be moving to Musashi-Kosugi next sunday and this apartment will be big enough for me to have my own little office, so my creative output should normally increase and, man, is it gonna be good to finally have a place to call home! Otherwise, things have been going rather well, I went with Eri to a flea-market and see the cherry blossoms in Harajuku, we had a good time though it was windy as hell and it was fucking crowded!
It was literally impossible to access Harajuku station!
But all in all, things are looking up for me these days, flowers are smiling in a very Murakami Takashi way...whom I despise because he's a talentless fuck.

Mexican Brain-fart
Sudden flash: It`s november 1998, I am in Mexico city, siting in Mildred`s dining room, Cornelius` Starfruit Surfrider music video is playing on tv While I`m slowly sipping a corona with lime.
Fastforward: She`s undone her bra, but that`s as far as it goes.
3 days, later, I`m beating up Rodrigo, her ex-lover, with a Doc Martin shoe in one hand for weapon.
Blood is flowing from his nose but I keep hitting him. I can hear the sound of braincells being pulverised.
Hours pass as if I had skipped a few chapters,
here she is, driving me to the airport, her puffy brown nipples showing through her white shirt as her nose drips and her eyes rain.
I am Heartbroken, but suddenly I find myself in front of this computer, 7 years have passed,
what the fuck am I doing, there`s no need to remember Mexico.

A dog`s tale (told by a rotting pile of intestines and guts)
Today is one of those days where life is crap, I just wish a truck would run me over. There I would be, in the middle of the road, bleeding to death, cumming and shitting in my pants. Well, instead of dying, I`ll just tell you a little story, but imagine that this story is being told by a pile of crunched bones, broken arteries and liquid feces.There was this young Japanese girl that I liked very much, she had this very pure and innocent smile, she was pretty much what one would imagine if he saw an angel or Audrey Hepburn or something.I don`t really remember how we got to know each other, but I must have been
around 20 years old at the time, and she was around 16 I believe.
It must have been at a party, in a club, in a gas chamber or on a rooftop, my memory is fading, but the fact that we met is the only thing that matters.
We got to date a few times, but she always had to leave early to either study or to keep her parents happy. I definitely had to bed her, so, one afternoon, I took her to a room in Kabuki-cho, a redlight district and did a few things to her, but it didn't go that far, she said she wasn't ready so she gave me a hand-job and left me there, naked and satisfied, my skin radiating under the cancerous black lights.I dressed up and left the sleazy room. Yet, I still felt like I could use some more sleaze so I headed up to a video store and went straight to the porn section. Hundreds of tapes surrounded me in a dizzying whirlwind of pornographic imagery, big juicy tits, sticky cunts, double-penetration, eels-up-the-arse, petite underage schoolgirls and bondage fairies.
I couldn't make a choice and I ended looking at gross-out stuff, my libido went away as pictures of shit-eaters and mutilation unfolded before my eyes.
Then,with horror, I saw my young girlfriend on the cover of one those tapes!
There she was, getting fucked by a golden retriever, and on other pictures, she could be seen licking the dog's ass or sucking its horrible meat-red cock!
As disgusted as I was, I couldn't take my eyes off of it,
and in my mouth I could taste the stench of a dog's breath.

Charline,
another lurid and heartbreaking tale of love and youth(PART 1)
Charline(female for Charles, in French) had everything I wanted and more, she was pretty beyond belief and at the age of 14, already did modeling jobs for some renowned Canadian agencies. She was a very boyish looking girl, which attracted me tremendously, I wasn't so sure at that time if I wanted a girlish boy or a boyish girl but let`s say that she was the one who defined my tastes in women(She also gave me the confirmation that I wasn't interested in exploring anything else than women). She had short and straight brown hair that she kept slightly longer on the sides and she twirled it like an actress from the 20`s, and she had big green eyes and a very frenchy-pouty face. She was slim and had a very healthy looking skin, which was so white that one could see her veins, which, not unlike big city highways viewed from the sky, formed a very interesting and organic labyrinth.
Trains, buses and cars, the gray sky, that smell, I remember the mid-90`s.
I was 16, it was the end of high-school and pretty much the end of the world, or at least, of my narrow little world. My friend JP had gotten some tickets for a rave party, LIQUEEN 2, it was called, supposedly organized by some obscure pseudo club-kid cum drag-queen or the other way around.
A few days went by, and I kept pondering if I should go to that thing or not, but the ticket`s appearance made resistance futile,(it was a red translucent cellophane sheet with cryptic little cut-outs in it) and there I was, on the dance floor of this old abandoned warehouse.
Okay, now, rest assured, I won`t start to describe the rave scene in any manner, but if you insist on putting yourself in the vibe or else, on wanting further information about this long gone scene (yes, I know, fragments of it remain), just put on some shitty Goa trance, Gabber and whatnot record of your choice
(I recommend Nuclear Ramjet, but that`s already too good!) or watch Hang the DJ, Human Traffic, Bounce or any other movie that came out too late to capitalize on it...
Back to the story:
That`s when Charline enters the scene, all the lights fade out and the military march begins, trumpets, clarinets and drums, an army of monkeys come in, brandishing various schoolteachers` heads on sticks, some skinny idiot dances in front of a dim stroboscopic light, moving in slow motion with an ecstatic ecstasy-fueled grin, my underwear`s wet as she enters the place, her hair`s like Minnie Mouse and confusion reigns, I can`t find words to describe the feelings I had, only random, disconnected words... Bliss, lipstick, terror, water, light sticks, mathematics, ticks, lotsa ticks.
That`s how we got to meet, there was shitty techno crap blasting our ears and there she was my boyish girl, smiling at me as if no one else existed, love at first sight, JP was there but let`s ignore him for the moment. We split an E together, my first E. We danced amongst the monkeys and loved every minute of it, the saliva exchange was at an all time high. Cut. I don`t remember anything else from that night. The morning after, I woke up next to a trashcan and found a small piece of paper in my pockets...
Time had passed, we met a second time and went on a date, well a very shitty date, we dropped some acid and went to see Get Shorty.
It was valentine`s day, so we ate lots of chocolate and kissed and penetrated each other`s various orifices with the tip of our fingers, our tongues and whatever else got in the way. The only other person in the audience(that was in a suburb, mind you) and the projectionist must have had the time of their lives.
Right after the movie, she said she had to go back home or else, her mother`d be angry, so I let her go, and there I was, with my acid(detergent, VCR head cleaner for all I know!) kicking in! I ended up sleeping at my sister`s place. The Ramones were on TV, singing the Spider-Man theme song in a wild distorted way, for all that matters, when I called my parents, they had robot voices, I kept saying "mom, you sound like a robot, rooooooboooot!!"

Charline, a tale of teenage despair and brain damage(PART 2)
(see previous text for part 1)
On the next weekend, she invited me to her place. She lived with her mom, a real bourgeoise and her older sister, who had a huge pimple on her chest, she said it was a third nipple. We ate some pot-au-feu with wine, in what amounted to about an hour of utter silence. Then, her mother said she had an appointment with friends, so me and Charline went up to her room, while her sister did whoknowswhat in the basement.
She started to excite me with her hands, but the cock n' mouth thing was a no-no, she didn't want to get her virgin mouth to be soiled by my stinky stick, though it was okay to fuck that other hole down there. It was to be my first time, so I was completely thrilled by the idea of finally getting down and dirty. I struggled to put the condom on, so she offered to help, but I was way too nervous, it was like trying to put a very small hat on an hydrocephalus kid`s head.
We were wasting time, I suggested to do it without the dang rubber, but she wisely refused. Then, the phone, rang, it was my parents, they were coming to pick me up in 30 minutes, shit!! As soon as she heard this, she put her pants back up and told me that we`d do it another time. I sadly agreed, my monster boner refusing to go away.
The weekend after, her mom allowed her to come over to my place, I felt that it would be then or never cause my parents weren't so strict and I was sure they`d have the decency to leave us alone for an hour or two, just for the sake of letting the kids "cuddle up" a little. So once my parents were gone, we instantly got naked and went under the warm sheets of my bed. She sure juiced a lot on that day, it was like squashing a peach between your fingers and the peach just never ran out of juice. She was now more than ready and she whispered, with a big slutty smile "let`s do it in the shower", I immediately agreed.
As we were about to enter the bathroom and fuck, I heard my mother inserting the key into the door lock!I pushed Charline into the bathroom and ran to my room and closed the door. She was stuck in there, naked since her clothes were in my room, so I got dressed up and went to say hello to my parents, a few minutes later, as they were busy doing their thing, I went back to the bathroom to hand her out her clothes.When I saw her face, I could tell she was pissed off.
My parents probably noticed that something was going on, but they never mentioned anything about it, I wonder how they would have reacted if they had surprised us buck naked in the living room, but then again I wonder how they would have reacted if they came in while I was directing a gay porn film for a bunch of artsy queers in their kitchen...
After having dated for a month or so, we finally went to our second rave party together. For some reasons, I have very few memories of that one. We were broke, so instead of doing ecstasy, we did speed, and this was where things went downhill, this was the first time that my very naive self noticed that this girl didn`t give a flying fuck about my bleached doe.
She just stayed away from me most of the night, but then again, I concluded that she was having her period, and it is a well known thing, even to pure souls, that women are strange during their period.
She just never called me back. Do you remember, JP? He appeared briefly in (PART 1), but was quickly tossed away. Well, that guy was kinda my best friend during that period, and, even though he had changed from a metal-head to a raver overnight, I still liked him. He was the quiet type and he obviously had a blast at those parties, but well, he just stayed in the corner most of the time, like an extra.
Well, I was looking for Charline everywhere I could, I desperately wanted to see her, we even didn't need to fuck, dammit, I would have waited the next 2 fucking years to pop her cherry if that`s what she wanted! But for about a week, she was never to be found. The best way to get over it was to call my pal JP, we`d go and steal some beers at the convenience store and just plain bitch about that skanky whore while smoking a few joints and looking at some crass GG Allin videos.
Well, Judas was with her, all week. They probably screwed all day long in his basement, at least that`s what I imagined at that time.I was boiling,
my balls were bursting out of my pants in anger!
REVENGE!
After destroying most of my belongings and putting on my Taxi Driver uniform, complete with Mohawk, a small hunting knife and iron caps, I was ready to annihilate them. I had become the anti-thesis of the fun loving candy-raver, I went down to his house, which was pretty close to mine, with my dad`s charcoal shovel in hands.I wanted to surprise him, so I had planned to enter his house from the backyard. I forgot, they had a dog, a mean one, a chow-chow. The dog startled by my presence, started to bark, so I hit it as hard as I could with the shovel. The animal wouldn't die, there was blood everywhere, possibly brain matter, but the beast just kept jumping and biting.
I finally grabbed the knife and repeatedly stabbed it and it died.
I then proceeded to enter his room. The window wasn't locked, so I slid myself inside the house. There was nobody in there. I took his mom`s hairdryer and put it near the bathtub, and filled the tub with water. I then took his pet rabbit and threw it in, you can imagine the rest... A day or two later, I met JP, we got to talk a bit, he said she never let him do anything with her, and that she had started to date a cooler guy than us, a guy wild enough to use needles.
We both agreed that our friendship was over but, out of guilt or simply because he was an evil sonovabitch who planned to feed the rabbit to his pet boa, he never said anything about this whole situation, that`s why they never found the culprit,
and I never got to talk to Charline again, oh wait, that`s a lie, I talked to her once, a few years ago, she was pregnant, somebody had finally managed to get in. She was 18.

Let the plastic child smile, Mr Mini
Mr Mini was the world`s smallest man. (Well, according to the National Enquirer and the Guinness book of world records 1987).
Even though he was relatively known, thanks to a few TV appearances as the world`s smallest man, he was a very bitter and lonely man.
He dreamed of a wife the size of Nicole Kidman, and to have a son, a normal one, gifted if possible, like Haley Joel Osment from A.I. But there he was, in a miserable motel room, drinking a bottle of gin, waiting to be drunk enough to fall asleep. He had to get up early the morning after, there was to be an important meeting with his agent about his career, or lack thereof.
In the silence of the night, as Mr Mini drank his last drop, a strange little kid appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, in a dark corner of the dimmly lighted room.
"Hullo there young man!" he said, heartily, albeit with a drunken slur.
The strange kid didn't reply, he just stared silently, without a blink, in the emptiness of the room."What the fuck`s wrong with you, son, the cat ate your tongue?" No response.
Mr Mini, in a fit of anger, got up and slapped the boy in the face.
The kid fell face down, flat on the floor, but there was no more sound than if somebody had dropped a feather on the floor. "Sorry, kid, I`m a bit jumpy tonight, you made me do something I wouldn't normally..."
Mr Mini finally noticed that the child was fake, it was made of plastic.
Without further thoughts, he took the kid and threw it out of the room and went back to his chair. He then turned on the TV, but the strange doll's face kept smiling at him in his thoughts, as if it were alive.
He started to feel uneasy, he didn't really understand what had happened and what was this thing doing in his room, but he couldn't take its image out of his head, and its head was floating in his thoughts like a gigantic advertising zeppelin. He locked the room`s door and gazed through the window, and as he did so, he could see the plastic child smiling at him, from afar, his stare immobile as ever.
Mr Mini closed the curtains, took a couple of sleeping pills with water and went to bed.He had horrible nightmares all night long, the devilish plastic child was very much alive in his dreams, and it kept insulting him with a demonic voice.
"You fucking ugly midget, rot in hell, no woman will ever want you unless she`s a crack whore, your child can only end up up being an overgrown fetus, just like you, you vile and purulent midget, you`re a living insult, you should have been aborted or flushed down the toilet, you goddamm` slimy excrement!"
Mr Mini woke up with an unbearable hangover.
As he turned around in his bedsheets, he saw, next to him, the plastic child staring at him, but this time there was anger in his red bulging eyes, and, paralysed by fear, Mr Mini silently died in terror. The following day, in the pages of the Big Tuna Tribune, one could see the world`s smallest obituary.

Ringo, I love you yeah,yeah,yeah!!
I`m broke `til wednesday (that`s what happens when you gotta pay your new apartment`s rent three months in advance, you`re broke for the following 5 months) but my good ol`pal Harold is coming to meet me after work, and we`re probably gonna get drunk or sniff some "VCR head cleaner"(I just had to write that again!)but, whatever we`re gonna do, everything`s on him, so he`s the boss!
If Bonnie Prince Harry wants to go and dance the night away with some crazy transsexual from Brazil or Peru, who am I to argue!?
If I had to choose though, I`d probably go to Milk in Ebisu, I love that place, though each time I go there, some people seem to believe I`m either Paul or Ringo(probably more Ringo...) and drunkenly hum some Beatles tune, as if they were waiting for my approbation, honestly, that somewhat sucks, but what doesn't suck is all the free beer that "Ringo" gets.

The love hotel is a gate of hell
They had been together for a week or two. He was a lazy punk and she was a skanky bitch, yet there was something in them that was somewhat likable.
Maybe because they were in fact pretty shallow, I mean he was mostly acting as a though guy, with bleached hair and piercings but everybody knew that by the time he`d be 23, he`d be wearing a suit and work from 9 to 5, just like everybody else. As for her, she`d probably get knocked up pretty quick, she wasn't careful or anything, and as skanky as she was, everybody knew she`d make a pretty good teen mother. They both spent their free time, and god knows they had loads of free time, wandering around Shibuya, with the rest of their orange tanned friends.
They wasted mom and dad`s money at McDonald`s and KFC or at techno-trance afterhour clubs, and sometimes they went to fuck at love hotels, where if you`re old enough to pay, you`re old enough to come. On that night, they went to a new one, one they hadn`t tried before, and they chose the Hello-Kitty room.
Everything was sickeningly pink. The carpet was pink, the walls were pink, the shower was pink, there was a pink tv, a pink sofa and of course, there was a pink bed. There was also a free pink comb and free Hello-Kitty toothbrushes, pink toothbrushes. Kitty`s reassuring presence could be felt all over the place, they could even rent Kitty videos and watch them while they mechanically screwed.
She went to the tub and started to prep it up while he walked around the room, naked. His cock was small, especially so that the air was pretty cool in the room, but he didn`t mind, he knew that as soon as they`d get it on, his small organ would be stiff as a baseball bat.
More than 5 minutes had passed, but she still hadn`t come out of the bathroom, she usually didn`t take so long.
He opened the door to the bathroom and saw the most horrible thing he had ever seen. There she was, lying in the bathtub, and blood was pouring out of her vagina. She started to yell like a martyr and her eyes gazed at him with utter fear, he could feel her fear, and he started to yell as well.
He wanted to get out of there but he was paralysed by fear. Blood kept pouring, it was a veritable geyser. Her body started to rip itself apart, it started from her crotch and it quickly went up, once it reached her abdomen, her stomach split open and her innards spurted out of it. She was still gazing at him, and her fear was still tangible but she couldn`t yell anymore, she had bit her tongue off.
He managed to get out of the bathroom, and as soon as he set foot in the bedroom, he threw up heartily on the pink carpet. Then he got dizzy.
His eyes started to blink rapidly, it was like one of those strobe effects. He saw 3 naked women with Hello-Kitty heads come over him. They attached him to the bed with pink metal cuffs around the wrists and ankles. The pink room was now blood red. He was scared, he screamed like he had seen his girlfriend scream. The Kitty girls then proceeded to cut up his chest. One of them pierced his nutsack repeatedly, blood drizzled out of his dick, all the while the others removed his organs one by one. Strangely, he was still alive, he could see them play around with his intestines, his liver etc.
For the first time of his life, he felt things would be allright. He saw his tiny dick on the pillow next to him and it was half munched, but he didn`t care anymore. He had felt absolute fear, and then true pain, what else could he ask for.
The hotel's cleaning lady went up to the Kitty room, and as she saw the disemboweled corpse of the young man, she made use of her strong vocal cords and with a primitive noise, called up a bunch of strange men, presumably the owners. One of them took a cellphone out his pocket and called up somebody.
"Oi, Bakemono-san, dinner`s ready."

The happiest moment of his life
Tomorrow`s my birthday. I`ll turn 26. I am young but I feel like an old fart.
Happy bithday old fart... Man, I feel like a dirty, old, beat-up prostitute. Not a pretty sight. As I type these words, I am sitting in front of my bland, impersonal desk in the bland and anonymous office of my dead-end job.
The sky is gray, roaches are frolicking and having a blast in the underground, while I`m sitting here with faceless corporate entities. This is so depressing.
I got drunk two days ago but I still feel hungover. Neon lights are buzzing. Beautiful women fill out my thoughts,
but I know all these women think I`m ugly.

The butt of the joke
I was invited out by my boss and the head teacher on my birthday.
They tried to turn me into a salaryman.
They made me drink as much as they could and bought me a plate of fish&chip,
I hate that stuff. From then on, they thought they had me in the pocket.
"Martin, you MUST listen to whatever Jason asks you to do, even if you disagree with it, you must not question his authority, you must not question anything. We expect you to do everything we demand without questions and complete abandon" they said.
I said to Jason, "are you guys trying to brainwash me or something?"
"No, no, drink, drink."
The guys underestimated me, it takes a lot to get me drunk, but since it was my birthday, I said YES to everything...
But sometimes YES means no, YES can also mean FUCK YOU ALL.
So, the next day, I stopped wearing ties, and plain shirts.
I can`t be anything else but me.
-Ignorance of the difference one can make, is a terrible mistake.
--Telling somebody that he`s all talk, no action but if you opened your eyes a little, you`d notice its not only talk. While you care only about your self-made files, others actually care about the people.
-Denial is an easy option.
-Passive-agressive discussions often don't solve anything, especially on one's birthday.
-I'm harder to get drunk than J, thus harder to convince or deceive.
-Once again, sometimes, yes means no, especially if you`re forced to say yes.

Oh and here`s my ass.

The Coocoo, where the spasm of life destroyed the black sun`s putrid a-hole
The Coocoo Galaxy was a very small galaxy, so small in fact that it must have been about the size of a bumblebee`s testicle( provided that they had testicles, which I am not certain of ), and it was standing alone in the confines of the universe, waiting for something to happen. The thing was, this was a very quiet galaxy, it had never been attacked by planet smashers, never been threatened by universal terrorists and the Celestials never gave a crap about The Coocoo, even less about its capital planet, Earth.
Earth was a nice little place, full of life and nature and everybody, from the Martians to the Plutonians, was fuckin`envious.
Al Jiterry, an earthling, was well aware of that fact. As a matter of fact, he had travelled a few times to Mars and Pluto for business purposes and found the places to be less than charming, nonetheless, he had a relatively good opinion of his foreign partners,because for one, they were very friendly and hospitable and the martian women had more than 5000 erogenous zones and multiple vaginas which was fantastic for the tourism industry. That was what he thought for a time, that is, until the faithful night of june 18th 2567 also known as A.N.A.L. DAY.
The day started normally for Al. He took a nanoshower, got his anti-matter armor on and ate a bowl of cockroaches with vegemite termites. He then went out of his cellular locker and flew off to work with his brand-new melon soda fueled jet-pack. On his way to work, he noticed something was wrong, the sky was bright orange, which was abnormal, the sky was usually kinda yellowish... As he gazed through the clouds, he could see the black sun rising, a huge black ring of doom.
Out of it came out legions of Martians and Plutonians armed to the teeth, ready to annihilate the human race. Al was struck by intense fear. He, who had enjoyed the delicious plutonian salsa, he who had surfed the dry oceans of mars, was now cowering in fear of those he had fraternized with.
...Then he farted.
Al, was a hero, thanks to a slight gas release mixed-up with melon soda fuel which created a fission in the space travelling device used by the invaders, their whole plan was destroyed and life went back to normal in The Coocoo. But it wouldn`t last.By the end of the year 2567, the earthlings invaded Mars, then Pluto with their new A.S.S weaponry.



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Me and my tattoo
I have ambivalent feelings toward my tattoo. I got it when I was 18 and I don't know exactly if we grew together or appart. Many people ask me "Is this/was it your girlfriend. No it isn't/wasnt, although I would have liked to have her as a girlfriend back then. To tell the truth, this tattoo was inspired by a cute passerby, one night, while I was shopping. She smiled at me. It was also inspired by that cute girl who worked at "Le Petit Saigon" at Eaton Center, also spotted during the same period, near christmas. Never had the courage to approach neither of them though. Yeah, I know, that`s not much, and I must say that those memories are very hazy now, but well, I designed that tattoo, and all it represented at the time was wishful thinking. Its funny how your wishes sometimes come true, in some form or another. What does this tattoo, represent for me now, almost 10 years later? I don`t know, it means so much because I did the design, but the basic idea's lost on me, even if it were not, it'd probably be obsolete.

The truth about Marty
Do you remember your life back in 2003?
What were you up to, how were you, where you any different from now? In 2003, I did many stupid things, things I would do again today.
For instance, I went on a trip to Thailand and made fiends with two nice ladies(or where they?) and brought both of them back to my hotel. It didn`t cost a penny and I got a free pen in the morning.
Then I went from Bangkok to Wah-Hin, a small beach resort on the east coast, south of Bangkok. There was an annoying american army guy next to me in the bus, after a few minutes, I snored my way to destination, completely ignoring the fact that he kept blabbering.
As I arrived in Wah-Hin, I took a room in a small B&B near the beach. The first thing I did from then was to get in my Speedo, put on the sandals and head to the beach.I sat down near a small beach-house and proceeded to drink myself to death or near. After a few bottles, Mr. Black(not his real name), the beach-house manager introduced me to Darren(his real name),
some Canadian guy working as a teacher in Bangkok. We got along fine,
so after a lousy billiard game(we were too drunk to get the sticks up)
we went to the Red Lite District or whatever they called it, and sat down with the prostitutes for a few more drinks. The one who sat down on my lap didn`t please me much, so I kept gazing at the street.
Suddenly, I saw the Tatooed One.
She had a big shining heart on the chest and her arms were filled with her previous lovers`names, Brian, Michel, Joseph, Amal, Takashi, Ramachandra etc. God, what a uber-slut she was, probably the Supreme Bitch of the Universe, the mother of a whole galaxy, her pussy, the gate of eternal pleasure.
That`s the one I wanted. I had never done it with a professional(well, not completely, ahem) and I decided that mine would be the filthiest and most beautiful of all. Of course, all precautions would be taken, I would use the best condoms on the market and make sure she washes herself thoroughly and that she puts baby-powder to make the skin all soft and perfumed.
So I just put the girl on my lap aside and got up and went out and gave a magic smile to the Tatooed One(not her real name). It worked.
On the next morning, Darren and the "ho` who was on my lap the night before" were watching TV stark naked, sitting on the second bed in my room
(I had invited them to join in, well not in a foursome kinda thing, more like you take a bed, I take the other and mind your business) and just taking it easy. The Tatooed One was sleeping like a baby, her shaved peach sprinkled with tiny drops of water under the morning sun. I ran my finger over Steve on her neck and went down to the shining heart and circled it a few times, then I went to Derrek and Then Joseph around her right elbow.
We all said good bye around noon, Darren had to go back to Bangkok and the hoes were they belong. The Tatooed One showed me a picture of her son, a 6 month old baby. She called him John, what a crappy name.
I asked about the father, she said she thinks it`s Brian. It was all free of charge. I spent the few other days and nights I had in Thailand with a nice little 19 year old Thai student who was in Wah-Hin to visit her family. She invited me at her parents house and showed me around temples.
Then it was time for me to go back to Japan, we kissed goodbye and I felt somehow brokenhearted. I went into some trouble at the airport, the security guards stopped me and searched me. Some cute girl started waving a detector of some sort around me. I smiled and she smiled back. Of course, they couldn`t find anything, but the gorgeous girl gave me her e-mail address and took a picture with me.
I had had a great holiday, but now it was time to go back to work, get blood tests and get married.

Preemptive strike
I can`t sleep lately.
Instead, I get a mix of anxiety and excitement, a desire for both exquisite tenderness and beastly impulse.
Then again, it might just be religious hysteria, and I suddenly shout biblical accents into the night.
All the young girls are getting raped and it`s my fault, I was the purest of them all and here I am whoring around the bars of Shinjuku like a bitch in season, and since I was the angel of my family before my fall, the vengeance of god is being that much more savage and merciless. Everything around me is turning into a massive rape.
It`s all kind of a preemptive vaginal strike from the big cock in the sky.

Bugs and all...
Went to the Meguro museum of parasites. I wanted to get one of those t-tshirts they had, with a big solitary-worm printed on.
Perfect for Christmas! Oh, and Meguro sucks, there are are no convenience stores that carry beer, and some areas of Tokyo are starting to get plagued by all those awful Natural Lawson convenience stores...
Parasites I tell you!


ANTI-Seminarian
I went to a seminar today, and I managed to be late, to stand out from the crowd because I was the only person not wearing the proper attire (black suit, black shoes, black heart) and I also ordered beer at lunch time to the profound disapproval of the admnistration staff.
To make it short, I had a blast!

2006

True friends are golden
I had never realized to what extent Van is actually a fucking prick.
I might be on the way to misanthropy, or maybe I just didn`t meet the right people, but I`m starting to feel like I deserve better than this.
To call this fat fuck a friend is like calling a turd delicious. He just came over to Japan with the hopes of fucking as many girls as he can, muttering horribly macho mantras that he keeps repeating over and over, hanging out with ultra-snobbish fils-a-papa slimes of the worst kind, getting wasted and being selfish...
ARRRGH.

They call her AV
I`ve been living close to exile from internet during the last year and a half,
but it seems I will return to the www in the very near future,
yes, I will finally have it at home, I`ll finally be able to download stuff
that I can`t find or can`t afford easily. I`ll finally be able to post more regularly, and I won`t have to watch only censored porn anymore.
(Although I don't mind "mosaic", I`m against all forms of censorship concerning sex, violence in the other hand* is an entirely different beast.)
*Haha, "in the other hand", get it?
In the same order of ideas,
I used to have this student in Suidobashi, maybe a year ago or so,
and we sometimes had coffee together and stuff,
well, I was watching this porn flick the other day and I`m pretty certain I saw her in it. Was she really Mayo, employee for Panasonic or is she in fact Arisa Kanno, actress for Soft Demand ? The answer to this question might be that I watch too much porn.

Derori, June 3rd 2006
Went to Derori in Shibuya with Harold and Rika,
it was absolute Terori. There was a man in red spandex covered with black leather bands and a gas mask, various ladies and gentlemen dressed in kimono and black tainted teeth, one of the owners, a 57 year old man, was channeling Iggy Pop as he walked around in his underwear, rubbing his pelvis against the patrons, he ended up getting a blowjob behind the bar.
Oh and there was also a guy who looked like a japanese construction worker, a towel on his head, and wearing nothing but lingerie.
The DJ was playing to worst of the 80`s, stuff like George Michael and Huey Lewis and the News.
Last but not least, there was a buffet, a true gourmet's dreams come true, peanut butter and banana sands, cheese, green pepper and meat souvlakis ...and disgusting and very humid rice balls...
So, did I enjoy myself? Uh.

Petit poème et gosses en trique (French)
Éloge à mon pénis par Martymartini

Engin incontrôlable
épée de jouissances
interminables
Glaive qui s'élance
vers les cieux vénérables
d'où les dieux le bénissent
Oui bien sûr c'est mon pénis!

Se vider à volonté
telle est sa destinée
Les vulves redoutables
les dunes et vallées immenses
le cul et la gorge du diable
avant et après gémissent
envahis par mon pénis!

Machine infernale
dont on admire la puissance
Et pleurent les misérables
et augmente le prix de l'essence
et gicle la vase et l'eau potable
Non ce n'est pas de la pisse
ce qui sort de mon pénis!

Non, il n'est pas très aimable
il sert même de punitance
chez les âmes charitables
que n'effaie point la souffrance
Mais loin d'être une offense
ces secousses d'amour véritable
dont la douleur elles chérissent
les grandes vertues de mon pénis!

Il faudrait bien mettre un terme
à toutes ces éruptions de sperme
que dis-je, elles en veulent plus
tiens ça rime avec prépus
Et si je dis crème
vous me voyez venir bien sûr!
Je vais vous dire je vous aime
mais pas lui, ce zob est une ordure!

table rase ou forêt vierge
rien n'arrête cette verge
pour elle tout n'a de sens
qu'au pays des filles interchangeables
et moi si jamais j'y pense
je m'en retrouve absolument coupable
Toutes ces idées réductrices
me viennent de mon pénis!

Tel Urbi et Orbi
ma tête et mon zizi
ma caboche et ma bite
mon truc ou ma trique
ma boite à termites
et mon vers lubrique
sont inséparables
une éternelle romance
charnelle et improbable
pour tous d'une telle inconséquence
mais chez moi digne de sacrifices
Oui, tout ça pour mon pénis!

il n'y a qu'un point
une ligne entre couilles et anus
une région, bref un coin
aussi fragile qu'un papyrus
ou les pétales d'une rose flétrie
forment les signes de la maladie
non ce n'est point qu' la chaude-pisse
mais la vérole, la peste et la syphilis!

cet éloge à la vie
ou plutôt à mon vit
tire à sa fin dans la léthargie
autant en finir au plus vite
Tirer un dernier coup
dans n'importe quel trou
de gloire à déchéance
voici venu la date d'échéance
Voilà ma mort, la belle
qu'on me ramasse à la pelle
Et en vous laissant sur vot' fin
j'éjacule entre vos seins
mais mes plus grands vices
je les réservent à mon pénis!

2007

Once upon a bleeding heart
Not so long ago, or pretty long ago depending on how old you are,
there was a young man who loved women and who loved the idea of loving women. He was a choosy one, but once he fancied a woman, he could not escape her. He was so entranced by the idea of pleasing, seducing and enchanting her that all his time, all his efforts were dedicated to this purpose, and more often than not, he failed.
Why, you may ask?
Because women, at least the ones he encountered during his youth (let's not generalize), had not concept, no idea of what romance is.
Their idea of romance was basically limited to a couple of totally impossible and hypocritical Hugh Grant/Julia Roberts movies,
and possibly getting flowers or chocolates on Valentine's day.
But the young man was inspired by greater things, at least in his eyes.
One night, after spending a couple of evenings with this delightfully beautiful black Venus, our misguided hero, like a modern Lothario, had the unfortunate stroke (definitely not a stroke of genius) to climb up to the young lady's bedroom window with a perfumed bouquet of purple lilies.
Unfortunately, as he was about halfway to his goal,
Venus 's dog noticed him and angrily, jumped up and bit his ankle.
The young man dropped the flowers down and the dog ran away with them.
Upon being bitten, he screamed in pain, prompting Venus to wake up, open her bedroom window, look down(literally), her sleepy eyes suddenly awake, with an angry glare in them.
"What the fuck are you doing" she said, in the colorful lingo of the times.
The young man, not so manly anymore, but definitely young,
couldn't find the words so desperately needed to explain this unfortunate situation. Yet she kindly let him in (through the front door),
took care of his wound, and chatted for a while.
The dog came in as well and gently licked the bite, as if he were apologizing for the trouble. Petals of the sadly missing lilies, stuck on his sweaty skin, frozen by the dew, the only remains of a once gorgeous bouquet of purple lilies.
The story should end here, but what next, you may wonder?
Well, nothing really,
just another broken hearted boy in a sea of bleeding hearts.

Backrubber
The other night, I dreamed I killed an old lady with a pineapple.
I felt incredibly guilty as she bled on the pavement.
Soon after, I ended up in Jail.
I was sharing my cell with 2 other guys.
One of them was giving a massage to the other
with a pair of gooey reptilian hands protruding from his back.
I was feeling uneasy, as they kept calling me by my first name,
and constantly begged me to give them cocaine.








Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Marty aka Cherry boy





























2008:
Here's me after 3 pints of beer and a day of work.
(Notice the crusty lips, that's probably due to long bouts of french kissing a Double-Quarter-Pounder with Cheese.)














Summer 2007:
Found out I was pregnant.
My evil twin took
over the beer
drinking duties.




































































































































































































































2004:
Attacked by a
shark.