I drift further and further out to see. How far will I go before someone notices I’m gone? It’s an unabashed ploy for a modicum of affection and when I am fulfilled I drift again. It’s just who I am…

Those goddamn cocksuckers tried to move in on my sweet little Rosa. So, I fixed them and I fixed them good. They won’t be back to bother her. The dead don’t grab your ass when you’re trying to serve them drinks.
Maybe I shouldn’t have stood up to all five of them but then again maybe they shouldn’t have tried to take me out after I pointed out their bad behavior. I’d do anything for my sweet little Rosa and I did.
They jumped me in the parking lot. I was ready for them. My fists were already tucked into my brass knuckles. The first jaw gave way like papier-mâché, the second like an egg shell. And that’s when they decided their own fate.
A bullet struck my arm. I dove behind a garbage can, pulled out my roscoe and started spraying lead. A few minutes later it was just me and a bunch of dead bodies.
Rosa came running out of the bar. “Oh, Burma I thought they had killed you.”
“It would take more than these amateurs to take me out.”
I grabbed her and we kissed long and hard as we stood on pieces of their bodies. I’d do anything for my sweet little Rosa.

Where do I belong in the scheme of things? Too much time on my hands. Too many hands on my time. There will never be another you. There will never be another me. So, what do you say? When the lights go out, when your eyelids slide shut, when it all goes down. I am waiting unrequited. Yeah, I know how it goes. Don't regret it. You are who you are supposed to be and me I'm still trying to be who I'm supposed to be.

I believe there is a conspiracy to keep me from getting my taxes in on time. Yesterday, I found one of the envelopes containing the taxes I had sent to the government. On the envelope it said, “Insufficient Postage.” The thing is there was adequate postage on the envelope. I weighed it. I have sent many envelopes of the same size with the same amount of postage on them and nothing has happened.

Something similar happened to me one other time and that was when I sent a rebate for $200 dollars in and it was returned. So, I lost 200 dollars and now I will probably be penalized for sending my taxes in late. I would love to get some reverse postal rage out on whomever the cocksucker was who sent my envelope back. Grrrr…

The past can never be revisited. Evidently, if and when a time machine is built it will only be able to travel back as far as the date on which it was built. So, if I build a time machine and twenty years later I travel back in time I can go back no further than when I built the time machine. Sorry, we will never be able to find out if smoking cigarettes killed off the dinosaurs.

We’d argue over stupid things occasionally like when we ordered a two pizza special on a Friday night. I would insist we should divide the pizza by bodyweight, since I outweighed her by a hundred pounds. She would have no part of this and took one pizza for herself. My pizza would be gone in one night and she would eat hers all weekend long. Sometimes love isn’t fair…

To be a writer one must write. It sounds simple, elementary so but it isn’t quite that easy. Sometimes the words will rebel. They will barricade themselves in, make demands, hold memories hostage and threaten to assassinate your dreams. They know they are in control and they do as they please. I plead with them, try to meet their demands but sometimes there is no compromising with them. Sometimes my writing is a casualty of this battle.

Nothing beautiful can come from a place like this. Centuries ago it was cursed by a dirty little witch doctor who walked about town with his grubby little hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather duster. The pockets had no bottoms and he would manipulate himself whilst gazing at schoolgirls at play. One day the constable approached him and discovered his secret sticking through the opening of his leather duster. The dirty little witch doctor was arrested and burned like a steak at the stake but before the lighter fluid was sprayed on the wood beneath his feet and the match lit he uttered these words, “Nothing beautiful will ever come from this place again.” And as his soul crackled on the open fire the trees around him wilted and the flowers turned gray. The town’s people became instantly old and their features became pointed beyond recognition. And true to the dirty little witch doctor’s words nothing beautiful has ever come from this place again.

These are not my words they are an imposters. Please call XXX-XXX-XXX4 (sorry I had to X out most of the number to protect the innocent) and give any information you might have pertaining to who this bastard might be who has stolen my identity. There is no cash reward but if you are an extremely attractive female I just might find it within myself to take you out to my favorite restaurant and get you drunk. Thank-you for your time.

Someone stole my Sirius Satellite radio out of my car. It really pisses me off that someone would get into my car, rummage through my glove compartment and take my radio. I reported the loss to my insurance company who is trying to wriggle out of paying me. They asked if the radio was permanent. In other words they are going to say that it isn’t permanent and not covered by insurance. The thing is, that part of the radio can be taken out of the car and you can listen to MP3’s on it but you can’t listen to satellite radio on it. It is a car UNIT! It only works through your car radio and is mounted in the car on a base which by the way, the thief or thieves weren’t smart enough to take and therefore can’t use the $500 dollar item they stole.. I just know those slimy insurance people are going to deny my claim and I don’t know if I’m more angry with them or with the person or persons that stole my radio. Either way I’m probably out $500...

When the word hits the page the force should leave waves that resonate through time. It appears though that the value of time has greatly depreciated--sprayed down with too much cheap perfume, dressed up in go go boots and set out on the street corner where the rift-raft rifles through her silk panties.

They will want to fill you with drugs and rearrange your thoughts because you feel too much, because you haven’t bought into their dream. Not joining the cult will have consequences. Your only solace will be in the brightness of the stars and the sound of the wind as you stand in the bathtub holding a space heater over your head.

The search for self is not a pleasant undertaking. One must lift up boulders and send them sailing—watch them smash down on everything delicate that surrounds you. Know that you will be held accountable. A great mind or a not so great mind lost in the limitations of flesh. Age will rob from you everything beautiful and loneliness will fill this void neatly. Ultimately you will have no choice but to be human.

You are a dirty old world. The perverted neighbor of the universe with the moldy loins of a Billy Goat. Something must be done…
I spoke to the head physician, who spoke to man in the moon, who spoke to Andromeda, Orion, and Pegasus. It appears your test results are back and I’m afraid it doesn’t look good. In fact it looks infected, spoiled, rotten…I’m afraid we’re going to have to operate. Large portions of you will be cut away and disposed of in the basement incinerator by that hoofed janitor we all fear so dearly. You will never be the same again…

She obsesses compulsively about her obsessive compulsions. Does this negate the obsessive compulsions? Like a giant snake that eats its own tale? Can she get her head around it? Inside it? Fighting the very thing that is fighting her. I wish her luck and will send her chocolates or perhaps mice to feed that giant snake…

I watched a show on the History Channel about what will happen to the earth when man dies out. In a way it was disturbing, seeing all the great buildings fall and all the roads grow over with grass and trees but in another way it was quite peaceful. I imagined myself walking through the ruins of our great cities, the skies cloudless and blue, the nights deep and dark and unbent by artificial light. I could imagine the silence would be beautiful; no more Harley Davidson engines echoing off the city buildings, no more jets screaming throught the sky overhead, no more tractor trailer brakes hissing on the highways. I thought I’d like to be the last man to survive and watch the man made world crumble around me. What a beautiful world it would be...

I Know Smoking is Bad for Me but...

I know smoking is bad for me but I do it anyway. No, I don’t smoke cigarettes and I don’t inhale. I smoke cigars.

In the evenings, after I’m done training people at the gym and I’ve had my dinner I head upstairs with a book and a cigar. I sit in my canvas recliner next to the ping-pong table and turn on my reading light. A good cigar will take me about 40 minutes to smoke and in that time I lose myself in my books. It is the most relaxing time of my day and it will be tough for me to give up the cigars again but I will…eventually.

WVU WINS!

Hmm, I guess the Mountaineers had no chance against the all powerful Sooners who many anaylsts said was the best team in the nation at the end of the season. I am so sick of WVU getting no respect. I was watching ESPN this morning and the commentator said Oklahoma "wasn't prepared" for the game. Can't they just say WVU kicked the crap out of them? That it wouldn't have mattered how well they "prepared" for the game that WVU was just better?

A word from Burma Ludlow

Some goddamn Nancy tried to sell me a bundle of flowers while I was waiting for my contact on the corner of Market and Second yesterday afternoon. He was wearing a suit that looked like it was made of burlap and he had a smile on his face that was centered around teeth so white they hurt my eyes to look directly at them.

“Get those goddamn petunias out of my face,” I said.

He stuffed flowers in my face. “There not petunias and you will go to hell for treating me like this. The profits from these flowers all go to God.”

I grabbed the flowers and crushed them in my hand. “I’m already in hell and besides God told me they use Tootsie Pops as currency in heaven. Now scram before I replant those flowers somewhere on your body.”

He stepped in my face and I dropped him cold. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not religiously intolerant. I just don’t give a good goddamn about your god so don’t try to force him on me or we’re going to have problems.

--Private Detective Burma Ludlow

The beard is gone

Okay, I got rid of the beard. It made me feel too crusty. It is nice to know that in over a little weeks time I can get a nice face full of hair. At least I have that going for me.