"INSERT PROFANITY HERE" is a fast fiction that asks the question, How long would it take a hundred typing monkeys to come up with a conspiracy theory about JFK that relates it all back to the "missing link" ?
Inspiration has come by way of a very talented Vancouver artist by the name of Robert Mearns. If you listen very carefully late at night in Vancouver, you can here the faint sound of his paint brush, slapping beautiful things on ugly old walls. Go to his site and buy some of his paintings.
But most importantly of all enjoy the following...
The elevator door does its horizontal guillotine routine and my building super nearly busts a nut.
"Oh Christ !! Who in their right mind would fu-" He closes his mouth on a now trapped speak bubble full of fucks and shits all compressed into a mumble of filth. I apply a Keat's quote to the profanity: "Heard melodies are sweet but those unheard are sweeter." Yes, very fucking sweet.
He rubs his hand over the graffiti plastered on the shiny elevator door. At the center of the mess is a monkey with JFK's face. His head 180's in my direction.
"If I find that any of your friends..." He pulls out his most menacing glare for the occasion. What a prick. Accusing me. He knows I'm fucking colorblind. So I let into him.
"Is it because I'm young ? Is it because I'm a teenager that you're accusing me of wrong-doing ? Are all teenagers collectively responsible for every spec of shit out there ? I can't paint. I'm colorblind." At this point, I'm shaking mad.
He lowers his threatening look. "Well if any of your friends are responsible for this - "
Strike two, fucker.
"Because they are teenagers and so they must be rotten to the core ? They must be glue-sniffing criminals who get off on messing shit up ? Come on man, we've been over this already." I stand my ground and the old geezer gives up and turns to rub his hands all over the graffiti again. Like he's Spock trying to communicate with that sentient boulder. "Ahhh I feel pain because there's paint all over me !!" Fuck.
The door opens on my floor and I walk out, waiting for him to let loose one last stupid accusation.
The door closes on this glum expression on his face.
He never would have guessed in a million years that I trained my monkey to pull that shit off.
Yeah that's me. A precocious kid with a monkey. From what people tell me, his eyes are an amazing green.
Inspiration has come by way of a very talented Vancouver artist by the name of Robert Mearns. If you listen very carefully late at night in Vancouver, you can here the faint sound of his paint brush, slapping beautiful things on ugly old walls. Go to his site and buy some of his paintings.
But most importantly of all enjoy the following...
INSERT PROFANITY HERE
The elevator door does its horizontal guillotine routine and my building super nearly busts a nut.
"Oh Christ !! Who in their right mind would fu-" He closes his mouth on a now trapped speak bubble full of fucks and shits all compressed into a mumble of filth. I apply a Keat's quote to the profanity: "Heard melodies are sweet but those unheard are sweeter." Yes, very fucking sweet.
He rubs his hand over the graffiti plastered on the shiny elevator door. At the center of the mess is a monkey with JFK's face. His head 180's in my direction.
"If I find that any of your friends..." He pulls out his most menacing glare for the occasion. What a prick. Accusing me. He knows I'm fucking colorblind. So I let into him.
"Is it because I'm young ? Is it because I'm a teenager that you're accusing me of wrong-doing ? Are all teenagers collectively responsible for every spec of shit out there ? I can't paint. I'm colorblind." At this point, I'm shaking mad.
He lowers his threatening look. "Well if any of your friends are responsible for this - "
Strike two, fucker.
"Because they are teenagers and so they must be rotten to the core ? They must be glue-sniffing criminals who get off on messing shit up ? Come on man, we've been over this already." I stand my ground and the old geezer gives up and turns to rub his hands all over the graffiti again. Like he's Spock trying to communicate with that sentient boulder. "Ahhh I feel pain because there's paint all over me !!" Fuck.
The door opens on my floor and I walk out, waiting for him to let loose one last stupid accusation.
The door closes on this glum expression on his face.
He never would have guessed in a million years that I trained my monkey to pull that shit off.
Yeah that's me. A precocious kid with a monkey. From what people tell me, his eyes are an amazing green.
posted by kevin spenst at 6:15 PM
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