JELLYFISH QUEEF CONCERTO

I have a reoccurring fantasy where I say "must see t.v." to a random person's face, then fire an uzi in the direction of their dumb smile.

THE HOUR OF PEACOCK LABIA

Recently my facial hair was out of control.  I kept imagining my mustache as a black girl saying "talk to the hand" at any food trying to pass through my open lips.  I also imagined my nose hair as the skinny cousin yelling "no ya din'nt!" to everything the black girl mustache denied.

My beard hair was the creepy uncle who likes to sit back, lick his lips and just watch.

Being a dragon isn't easy.

ABOLISH ALL MIRRORS

Let's talk more about the search query "Jereme Dean".

Every 6-8 months I google my name.  It's not like a calendar reminder is set.  Usually, what happens is I wonder if people are talking bullshit about me and check the internet.

I found a video on tumblr EE did.  The video is her reading a story I like from the Fast Machine anthology while wearing jean shorts and an american flag bikini top.  Fuck yeah.  The video is here.

I also found a blog named Deathcapades because of a post mentioning my name. At first I thought the blog author had a pussy.  After reading more posts I thought maybe the author was a guy/girl team.  Now I think maybe it's just a guy pretending to be a girl, or a girl pretending to be a guy.  Unsure, really. 

Having a difficult time believing a woman is capable of a sense of humor like the deathcapades author has.

Heh.

FLY LIKE A PARAPLEGIC OCTOPUS IN AN OCEAN OF SUGARED PISS

The old blogger required an additional module be installed for web logging.  I purposely didn't utilize it.  Statistics are for corporations and the insecure.

The new blogger has minimal web stats as an interface feature.  Kind of shitty because I log in to my account and there they are, these meaningless fucking statistics, complete with graphic charts.  What marble head has a tiny orgasm over this sort of data?

"34 page views today.  Feel validated."

The only good a forced stat counter has is seeing the terms searched to find my weak signal blog.  One person's search term: female masturbation at work.

Dear internet user, while I have masturbated on several occasions throughout my life, I do not have a vagina, nor have I encountered any vaginal masturbation while on the job   I believe it to be myth.  My apology for the momentary disappointment that is this blog.

The other search term people used to find my blog is "Jereme Dean".  Unsure why people keep googling my name.  I'm not important.  Shit, I hardly exist.  My ex-wife does like to keep tabs on my life because she's a big fan of my poetry, I guess--hi, Maggie!

Does a statistic exist to show the people who pronounce my name correctly when searching for it?

On an unrelated topic, when I smell an open jar of coconut oil a naked black girl materializes in my mindspace..

MY YACHT IS YOUR EMOTIONAL BREAKDOWN

The introduction for Sam Pink's "Frowns Need Friends, Too." is a mustard fart away from being finished.  Writing it felt good.  The book is being re-released from Lazy Fascist Press.  Fuck yep.

Maybe you didn't know Ani Smith interviewed me a while back.  It's the first and only.  You can find it here: interview.  Yeah, those women in the picture have dicks.  Pretty sure theirs are much bigger than mine, too.

This piece was solicited by an editor for an anthology.  The original publication in Lamination Colony is the only publication I've felt good about.  I'm really thankful Blake published the writing.  Totally think I owe him an aggressive blow job as a thank you. 

The second part of the life outline will be finished soon, I hope.  Unsure what I'm going to do with it.  Email me if you have any ideas: jdean33442@gmail.com

Below is a picture of me and my dog, Little Dave.  He's the one popping a boner.  I named him after a poet friend of mine.  We should be on the cover of a soft-core homosexual porn magazine (if such a thing exists).

(beat your meat with old men)

THE PEACH LORD OF AQUATIC SEX DREAMS

Here are some random lines.  Maybe I'll use them in poems one day.  Probably not.

***
The best voyeurism is a woman performing the ritual of the refigerator pickle.

My day as a high school teacher was spent finger fucking female students.  Don't judge.

Nathan Lane gives lazy blow jobs.

Lady, I don't want to fuck but I'm willing to watch your facial expression while I choke you.

 Short, fat women with over-sized mammary glands are always afraid of large dogs.

Masturbating to the idea of immortality is what makes us human.

Ring pops are nature's sex toys.

The board game "Don't Wake Daddy!" was based on the real life game "Sexual Assault".

Pubic hair: grow that shit!
***

TEAM WORK IS MASTURBATING WHILE SOMEONE GUILLOTINES YOUR SOFT NECK

Have you ever walked around your corn syrup city and thought, "Man, this is some bullshit.  Where's all the hot snatch?"  It's here, with me, in LA.

Hollywood is a pussy mecca.  No shit.  My favorite pastime is observing women.  Not creepy, but not clandestine either.  Feel like I'm an affable lecher.

I like to imagine a woman naked, but replace her vagina with a harmonica.  A large chunk of my mental process is spent debating if a particular instrument is petite or over-sized  and clown like.

Any sort of movement by the female form stupefies me.  Running or jogging, dancing, fighting, whatever.  My brain shuts down all auxiliary function.  I could watch hips until I die.

Anyways, what blogs are worth reading these days?  I never stopped reading Sam Pink's blog.  Ani Smith has a blog--she is my friend and has a sensational harmonica, I think; pretty sure hers can sing two tunes at once, too.  Oh yeah, Blake Butler still has a blog.

Please don't recommend tumbler pages.  I hate tumbler.  All white space and picture overload isn't for me, unless it's a page of nothing but cock pictures.  I'm cool with that.  But the page has to have all sizes represented.  Massive cocks are only so interesting when those are all a person peeps.

Is Xenga still a decent place to hook-up with suicidal, under-aged girls?  Hope so.  For all our sake.


What should I read, fags?

WISH FOR HANDS

Chemtrails are the scientific equivelant of aerial herpes. 

America loves you.

No homo.