September 8, 2008

DON'T ASK WHY AND YOURS IS OURS






Have you ever been taking a shower and as you're washing your hair and a drop of that powerful tar-smell shampoo, which cleanses and removes unsightly dandruff (commonly a problem with those black t-shirts from the commercials), makes its way across your protruding brow and into your dreamy eye? The offensive cleaner causes you to squint and blink rapidly and your mouth opens naturally in sync. You attempt to rinse the chemical from your eye with the rapid warm blasts from the shower head, after all, your eyes see perfectly well without this hair product (excluding you near or far sighted readers who may be in need of glasses or contact lenses).
As all this madness ensues and your eye reddens you see blurred visions of street corners washed out, of your past lost love, of that place where you had a drink last night, a war being fought by the catholic church and homosexuals (and a select group of heterosexuals) who insist the crucifix should be used as an anal pleasure toy, all in brilliant Technicolor from the motion pictures. A vision of a blurred telephone call, radio waves which ring incessantly all around, and a bloody kleenex on the table next to it. These blurred visions begin to ooze together as the shampoo swirls around with the warm water, that time you walked in on your parents fucking in the kitchen, and the science fiction story you read when you were 14 years old. The CBCs Americanization and the long reaching phallic cock of Hollywood which tingles across the wet lips before making its final and useless thrust. The ghost of that great aunt with the moustache whom you never knew too well. The 8mm projections of your best friend's vacation to New York City and the boat which your grandmother came in off of like one of those eyelashes now making its path down your derelict body. A blur of windmills in a field, they travel with great quickness and lay vast next to a landmark graveyard, which your clouded vision has placed there, and all the vapid spirits and lost souls are now walking through fog covered towns of red eyed children in red eyed houses with red eyed dogs and cats named Rufus and Molly as this smudge of a thought converts itself into a tingle down your spine, ending at your rectum.

Cleanse those final bits of chemicals out now and open up wide. Have you ever had that happen to you?
Yeah, me neither.

2 comments:

mooingfallacy said...

This reminds me of my life...

and when I wash my face with shampoo accidentally when I'm thinking too much.

BrendanGeorge said...

I once was almost blinded by bleach from hair dye, I wear glasses to this day to remind myself black is better than blonde.