Tinkerertink69

Tinkerertink69
Location
Your closet, Indiana, France
Birthday
July 16
Title
President and CEO of Your Mom
Company
Your closet
Bio
Smell my Paws! Does that smell like poo to you? Writer? No way! I'm a guy with a cat who knows my passwords and likes to blog!! What? Oops, I mean, I'm a cat who likes to blog. Smell my paws!!! French prostitutes? Only on Tuesdays!! Lets cuddle!!

Tinkerertink69's Links

Salon.com
JANUARY 27, 2013 11:27PM

GETTING BUTT MOLESTED BY AN ALIEN GOAT

Rate: 11 Flag

 

The following is a true story, only the facts have been changed.

Why?

Because I can!

The facts are just lies anyways, who needs them?

I can make up facts with the best of them, this is my lies, you can have your life.

Stoned out on something, the planets are aligned, it is time to speak of stuff, things, that have happened to me in this journey called life.

I would say I could feel the heat but the damn heater was broken in the back room, blowing out cold air in the middle of a Artic storm front.

"Close the door!"

The door hinge was broken, it wouldn't close, just stand open, letting in more frost and biting winds.

"Brr, somebody pay the heating bill!" I yell.

A few people including some of the leads giggle.

I wander out into the front of the store.  Consumers buy their stuff, it's all about the stuff, shit, product.

Consume! 

 

 

"Buy the shit!!! MAKE US NUMBER ONE!!" I yell, a few look up, robots to the machine, consume, buy, produce, consume, fart, die, this is the process, it is never ending.

We are all machines; we are designed and built, sent off the production line, go into the factory and at the end, we die, we are replaced.  

We aren't even worth the sperm it took to make us.

Sad.

Don't cry.

Cry.

Reboot.

Johnny the team lead for toys is pissed at me.  "Tink yelled at me, he said I was a mother fucker!"

Liar!! Your mom has better taste than you.

 Somewhere a priest gets stabbed in the heart and dies alone.

His final words, "I thought I taught him better than that!"

I killed my Father!

I killed him with a steely knife, words of hate, I said, "Fuck you God!" right to his face, and as punishment, Father died.

Sad but almost true.

Father got ran over by a bus.

Stupid drunken fool.

He was drinking the blood of Christ and decided to dance into the street, the holy spirit filling him up, and bam, hello bus, heading for Detroit.

The Pope called me up, cursed me, for being the Anti-Church.

"You must forgive, let it go my son...."

I hang up the phone.

I let it go.

 

I'm back to drinking water straight from the tap, it's laced with LSD and female hormones that make me want to go out dressed up in my finest dress and find the white rabbit in Wonderland!

"Where are you going white rabbit?"  

"Down the hole to find my life!"

I wanted to follow but I stood there, looking at the sun, which was strange since it was close to midnight.

I thought about sitting down and writing a letter but the words would come out strangely, mixed up, dreamily, then stopping.

"Have some mushrooms!" said Alice from the hold.

I didn't have any, the logic it would seem, though, was there fine.

"You can find some at the Red Queen's house! Follow me! Follow me!"

I shook my head, it wasn't time yet to follow Alice down the rabbit hole, it was time to curl up on the floor, and sleep perchance to dream, to wander the dreamlands, the high and the low lands, to find the white horse in a desert with no name.

The horse had a name but nobody could remember it.

The desert was called hot rocks.

I'm sitting here, my life is disappearing from the place, stored into a new place for now, to be sold off, giving away in the spring time.

I've promised someone very special to me that I shall live for at least another thirty years.  

I'm not sure I can keep that promise.

"You promised!" she says, over the phone, when I speak of going and playing in traffic.

I wouldn't go play in traffic, not yet, not until I'm dressed and Nurse says it's okay.

Wheeeeeeee......she says it's okay, as long as my imaginary friend Bob, holds my hand!

Good night and have a better tomorrow..... 

Your tags:

TIP:

Enter the amount, and click "Tip" to submit!
Recipient's email address:
Personal message (optional):

Your email address:

Comments

Type your comment below:
Where is John Wayne now that we need him?
You still around?

I thought, when I didn't see you out back playing with the sled dogs, that you'd gone with Bob to play in traffic.

Be sure you get the right bus now..... some of them are equipped with water bumpers..... they just mess ya up real bad without croakin' ya. Bummer.

And take those "tunes"(?) with ya. Maybe, with luck, they'll get destroyed by the bus.

Long live alien goats, donkeys, monkey butts, and Tinks that drinks water!

R (first)

;-)
.
You always draw a crowd. xo
Your free association skills are fantastic. Too bad it's not an Olympic sport.
I think I may be happy I can't see the attached videos at work :)
YOU have a better tomorrow, Tink. R
Just stay OUT of the 20 items or less line, will ya?
didja know "theig86" stands for "The Industrial Girl 86"...? Industrial, referring to the genre of those vids you posted.

Woo!!!!
-rated-
Lefty, he's alive and well and in Fargo, North dakota!! :D

sky, no way man, the bands rock!! :D

Joan, I do!! :D

phyllis, if it was, I'd win!! OR at least place!! :D

Lunchlady, it just some angry folks screaming!! :D

Gerald, I'm having two!! :D

Natalie, done! That line sucks!! :D

theig, I figured as much!! THEY ROCK!! :)