Let's Lick the Faces on Stamps, It Will Be So Cat and Irresponsible toward Evening's Ruby Telephone

I've not seriously weighed abandoning BLCKDGRD but I daydream about it: A sudden surprise announcement - Be back. Or not. - a single post, all previous content removed, comments for the post disabled, my email address disappeared, not because I want to imagine all my sevens of you wondering, worrying, what the? is he OK? (though since I can't help but imagine it I imagine it in buckets), but mostly to see how long I could go before compelled to post again. I bet a pint I couldn't last a week.

BLCKDGRD exists for the gl(wh)orification of me as affirmed by your pings, which apparently I need. That shit about Me and Mine and My Amusement is only true so far, or rather, is true in that accumulation of more Me and Mine and My Amusement is BLCKDGRD's goal, an establishment of a growing Kingdom of Kind with me as Kind King, a realm of Kind where everyone gets my silly-ass allusions

and praises me for my cleverness.

This is the first time I've autoblogographed when honest pings are going up. Random hits come fast or faster on all my google regulars (my recent posts about the uckingfay Adridmay amegays has alerted me to how many humans google "uckingfay amegays"), but returning Me and Mine count has modestly, steadily, risen. People I respect and read are reading me, blegfriends have emailed and posted Kind comments. And while I sorta hope someone dear to me is fucking with my head, it seems someone in Bucharest translates BLCKDGRD into Romanian, someone in Libya translates BLCKDRGD into Arabic.

I'm flattered. Thanks, all. Faceţi clic pe Fleabus, yo.

*

• Or what? Quite a coincidence, yes, Star Wars pulled out of Poland ten days before this story breaks.
• Afghanistan as precipice?
• Hooray for Cold War?
• Technically and legally wrong.
• The World's Most Fatuous Fuck and Most Smackworthy Fuck, Pastor Gerson, tells me I'm a Nazi and to STFU.
• OOFDAH! Gerson throws shitfit former blogger now Post colleague calls bullshit on Gerson's bullshit. This is war, Villager-style.
• Villager Gala.
• I was going to belittle little Davy Brooks, but SHAZAM! I don't have to.
• More war all the time.
• One thing world leaders understand.
• Pittsburgh Pennsylvania, Sept 2009.
• Impeach.
• Your blegeverlards.
• How soon until Obama abandons this guy?
• Maybe it's because they take roobs like me for granted.
• Media Dopplers and Meatspace.
• Living with the Dead.
• Ladies and Gentlemen, Gophershole's own Fred Fenton.
• Fat Fredneck Pig proud of his fat pig fuckery!

• Tell me, any doubt that fatfuck's a Pig-American?
• Portrait of the Asshole as a Young Man.
• I wonder what Elric and Bromark's mother would think of Shih Tzus being among the dumbest breed of dog. They'll have to ask her, cause I won't.
• The Millions Best of the Millennium complete. The Corrections? Ick.
• On the Millions Best of the Millennium.
• Un alt unul din zeci de cinci cântecele mele preferate.
• Un alt unul din zeci de cinci cântecele mele preferate.
  
• Un alt unul din zeci de cinci cântecele mele preferate.

*

ROSES COME AT ME BARKING LIKE LITTLE DOGS

Cal Bedient

I love all things straining at their leash of blood:
poets, for instance, the barflies and crop-

haired barbies of the Rose.
But not the eye, unable to tell

is that a painted canyon under a rough girl
or a rough canyon under a painted girl.

(Not girls though it was girls,

don't resemble address,
splashes anything.)

Nor the ear, that yellow tube
waiting out front everday
for The Missoulian

(can you hear the blind deer
biting thunder, like
an artichoke arrogantly aroused?)

Mouth, o mouth, we have to talk:
my word!    I couldn't    my breath    you taught me private...

Like the shadow of a king in the room,
you amused yourself with me shamelessly.

        And you, heart, rode to let:
let's lick the faces on stamps,
it will be so cat and irresponsible
toward evening's ruby telephone.
(God I'm not so good as.
Can't possibly be well.
    How do I look?)

And I, I, I, the death vowel,
come to me single thing,

not so much fugitive, okay?
Snowing green alder leaves

on the river, and shipping,
shipping inhabitants.

(Take a peek, they told me,
handing me the key to the drawer.

We'll watch. Go on, they said, have a  )

And you with you blow-up sex doll
flying from your flag pole,

do you miss your home tonight, soldier boy?
Don't listen to Rose. Practice your
                                maneuvers.

Every nation's a murderer.
But enough about me.

*

Un alt unul din zeci de cinci cântecele mele preferate: