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Date: 2008.05.18
Date: 2008.05.18
Date: 2008.05.18
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Rohit's Realm
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| Greg Pellam - Out of Anonymity |
| "JAJA, UPYACHKA! UG NE PROIDET, BLYA!" -- | (put your comment here) |
| Hymn #1 | No Comments | Greg's Writings |
|
Oh my Lord!
There is a God! And he resides Within my rod! I have acquired The greatest Part of the American Dream! |
| A Letter To The Reader... |
| Dearest Reader, |
| I shall endeavor in this letter to give you some preliminary insight into the horrifying events of my childhood, and the earliest origins of this Hymn and the other Hymns forthcoming on Cody's site (he is a very nice man for allowing me to tell my story there). My 'exile and return', so to speak, in which I lost my way and allowed all of the evil in the world to turn me away from my duties to humanity, before turning it all around and putting it all out on the line for my lost brothers, begins here, on this night about which I am about to tell you. |
| I awoke from The Dream. I sprang from my bed with Glory pressing me forth. I was unaware of the world around me, unaware, even, that my joy, so great, so matchless, was the result of nothing more than a dream. Indeed I was oblivious to the harsh cruelty of the inevitable epiphany about to hit me, so laden with Cartesian proto-Existentialism. Still smiling, drooling, and spasticly laughing, spewing my juvenile excretion all over the hallway, I made my way quickly down the stairs to the telephone. I picked it up and dialed my uncle. |
| "Hello?" |
| "Joe?" His name was Joe. |
| "Yes?" |
| "This is Dick." My name is Dick. |
| "Who?" |
| "Dick, your brother's son." |
| "Oh, yes." |
| "Guess what I just did." |
| "I can only guess, you had a wonderful dream?" |
| "Yes, but then I masturbated." |
| "What? You don't even like fishing." |
| "No, no, I mas-tur-bate-ed." |
| Silence, so I began again. |
| "You know . . . masturbated, jerked-off, partook in the glorious art of self-pleasure. I'm not ashamed." |
| "Dick, you're way too big to still be making up words. You've had another of your dreams. I want you to go upstairs and tell your mother that you've had another crazy dream, and that you need her to make you a glass of that wonderful warm milk so you can go back to sleep. Damn! Only she can make that stuff taste good!" I dropped the phone, stunned. |
| And so it was that I, at the innocent age of 10 years old, discovered that masturbation, that greatest of gifts given by man to himself, had never existed. Indeed, the idea was one of my own concoction. |
|
More later,
Richard "Dick" Berg |
| Unforgettable | No Comments | Greg's Writings |
| Little Kimberly didn’t understand what her mommy and the other ladies were talking about, all she knew was that the video game on the lap-top computer her mommy had given her to use while her mommy was meeting with friends wasn’t working. Her mommy looked over at her and smiled and blew her a kiss. This made Kimberly feel good inside. She smiled and went back to trying to figure out her video game. After a couple of minutes she realized she wasn’t getting anywhere. |
| “Mommy.” |
| Her mommy kept talking. Kimberly didn’t understand the important things her mommy was talking about. She didn’t understand that the words her mommy and the other ladies were saying, “chauvinism,” “oppression,” “gender discrimination,” “double standard,” “empowerment,” were all words that would depress, empower, and inspire her to action when she got big. All she knew, and all she cared to know, was that her video game wasn’t working. She pressed each key lightly with her middle finger, and then hard with her clenched fist. |
| “Mommy!” She grunted. |
| “Your mommy went to get coffee, hone.” Said one of the nice ladies. |
| Kimberly’s mommy came back and blew her another kiss. Kimberly smiled. It still felt good. Her mommy went back to talking with the other ladies, but now she was talking a little louder and it sounded like she was mad. This made Kimberly scared. |
| “Mommy?” Kimberly tugged on her mommy’s sleeve. |
| Kimberly’s mommy pulled Kimberly’s hand off of her sleeve and handed Kimberly a lollipop without looking at her. Kimberly threw the lollipop on the ground, folded her arms like an Indian, and frowned. |
| “Mommy!” She was hitting her mommy on her arm as hard as she could. |
| For the first time, Kimberly’s mommy turned to her. She said: |
| “Now Kimberly, Mommy is talking to her friends. Okay?” |
| Kimberly nodded. |
| “Little girls should be quiet when grown-ups are talking, okay?” |
| Kimberly nodded. |
| “Now, what should little girls do?” |
| Honey, You're Sittin' On a Pedestal With a Broken Leg | No Comments | Greg's Writings |
| by: Greg Pellam |
|
Someone told me you were perfect
So I decided to check you out I went to you and then I found Exactly what he was talking about |
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I loved you and loved the change
And I found I never would have to wait I could sing a song or hum a tune If I didn't mind your alienation |
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The most wonderful thing about you,
Dearest, are your monuments and your halls I even sing about you daily And, baby, that takes balls |
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The best thing about you
I'm sure you already know Is you're an exclusive lady, baby I got you all to my own |
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But don't ever turn away from me
Honey, I know the fury of your wrath I find you dirtier every day not even clean When I just gave you a bath |
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I know someday you're gonna kill me
Unless I find a way out But I guess, honey, if I didn't have you I'd have nothin' to sing about |
|
I know, if you don't know me you really
Don't know what I'm talking 'bout at all All I can say to help you, is read Marx's Wage Labour and Kapital |
| Mrs. Butterworth Used to Touch Me |
No Comments | Greg's Writings |
| by: Greg Pellam |
|
Is it just me or are voters like Prostitutes?
At least whores get paid when they're screwed Of course, the voters get a wealth of reassurance And they rarely have to vote in the nude |
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I wonder where God votes on election day
After all, he is an American, am I right? Don't talk politics or religion with Him, though, You'll end up there all night |
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All I'm trying to say is:
Don't whore yourself to prostitues And always vote on the side of God You can find Him voting at Farmer's Market In the 32nd Precint |
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Jesus begged for AOL forty days and forty nights
But God withstood His sons' divine urging But with those puppy-dog eyes he couldn't keep it up And He knew He couldn't keep from splurging |
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So God graced His son with AOL
But Jesus never did get logged on Though he waited meek and mildly for forty more nights Then just gave up cause it took too long |
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"I can turn wine to water, I can turn water to wine
I can dance the hokey pokey while doves coo time But I can't even fucking get online! Dad, you're a rat-bastard and I always liked mom better!" |
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So the Heavenly Shit hit the fan when God's boy kept getting booted
So he went out and got DSL And anger management classes were to be damned When he sent poor Steve Case down to Hell |
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Then God turned His Omniscient Attention
To the woman who once caught his fancy "Dammit woman! Who do you think you are to gain the favor Of our son... and what is this about dancing? I told you not to put Him in lessons!" |
|
In conlusion, y'know, I'd like to say:
God, like every one of us, is only human Puts his pants on one leg at a time And sometimes His wife gets Him fumin' And that's why voters are like whores |
| Rock the vote in 2004! |
| Stand Beside | No Comments | Greg's Writings |
| by: Greg Pellam |
|
"Shit howdy!"
He decided to cry at me from across the sea While the fog enshrouded in secrecy All the things I wished to hide And everything inside me died There was something special about that day Something special about the way The police handled me and threw me in the car But I knew they wouldn't get very far With me in the backseat in a body jar I knew I couldn't lose, I knew they couldn't resist But they didn't know it and continued to persist So I cried and I shook my head And this is what I said: "Culture and ridicule may take me for a ride But I've chosen my path to the other side So listen to me in my humility We're going to Harvard University!" |
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So then, it was hardly a toke
And then I knew when I awoke That Massachusetts was miles away And the hotel lady said I hadn't paid "Bitter day!" I cried, "There must be a better way!" So they snatched me up again and sewed my new suit And closing my eyes, I became mute I saw an astro-turf field from a munchkin's nightmare And a medium sized snow man caught me in his blinding stare And he began to gnaw at my swolen cheeks And I was misinterpreted for my many leaks "My eyes are open!" I cried and they laid aside And they looked at me as if I'd died So I began to shake my head And this is what I said: "Culture and ridicule may take me for a ride But I've chosen my path to the other side So listen and follow in my humility We're going to Havard University!" |
|
So, with my army of midgets and sea creatures
And charcters from B-horror pictures We hopped in the car and I gave the order We will stop nowhere short of the Massachusetts border My loyal troops cried a sigh And pledged a pledge not to die "But if you must" said my leading lady "Die in His name, with a death so shady That your loved ones won't even bereave And find it difficult to believe!" Then cried another from the front of the bus "You must choose from among all of us Who will lead upon your death Who you think could guide us best!" And I laughed and looked gently at my made death bed And this is what I said: "Culture and ridicule may take me for a ride But I've chosen our path to the other side So follow me into eternity As we approach Harvard University!" |
|
Guns and clubs followed us down
And my army stopped to look around We were somehwere in the middle of Mississippi And I saw myself, a washed up hippy But it was too late to turn around To turn away from what I had found I really couldn't remember what I had been going for A rhyme or a reason a key to the door That they had locked for me so many years ago And told me I would never know So I gathered a a band of washed up dead heads And this is what I said: "Culture and ridicule may take me for a ride But I've chosen our path to the other side So in my saddened sorrowful vanity We're going to Harvard University!" |
|
So, with this never beaten army of none
And a hardly useful brain of one We at last approached the gates Of the mannered and cultured estates Of former presidential candidates We had finally arrived at our destination And no army greeted us in their stagnation A dissapointing competition Hardly worth the repitition So we marched in and taught classes the way it had to be done Like those who had done it before, to everyone There was little to be said, so in my stead This is what the students said: "Culture and ridicule we'll decide We'll take the others for a ride God bless us in our humility The faculty students and staff of Harvard University!" |
| The Dealer Called it Anthrax | No Comments | Greg's Writings |
| by: Greg Pellam |
|
Momma, I can't understand
What I ever did to the flea I really gotta wonder why He's always gotta suck on me |
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Well, son he thinks you taste
Good, better than most do You might as well learn why now It's because your blood is blue |
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Momma, I have a friend I know
I met him yesterday at school We played basketball together The fleas're always eatin' at him, too |
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Well, son, I'll explain it again
Your friend must be like me and you His parents must've worked harder than most So his blood is wealthy too |
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No mama, this boy's really poor
His parents couldn't buy him shoes I had to loan him half my lunch money And he taught me how to sing the blues |
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Oh, no, son I will tell you why
And you can never see him again The fleas eat him 'cause he's dirty And the money's only for you, understand? |
| Sailed | No Comments | Greg's Writings |
| by: Greg Pellam |
| Without the warmth of golden sunlight, I'm comforted by distant lore, my heart is no longer beating, and my soul will be seen no more Contaminated world! I leave you to your distant few, and your less than interested masses to throw the balance now askew. |
| Drink from the cup of death and see the eyes of creation, Let the grand station master take you to your final station. But soft is my heart, and softer still is my will, picking up the cup I start, but then I waver and let it spill |
| And the flowers over the hill will weep for the lost sleep. The sleep that cannot be had over cannon fire so deep. So I stand to guard the world from the flying bombs, but stagger in my |
| fortitude and fail to rectify its wrongs |
| "Lo!" I cry out to death, "Take me now for I have failed! I am but a sinister reminder... the remnance of a ship never sailed!" |
| And I am dead |
| Ode to America | No Comments | Greg's Writings |
| by: Greg Pellam |
|
I would not insult you,
Because you are too stupid, And would not understand. |
| Choice Words | 1 Comment | Greg's Writings |
| by: Greg Pellam |
|
If I could meet the president
That would be a wonderous day I already have it all figured out Exactly what I would want to say |
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I would walk up and shake his hand
And squeeze it rather hard I would spit on his ugly face And kick him in the nards |
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I would say: "Fuck you, dammit
You ugly fucking whino hick I don't want to look at you I'd rather sleep in rhino shit! |
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You drop bombs because you
Couldn't be what you wanted to: Sucking cocks for fast cash So you could buy your booze." |
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And then I'd run quickly home
And tell all of my friends: "Today I met the president, Isn't that the living end?" |
| To GW On His Birthday | No Comments | Greg's Writings |
| by: Greg Pellam |
|
Fool-hearty villains!
My wife is in the kitchen And she is with child! |
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I am not stupid!
I'm the president, dammit You elected me! |
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Pappy loves momma
Brother Jeb loves his country I love Tony Blair |
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There's a good reason
Why black people get the chair That reason... well... me |
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On comes November
Remember Afghanistan In 2004 |
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First Tuesday after...
Monday?! Isn't that the first...? When the Hell is it?? |
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Where is oil, you say?
Pappy says it's in Kuwait Afgh...whah? We'll just see... |
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Have you ever seen
A president balancing A spoon on his nose? |
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Wait till I find out
Who's writing these damn haikus Go fitch me a switch |
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