Hello to the graduating class of 2009.

Hello to the graduating class of 2009.
By Rev. Sleestaxx

This was written for a particular High school class that requested I speak at the ceremony. But it appears that the board and the PTO and some other whinny pussy types decided that a member of the rotary club was better suited for speaking to the future of our world and so they canceled my gig. I got to keep the travel and half the fee but I did not get to speak to the class. Thus the speech is mine and so I shall with you all.

I am going to tell a story of a young man who, like you, was graduating high school.
He was a bright lad, a smart kid with a nice set of parents. He was always thinking about things, girls and cars, engines and girls, and well more about girls than anything else.
He wanted to be famous, and he wanted to have plenty of girlfriends. He wanted the life of a rock star; he wanted to buy his daddy a Cadillac and his mom a big fancy house. He wanted everyone to know his name and he wanted to make sure the world was a place to raise children, because along with the girls, he knew one day he wanted a wife and kids, and he wanted to impart his great knowledge on his child, so that his child would one day grow up and graduate.
He wanted his child to buy him a big caddie, and his wife a big house with a big kitchen. So he thought a lot about what he could do to change the world and make him self famous too.
He finished high school and thought about it and thought about it. He decided that he had no ideas yet and so he decided that college would fill his brain with more knowledge and then he could think of something.
He went to college and the thought. He thought all the way through four years of school and graduated college.
During and after a ceremony much like this one he sat and thought about what he could do.
He thought and he thought. He went home to his parent’s house and thought. One night his father came home and announced that he was being laid off from the car plant because the country was in dire straights and now one was buying new cars.
He mother wept and his father consoled her with sweet whispers and gentle hugs. His mother took to doing the laundry for others in the neighborhood so they could buy bread and dried meat for meals.
Now he knew there was something he could and so he put to thinking more on this dilemma.
His mother died one day from skin cancer from being out in the sun hanging laundry all these years. At the funeral his father wept openly and howled at god. He shook his fist at the sky and rued the day the lord put breath into his own lungs. He had never seen his father so angry before.
The priest at the service died of a stroke while presiding over the service. The priest babbled something about Jesus and banana cups and fell face first into the dais and shat himself. After the wake his father sat him down and asked him what he was going to do.
Do what now Father what do you mean?
Son your mother is dead I am dieing of mesothelioma from the auto plant. You have gone to college and you have a big brain full of learnin’ what are you going to do with your life?
I have been thinking about this a long time dad and I think I want to be famous.
Well that is an ambition son how do you plan on achieving that?
I am thinking about that now.
Ok son but you might as well cover your self in maple syrup and hump chickens.
What is that suppose to mean dad?
Well because famous don’t pay shit and you have wasted your life thinking. At least you would have been famous for being covered in maple syrup and having perverted sex with fowls, you would have been sent to prison and been out of my house a long time ago.
[Dramatic pause]
The moral is, you have plans, you know what you want to do, and you have finished high school.
Go to college, get out of college, and do something, anything, make sure it doesn’t hurt when you do it, but do something. Get out of your parents house, get into the world and make a change, get into the world and shape it to YOUR will, rest control from the pigs, pirates, dogs, and thieves. Take over the world, steer the world into another direction, but do not stare into the oblivion see your demise and do nothing. That was for the generation in charge and what the generations have done for the past millennia. They all looked in to the event horizon, shit themselves and decided to be criminals and perverts, don’t do that!
Get on the stick, spread the sun tan lotion and get freaking dirty.
Put tape on the computer cards, bend the quarters and fold the dollar bills. Wake everyone up and show them the sunrise.
Shake your fist at the government not god.
Rue the day the government forgot about the people.
Remind companies they are made of people not machines or commodities that can be brokered and marginalized like everything else.
But the most important thing of all is to get out of my house because I have no place for you at my table any more.

Like A Monkey With A Handgun
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 3 December, 2007..

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With A Mouthful Of Razorblades
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 6 February, 2008..

In My Neighborhood #26

By John Sleestaxx

It was time for the yearly HOA meeting. The developer was to release another seat. The rest of the seats were two year terms as was this one so I was not in need of re election but I wanted a partner for the new seat. I wanted someone in the chair that would play ball and look out for the best interest of the neighborhood.
We were going over the old business and just finished reading the minutes from the last meeting. When Bono walked in, he was followed by the Edge and an entourage of ass-wiping, yes people and ego strokers that would leave any real politician in a state of koro so severe that he would run out of the room crying.
Bono tried to address the assembly but was politely reminded that this was the old business and any new business from the floor had it’s time and this was not it.
“I am sorry for interrupting” Bono apologized, “I just got here from an AID concert somewhere on the planet that was to benefit some oppressed global citizen somewhere not even near the concert and probably was not even interested in the music my band mates and I produce.”
“That is fine” Lee said “but..”
“I heard there was a seat on the committee of this community and I decided that I would like to be on the board.” Bono just spoke over Lee.
“The seat is for residents of the neighborhood” I interjected.
“Yes I bought two houses one for me and the other for my hat.” He said.
“Fine but we are still not to that part of the meeting.” Lee said
“I want to make positive changes in the community like I have globally.” Bono said. “I demand that this position be appointed to me. For I am Bono of U2.”
Everyone sort of shifted in their chairs when they realized that there was an asshole in the room.
Lee looked down at his notes and then to me. I shrugged.
Edge just leaned on the wall in the back watching the spectacle unfold.
Bono begins to talk about how there is too many houses and not enough green space and that what we need to do is tear down one house and put a park space on every street.
Henry gets all giddy like a school girl. Henry starts to bounce in his chair, eyes wide in admiration and star struck non-gay love for Bono.
Henry starts to ooh and aww over the drivel Bono is spewing onto the floor. So much so that he can’t help himself and he does not care that Bono is trying to take over.
“That would mean more animal habitats and more wild life, we need less displacement of the natural residents before we moved in.” Bono spoke to no-one.
Henry finds a pause in the diatribe and shoots his hand up and speaks in a nervous cadence “What about lawn art?”
Bono shakes his head and Henry sags. “No lawn art, but bird baths should be a mandatory artifact in all the remaining yards.” Henry beams with joy.
Just then Brit and Pink break into a fight.
Everyone starts to chant “Fight, fight, fight.”
They roll around on the ground knocking over chairs. They grapple and pull hair “bitch” “fucker”. They slap and gouge and begin to tear each others clothes, it was quite the cat fight spectacle.
Finally Bono breaks them up. He separates them and they are sitting on the floor legs spread and hair all a mess. He squats down between them and talks to them.
“You know there is too much rage in the world. Too much hate. And too much anger. The other night I had a dream. And I was on this space ship and I was taken into space and I was looking back on the world from afar. And I could see all the hate and anger radiating from the big blue marble.”
“And I could see how ugly the humans look when they are arguing and fighting. And this being an alien spaceship the aliens told me that we humans are the most primitive creatures in the universe because of our hate and anger. I wept and cried like a baby asking him to tell what to do and he said that I should play more of my music and make more albums because our U2 music is the most humanizing sounds anywhere.”
Just then Pink and Britney started crying and they hugged each other and apologized to one another and then hugged again then the kissed. And the community gave a collective ahhh and clapped.
Then Jello nominated Bono for the new position and Sammie Hagar babbled something drunken and incoherent and fell face first into the ground. Rob Halford looks away and shakes his head.
We all kind of looked round because of the distraction. Since we were lost I tried to put us back on the rails with.
“Look we can’t all just tear down houses and make parks. We can’t just decide to let this freak on the board.”
Bono starts to jump up and down and yell. “Who the hell are you? I am the great Bono and I deserve that position because I am Bono.”
Well I am the Great Reverend Sleestaxx. This neighborhood is mine and I am the sword and the plow of the lord.
“You should have no say.” He said.
“Yeah, I said this is MY neighborhood.” And at that Bono just disappeared. The crowd gasped and awed.
The Edge looked about.
“FUCK yeah! Finally the piece shit sheep shagger is gone man” Edge’s arms flailing, spit flying from his lips showing his passion and pent up rage. “If I had to hear about the world’s poor one more fucking time I thought I was going to fuckin’ puke. I just want play and drink and bed women.” Said the Edge.
“I “ The Edge continued, “am so glad the damaged fucker is gone.”
And Bono reappears in the back of the room.
“I “ The Edge starts to prowl around the rooms perimeter, “hated that bitch since I kicked his pussy ass in some pub in Dublin. Man he whines…” Bono taps the Edge on the shoulder.
“Hey Bono, and good to have you back it seems this reverend guy is a witch he made you disappear.”
And he made me talk ill of you while you were gone.
No that is fine I under understand now. I would like to request a position.
Henry chimes in “What about the bird baths?”
Bono looked to me. I shook my head. Bono said “No Henry that would not be prudent or in the neighborhood’s best interest.”

Like A Monkey With A Handgun
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 3 December, 2007..

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With A Mouthful Of Razorblades
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 6 February, 2008..

In my neighborhood #25

In my neighborhood #25
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx

So it is early Monday morn. I figure it is early enough to get the paper while still in my robe. Robe and slippers, I go outside and there next to the paper is a heap of human parts. Not all bloody, but just a pile of a person. You know this sight when you see your parents passed out drunk on the living room floor enough times.
“Shit!” I think, “Damn! Somebody tied one on and got lost on their way home. I think I will leave them to bake in the sun. When they wake up and their head is pounding and their face is on fire from the noon day sunburn they will learn to not get so fucked up. I get the paper and as an after thought I decide to turn them over so they can get as much sun as possible because Vitamin Q is good for a hang over. As the live corpse rolls over onto its back I see that it is female. I brush back the hair and I see it is Paula Abdul.
I drop the paper and coffee cup and lift her so that I can bring her into the house. Even though she never made queen status she still deserves some mortal respect.
I bring her in and lay her on the couch, cover her with a blanket and fix myself a new cup of coffee and turn on the television and search for some morning cartoons.
I make sure to keep the volume down so the noise does not disturb Paula.
I find and old episode of “Spiderman”.
Then an old episode of “Autobots”, the undisputed godfather of the transformers, came on.
Half way through an episode of the PC whimp-i-fied GI Joe, Paula starts screaming.
I drop my coffee and yelp, “Shit!”
She sits bolt upright and looks around. “Hey where am I?”
“You are at my house” I said in a very calm voice, and I get up to get a towel.
“John? Right?” She says as if lost education is ebbing on her memory tide.
“Yes.” I replied.
“The last thing I remember was getting a call in the middle of the night and it was Janet and she was telling me I was fat and stupid. She said that I danced like a cow all stomping and hoofing around.” She said pulling the blanket I had laid on her up to her chin.
“Janet?” I asked more for affirmation then information.
“Yeah Janet Jackson.” She said as she let go of a violent shiver. “She has had it in for me since I tried to start a singing career while I was her choreographer.”
“Really?” I sounded like I did not believe her even though I tried to be more believable.
And Paula began her story. “Yeah I was helping her when she was starting and I gave her some of her best moves. When she found that I was working in a studio developing a record. She got real mad and tried to file an injunction on the record, but there were no real legal grounds even though she tried to portray me as an industrial spy. Then she got Michael involved.”
“Michael Jackson?” I said wondering how long the high lasts when you get toasted on scripts.
“Yeah and he called some heavy weights and they called in the corporate ninjas and they crushed my record sales by diverting orders and killing radio programmers who would not play ball.”
“When all was said and done it appeared as though no-one was interested in my music.”
“The record companies would not touch me. And I was black balled by the Jackson Clan.”
“I found a bottle of Oxycotton in my nightstand one night while I was depressed. I have never done drugs or drank before, but it seemed like a good way to make it all numb and go away. Next thing you know I am all fucked up on Idol. Yeah that back fired on them. That gig was a bone thrown to me by the Jackson Clan. They thought it, the show, would make one or two seasons and flop out. Little did they know it would balloon to such a huge success. I get clean and then some ninja slips me some pills and I fall off the wagon.”
“Wow, Paula that is an amazing story and almost believable, but as you know I am equipped with a very powerful bullshit detector.” I said standing up.
“No it is true.” She said pleading, “And Janet heard of my secret project to record another album and she has started the attacks all over again.” She said pulling her legs up into a ball.
“You know Paula if you want to get fucked up and wander the neighborhood then just get fucked up and start walking, but you do not have to make up stories of ninjas and career killers and Jackson conspiracies.” I said looking down at this frail, old, fucked up woman.
“No John it is true.” She says sitting up.
Just then the front door opens with a splintering crash. And Half Dollar piles in with two ninjas.
“Ninjas!” Paula screams
“Half Dollar!” I yell laughing hysterically.
I began my fight prayer, “Dear god make me strong to vanquish your enemies. Make them taste their blood like their sins and help them find their way to your grace and loving light.” And a column of fire rains from the sky through my ceiling and vaporizes the ninjas.
Half Dollar looks back surprised and shaken from the display of god’s wrath.
He charges raising an axe handle. I step up and into him just under his arm which removes the threat of the axe handle. I head butt him, he drops the axe handle and he grapples me.
We struggle in the foray and stumble around. Paula is standing and screaming.
Half Dollars breath is hideous. My god what had this fucker been eating? It was a cross between peanuts and morning breath
We bounce off the walls and into the nearby hall towards the half bath, decorated in romantic.
The room is small and the two of us take up most of the cubic footage.
I get the doorway to my back and clap my hands on his Volkswagen door ears.
He yelps and lets go, I step back and spin him. I plant a foot on his ass and shove.
He hits the wall bounces back and I kick again he lurches forward trips on a Persian throw rug and falls forward.
His hands are still on his ears and he falls into the toilet hitting his head. He goes limp.
‘Man what the fuck?’
‘Another dead star in my house.’
‘Shit! Fuck! Shit!’
“Oh no this is not happening.” I say out loud
“Paula is screaming.”
“No way am I going to deal with this shit again.” I say out loud to myself.
I start to drag Half Dollar’s body out the back door.
“What are you doing to do with him?” Paula asks.
“I am going to bury him in the back yard.” I grunt as I drag this 140 pound fake thug.
“But won’t he be missed?” Paula asks as the whole thing starts to sink in.
“No he is an irrelevant, dime-a-dozen rap thug that no-one loves or likes. Hell I just did the entire white teenage listening demographic a favor. Now they have one last choice to spend their money on.”
“I do not know if I can be a part of this.” Paula says shaking her head and shrinking back.
“What? Are you kidding? I never asked you to be a part of this.” Not believing the whussiness of this near icon.
“Shit tomorrow you will not remember today and no one will believe you anyways.” I said more mean than I meant to.
“That’s not fair.” Paula pouted.
“Its true enough though isn’t it?” I directed with the intensity of a persecutor about to stick the charge.
“Yes.” She looks down and fattens her lower lip like all girls do.
“Alright then the shovel is in the shed and the bag of lye is kept in a plastic bucket under the ladders.” I grunted as I slid the skinny little fake poser out the door.
“What do you have lye for?” she stops on the way to the shed.
“Ahh,” I paused. “I do not know, making soap and bio-diesel?”
“Really? That is cool and she shuffles to the shed.”
I spend a good portion of Monday afternoon digging. Paula disappeared around the first hour.
Half Dollar is buried in the back yard and now I am fixing the front door.
Johnny Cash would be proud of me but I will never tell him or anyone.
If this bullshit keeps up I am going to have to move. Regardless of the market.

Like A Monkey With A Handgun
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 3 December, 2007..

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With A Mouthful Of Razorblades
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 6 February, 2008..

In my neighborhood #24

In my neighborhood #24
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx

The neighborhood does not allow garage sales every weekend. There would be certain individuals that would have a sale every weekend capitalizing on their name more than just getting rid of their unwanted junk.
Metallica, Slayer to name a couple. They would buy other peoples junk to put in their sale so people would buy Metallica’s old toilet or Slayer’s broken weed eater.
We have garage sales as a community twice to three times a year. This means that our neighborhood can look like a trailer park all at once. And only one weekend.
Today I had some stuff to sell so I bought a permit and moved my garage to the driveway.
Henry was on tour and he left me his keys. I piled his mail up on the dining room table and made sure that his two cats “Spoon” and “Mr. Snuggles” are watered and fed. And I grabbed some of Henry’s junk too.
Now do not get me wrong I grabbed stuff he would not really need. Like his African fertility statues, WHAT IN THE WORLD is a guy like Henry need fertility statues for and at his age? And those tribal masks that were really made in China that looked like dark boogey men faces.
I was sitting in the shade waiting for the traffic to sift down to my corner of the subdivision when I heard same yelling down the street. There is always yelling now and again, but this sounded like trouble.
“No Old man you do not know what you are talking about.”
Hmmm I better investigate.
I start walking down to the left by Hammer’s house. Hammer had quite a collection of jammies for sale or maybe they were parachute pants. I do not know but it was a large rack of them.
Living next to Hammer is Chuck Berry.
Chuck had some old furniture and old guitars out for sale. And a collection of bells, ceramic bells from all over the world. Chuck collected bells who knew?
At the curb was one of the new guys P. Diddy, John Paul, and some guy named “Half Dollar” and some skanky broad I have never seen before and Rihanna. They were all yelling up the drive way to Chuck.
“You old man,” Half Dollar yelled, waving his hands around like in his videos. “Are so out of it you think you know, but you know nothing.”
“Hell diaper boy I was in the pussy before you were coming out of your momma’s.”
“Leave my momma out of this.”
“Shit boy you walk around here holding your dick with your pants falling down. You do not know anything.”
“Hey, hey,” I interrupt “What’s the problem.”
P. Diddy tells me that they were looking at Chuck’s sale stuff and the Rihanna wanted to know about the old guitar and Chuck said he would make a deal with her. I knew what he meant and I called him out.
“No P. Diddy you do not call Chuck out. He will eat you alive AND make you his bitch. You have nothing on him.”
“Yeah you think so?”
“Yeah I know so.”
“Look I am sure it was a mis-understanding.”
“No it weren’t reverend.” Chuck yelled and I rolled my eyes. “I know my women, not like these shit stained little momma’s boys.”
“You have no concept of pussy, no concept of how to treat it, or tease it. You just want to own it, but what you don’t know is for a real man, pussy owns you! You have to treat it like a queen or it will tear you up.”
“Yeah tell me another story old man.” Half Dollar rolls his eyes and fingers his Pontiac Symbol Necklace.
“You better not old man me. I know my pussy, I know my music and I know I will whoop your ass.” Chuck said coming down a few step rolling up his sleeves.
Half dollar pulled out a .38 pistol.
I moved so fast the “Dollar” guy never saw it coming. I grabbed the pistol and hit him on the side of his head with it.
“What are you doing?” I screeched at him. “Pulling a gun out on Chuck. He does not have a gun.”
“No-one is gonna disrespect me.”
“What disrespect, Half Dollar? You want to tell me?”
“He is right you thugs walk around here like the fucking bulls in prison and you do not know shit from shine-ola.”
“Chuck here made a complement to Rihanna and you girls want to shoot him.”
“What the fuck?”
P. Diddy made a step towards me and I kicked him in the crotch and he just stood there. I looked at Chuck and we both started laughing.
Diddy picked Half Dollar off the ground and they started back to their house.
“C’Mon Rihanna!”
“I will be there in a bit.” And she started up the drive to talk to Chuck about the guitar.
Diddy and Half turned and started to charge up Chuck’s lawn.
Chuck stepped up and clothes lined Diddy putting him on his back.
Half Dollar turned and started towards him again.
Chuck dropped back into a martial arts stance. When Half was within range Chuck began to do Kung Fu on Half Dollar’s ass. Chuck beat he shit out of him. Only stopping when Rihanna stepped up cryin “No Chuck, don’t hurt him anymore.”
P. Diddy was still on the ground holding his throat and crying silent tears.
Half dollar tried to move but he had no strength and gave up to bleed into Chucks lawn.
Rihanna rubbed Half’s shoulder. “You ok baby? You ok?”
I went over to P. Diddy and bent over him.
“Can you breathe?”
He nodded.
“Then I suggest you get up and leave. Because I think Chuck is about to pee on you both. I turned to look at Chuck. We shared a smile.
P. Diddy got up and staggered to Half Dollar and helped him get up.
“Stupid old man.”
Chuck yelled “This stupid old man just schooled your punk-ass, now git before I get angry.”
Chuck you know they are gonna get their posse and come back.
No they are not. I hit them both with the Tibetan monk transsexual implosion punch. They are both gonna turn into women and then they are gonna have a real tough time.
We laughed and laughed.
The traffic started to pick up so I went home to find someone had stolen all of my junk.
Wendy was in her driveway and she had a smile on her face.
I thought about asking her if she knew what happened to my stuff, but, shit, Wendy scares the shit out of me. It is best for me to just go inside, butter up and sit at the knot hole. Someone has to keep an eye on those lesbians.

Like A Monkey With A Handgun
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 3 December, 2007..

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With A Mouthful Of Razorblades
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 6 February, 2008..

In my neighborhood #23

In my neighborhood #23
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx

Our Neighborhood Take Back The Night celebration was last night. This is where we as a bunch of middle class individuals living in our suburban cocoon are suppose to go out in the dark and meet our neighbors and prove to the riff raff that we are not scared of them and our neighborhood is our own.
Aside from the pirates in the Shawn Fanning shanty town next door we really have no trouble. So an occasional drunken lout or a strung out lesbian pop star is the real trouble. Oh yeah there was the Sid and Nancy problem but that has started to run it’s course and even they have gotten on the bus so to speak.
So here we were, out in our yards after sunset. A perfect 72ºF. I was in a portable chair at the curb watching the neighbors mingle. Pam and Kid came over I shared some homebrew with them. We talked about the neighborhood gossip and the possibility of a Baywatch Movie deal in the works.
Johnny Cash came over; we spoke, but did not talk, if you know what I mean. No beer for him he gets moody real fast.
Wendy came over. She makes me feel anxious. We talked about vegan choices at Chilis and she began to start blathering on about ‘the travesty of the human condition.’ Then she started on about the destruction of eating red meat the treatment of cows in the slaughter house. I wanted to know if they should be giving all the cows their religious last rites and satin pillows.
But I do not argue with her she is very mean spirited sometimes and I do not want her mad at me.
Finally she left and I could breathe again.
Henry came over we talked about his last tour, he postulated about the current political climate and how the world as a community should do this night out thing to raise awareness of unethical practices of some other countries. I told him it is called United Nations.
He went “Ahh yeah that’s right. Hmm how do I get hooked up with that gig I could be of some real help with all my worldly knowledge from all my fact finding tours abroad.”
“Henry? Really? Are you serious? “
“Yeah man, I have been to Afghanistan and India and Singapore and Korea and Russia. I have even been to Iraq.” Henry’s chest puffs out with pride.
“And how do you suppose that we fix those countries?” I pointedly asked Henry. And standing up to his monster frame asked “If you are against war and economic sanctions what do you propose we do to get the mean bullies to play nice in the sand box?”
“We bring them up to our industrial level. We educate them on global warming and how a better more affluent citizen makes a better countryman.” He says like he has been waiting for this moment to tell his grand secret.
“But you forget that if we raise the lowest up to above poverty that the ones above poverty will also be risen and the ones in control will make sure they stay in control and thus we have economic slaves with better clothes and wood on the floor of the tar paper shacks. Nothing really changes and we have more people on the planet because they are all healthier.” I reminded him.
“Righteous!” Henry beams like he found another jewel of wisdom.
“NO NO NO. I ranted in my passionate sermon voice. “More people means more farts and more farts means more methane gases and more methane gases means a warmer green house and that means we all die sooner. Yes more comfortable but still sooner.”
“Nah man that won’t happen farts are not the cause of the green house.” Henry says like he is scared he may be wrong.
“Yes methane is one of the main abundant gases that are attributed to the global warming problem. And farts are methane gases.” Arms now flailing and spit flying from my lips.
“HMMM you may have something there.” Henry said looking down at his impossibly small feet. “I will have to start not farting.” Now looking up Henry has a gleam in his eye. “I am going to arrange a ‘No Fart’ tour to raise awareness to this global issue. If I can get just one other human to stop farting then I have reduced the problem by two fold from my perspective. And if I can get more people to do the same we can get this fart thing licked. I know I can get Al Gore to back this whole fart thing up.” Henry said excitedly.
Henry getting excited is kind funny he starts bouncing on the balls of his feet. And he looks like Tigger or a jack in the box just after it sprung.
“Yes this sounds like a plan Henry.” I encouraged. “You should get on this right away before it mushrooms out to an even more devastating problem.”
“Stop the farts and raise free the economic slaves!” I raised my voice in mock excitement and sarcasm.
“I can see the fan base jumping on this and making this a very relevant issue very fast.” Henry said as he started to pace. “I could recapture some of the lost share when I left Black Flag.”
“Yeap I can smell a Nobel peace prize Henry. You da man.” I said like a boxing trainer watching his bull go down.
“Thanks John you are a great neighbor.” He said as he started to pull out his bio-degradable cell phone. Then he turned back to me, “Hey do think I could get that ,….. “ I interrupted. “No you can not get a bird bath installed. Birds fart too you know.”
“They do?” he asked not knowing what to do.
“Sure they have an ass don’t they?” I asked like it was common knowledge to everyone else.
“Yes but they…. Hmmmm you may have something there.” He replied, but I heard the one gear turning and grind on something.
“Wow think about that?” I said with my best sarcastic smile.
“What’s that?” Henry asked.
“The world’s global warming problem solved on my lawn.” My voice still dripping with intense sarcasm.
“Yeah do not worry I will give you credit too.” Henry said as his gear ground and ground on this idea.
“Yeah I am sure you would but you know Henry I am a reserved individual, a humble person and I would appreciate you not mention my name.” I asked in my most pleading and reasonable voice.
“Alright I am going to try and get my agent to return my call so I can get this “No Fart” tour rolling.” Henry lifting the bio-degradable cell phone to his ear.
“Yeah later Henry see ya.” I said as he wondered back to his house.

Like A Monkey With A Handgun
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 3 December, 2007..

Also reading

With A Mouthful Of Razorblades
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 6 February, 2008..

In my neighborhood #22

In my neighborhood #22
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx

The HOA sponsored an Easter celebration for the neighborhood kids. And Easter egg hunt was had. Candy (no brown M&Ms) was handed out and Henry Rollins was in the Easter bunny suit for pictures and entertainment for the kids.
I was done handing out candy and potato plastic Easter baskets so I decided to sit on a bench by the playground equipment.
“hey John you really a reverend?” I turned to see Eminem sitting next to me.
“Yes Marshall I am”
“Can we talk?”
“Sure what about.”
“I have been having anger issues and I have been in the dumps lately. Do you think there is really a god?”
“Yes I know there is because he speaks to me everyday. What has that got to do with your anger and depression?”
“I just want to know if there is really a reason for it all. You know what I mean?”
Just then Henry starts flopping on the ground in front of the kids. He looks like a fish until he starts yelling about grenades and the kids start throwing the hard boiled eggs at him.
He starts talking about his arms and legs being blow’d off. Some of the kids stop giggling and start to look frightened.
Henry starts to lecture the wee tikes about the evil of wars.
“Hey Henry” Eminem yells. “Give it a rest, you’re starting to scare the kids.”
Henry looks at us. “But…” Just then some entourage member of Eminem’s stepped toward Henry.
“Yeah you’re right Em, We should be just celebrating the rise of commercial religion and the monsters that consumerism has breeds.”
Eminem throws an egg at Henry maybe a little too hard and the egg bounces off the left side of Rollins’ head. He yelps and the kids start to giggle and throw the eggs at Rollins a bit harder now, but he plays along acting now like a rabbit, then a duck, and then a rabbit again.
“Marshall what were you saying about being worth it?”
“No,” he says looking straight at me to make the point of the seriousness. “it is worth it but is there a reason for it all. I mean I work hard to write these deep meaning lyrics and the only thing that gets play is the same bubble gum crap. I try to educate the fan base but they all just act like sheep. Why? What is the reason for the fire in me to write real shit and he only thing that gets noticed is me riffing on the stupidity of it all and the insults I make towards other famous people.”
“What has this got to do with god?” I ask.
“Well if there is a god like you say and he has a purpose for me and I am fulfilling that purpose, then why do I still feel so empty and angry all the time?”
“Why are my real songs being ignored, why does it depress me about the shady, stealing shifty, fuckers that have latched on to me like a leeches.” He paused looking out over the small crowd of children.
The pause was so long that I thought he was done. And then he restarted
“If there was a god he would make my other stuff noticed and keep the suckers off my back. Right?”
“Well actually no.” I said already sorry for the answer before I could finish. “See the lord gave us all free will and so he can not make other people like your truer songs.”
“You are fulfilling your purpose. It seems that gods plan for you is to be a father better than your father, a performer that entertains and educates, and a voice for the many that are suffering poverty.”
“You are doing all these things. You should be happy and feel fulfilled.
“But I am not.” He sighed visibly frustrated.
“Then I would say you are guilty of something.” I said rather Harsly but he is a man he can handle the truth.
“WHAT?”
“Now it is my experience that if one is doing what one loves to do, then that person is happy, but if that person is not happy then they are guilty of something and in your case it would be your success.”
“What why would I be guilty of my success?” He said puzzled.
“You do not feel you are worth the admiration and accolades that are thrusted upon you. You feel that somewhere there was a point that you should have failed and stayed PWT. But here you are old fat and rich. You grew up fighting for everything and now everything is handed to you and you have all this fight left and no real channel for the energy.” I paused for this to sink in a bit.
“Dude, accept that you are successful, that you are old, you are fat, and you are rich. Accept that you have become all that you despised when you were young and relish in the fact that you can make positive changes in other people’s lives.”
“Is that why Henry is so happy?”
“Well henry is too dumb to be happy because he has never realized that he is old, fat, rich and irrelevant.” We laughed and watch him mock wrestle a stuffed panda bear.
“He still does not have that stupid bird bath and he is happy. I think that maybe he was behind the door when the brains were being handed out.”
Marshall smiled that evil smile he had when he was young.
“Thanks John you were a big help. So there really is a god?”
“Yes there is.” Staring into the sun behind his head. {Fucker}
“Are you sure?” Cocking his head to one side.
“Yes I am, he just told me to tell you to come by on Thursday.”
“Really? What happens on Thursday?
“Just some more education I think you deserve it you old fat man.
“Ha you are older than me John.” He smiled.
“And yet I am happier.” I smiled back to meet his
Marshall scooped up his kids and headed home.
Johnny Cash was playing gospel songs for the crowd. It was a nice day.
Henry came up covered in egg and candy with grass stains on his furry knees.
“Hey John, do you think the HOA will pay for he cleaning bill of my bunny suit?”
“No Henry they will not. They did not ask you to roll on the ground and act like a wounded war vet. They did not ask you to dress up as a bunny. You volunteered. Hey why do you have a bunny suit anyways?”
“My sexual preferences are none of your business.” He shot back in defiance and shame.
“Well you could have said ‘it was a charity thing you do’ but, now we all know you are a sick twisted, bird loving, old punker with little else to do but get kinky in a bunny suit.”

Fear is what keeps us civilized.

Fear is what keeps us civilized.
By Rev. John Sleestaxx

Fear of god’s judgment
Fear of peer judgment
Fear of hell
Fear of no hell
Fear of god
Fear of no god
The fear of knowing that once this is all done and over we are all just meat to be consumed by the bugs and the bacteria in the ground.
So we go through life thinking about if I do this what will be the outcome?
But the human animals, the beasts, the mouth breathers, the sinners, the bankers and the pirates of this great world that was once a glorious place to be a part of have realized that they do not care about tomorrow or the outcome. It is about today and what can they steal from us, what harm can they do to us and what can they do for themselves.
These are the criminals that we allow to walk among us and we hide our eyes from their view because we are afraid of them and hope they pass us by and steal from our neighbor instead. We have let them run amuck and get too much control. We need to wrest the helm from these doers of ill and sin and take back what is ours. We shall start with our dignity and finish with a pound of flesh nearest their heart.
We shall say “NO MORE!” “You shall take no more! You shall leave our sight! You are banished to the outside. Leave our city and leave our lives. Go now and scratch your existence from the dirt and clay whence you came from.”
“Go now without your goods, your belongings, your coat and robes of wealth and ill gotten goods. Be known that your are now marked as a thief and you shall be treated as such. Let no man give you work and let no women feed you. See what you have wrought on the rest of the world and let god judge you for you have been judge and found not worthy to be human nor animal and not worth the wood to burn you as you deserve.
You beasts you criminals you evil men of industry pirates and privateers all of you. You all make me sick you all make me hate the human race again and again and again.

Penis Monologues

February 14th is Valentines Day it is also vagina day.

 What is vagina day? It is the day they release the
vagina monologues. Stories by empowered women to charge and lift the
spirits of battered and abused women. A good cause to be sure.

 But I also feel that there are plenty of abused men
too. It is not spoken of and it is a secret but it is there. I propose
the penis monologues should be released on the same day
too.
 So today I let the word of the penis out. Today
I let the world know that i have a penis and the penis is a powerful
tool.
 Today show your penis pride and your loyalty
to your penis.
 Let the 14th be a genital pride day
instead of a segregated gender specific
holiday.

 Penis
Monologues
Ch#1 Discovery of my very bestest
friend
    By John
Sleestaxx

 I discovered masturbation at a
very early age. And I discovered orgasm not shortly
later.
 We only had bath tubs in my house at the
time. We used a hose from the faucet to facilitate the upper body
rinsing.
 I have a bamboo flute, I always had one I
do not know why I never learned to play more than one annoying not at a
time, I would attach the flute o the hose and I would have a
sprinkler.
 Like most abused 10 year olds I had a
fixation on my penis. I shot water into my penis and found the
sensation to be interesting. experimentation led me to shooting water
to the underside just below he head and then I found if I plugged 7 of
the 8 holes I had a high pressure spray that felt fantastic and then I
found if I held it there long enough my head would pop!

 Along with the melting of my brain and thighs I had
a huge water mess to clean up.
 Then in my haste one
evening I started to cycle up and down I could get to the eye rolling
bliss would take me away from the pain and anger and hate that was my
little 10 year old life.
 On another night I was
rushed out of the tub. And my mother walked in on me with my hard on.
She turned and left right away. Later that night during family get
drunk and kids watch television mom thought it would be funny to
mention it.
 My fucking touchy crazy alcoholic step
father laughed hysterically at my having a hard on. Then he said he was
probably masturbating.
 I was trying to pretend I was
not hearing this deceptive destruction of my character. But in the
corner of my eye I saw that flat headed green skinned fucker make what
I was to learn later was the universal jerk off motion.
HMMMM.
 This story is about me not him ad that fucker
really has no place (well maybe one more)
 That led
to late night sessions with out the tub. My bath time was cut in
half.
 One night in the dark while jerking I found my
hand to be slick and sticky.
 I stopped and panicked.
I must be bleeding. Holy shit I am bleeding, if I tell anybody they
will know what I have been doing. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

 I jumped up and turned on the light to assess the
damage I had done. Maybe I could mitigate the issue and it could fly
under the radar.
 A clear liquid. Hmmm what the hell
is this? Could this be sperm?
 I turned off the light
and lay in bed thinking that my orgasms were done because the sperm
comes at the end I was told. And if I had sperm and no more hot
feelings then I was grown up. Damn I wish I had known about this
sooner.
 Oddly the next day my step father made the
joke, “Hey John you know if you masturbate it goes the hair on your
hand not your dick.”
 Oh shit! I panicked and I
looked at my hand. He thought that was so funny he laughed until he
puked and I had to clean it up.
 I stopped that
night. The goop must make the hair grow. Well no more! I was not going
to have hair on my hand and everybody knows what I
do.
 Next night same thing, I was not going to submit
to the call, but the orgasm spoke to me in lilting tones and whispers
and not much later in the dark I touched myself again. Maybe if I just
keep most of the goo off my palm. But in the fever and heat of the
action in the sheets it was not to be. I kept going I was not to be
denied what was mine. The goo facilitated the sensation and the motion.

 Holy fucking crap! My god that was fantastic! That
was the fucking best shit Eva! Yeah the goo was not the sperm but the
sperm later was easier to clean up then the
bathroom.
 I stepped my efforts to twice a day once
in the morning and once at night. If I could have been paid for this I
could get out of that fucking house. Shit it was fucking great and I
had no idea why, it was not sex, maybe I was broken something was
wrong, but it felt so good it was ok.
 This became my
escape when things get too stressful I would just retreat. No one could
take this away. It was how I coped. when I could get away from my step
father and mother I would and I would get a session in. Garage, woods,
public restrooms who cared I was free of the damage and pain and stress
of those two.
 It was just me and my penis, my best
friend, my compadre and kimosabe. My penis never drank too much and hit
me. My penis never said just the right thing to make me hate myself. My
penis never ever made me do things I did not what to do. My penis was
made for these things and it was ok. not like me I was not made to do
the things I was made to do. My penis understood and never
complained.

Penis
Monologues
 CH#2 The discovery of fur and vacuum
cleaners.
    By John Sleestaxx

 Before I ran away from home I had found
the sensation of fur. Hmm yes fur on my skin was
awesome.
 I also had over heard some older boys in
school talk about girls sucking. Now that I think about this all I
realize how lucky I am that I know what I know because I was never told
a thing I learned it all from second hand knowledge and eavesdropping.

 I was 10 what chance had I to find a girl. I did
find a vacuum cleaner so I put the fur around the vacuum cleaner hose
and all I can say is wow. But when all was done, I ha d a bump on my
head from passing out, a sore where the fur had worn and the metal edge
of the vacuum had a brazed… no fucking cut the entire length of my
penis.
 Yes I passed out. I learned that you can pass
out from a standing orgasm. There I was facedown on the garage floor
for I do not know how long. I think I may have just swooned but head my
head on the work bench on the way down.
 I also
learned that a vacuum will tear your penis up and leave a hickey on
your stomach the size of a silver dollar.
 But I also
learned I was not the only one who thought of this.

 Gym class came around that first Monday and the red
headed bully in the locker room saw the red circle on my stomach and
said hey everyone Sleestaxx has a hickey from a vacuum on his stomach I
wonder what he was doing. And about five other guys began laughing and
one said hey Rudy how the hell you would know anything about
it.
 Rudy’s white skin turned bright red and he shut
up. They all did.
 I had 6 band-aids on my penis for
2 weeks. That was the longest 2 weeks ever. I prayed I never had to see
a doctor. I told all the girls the scar was from my
zipper.
 To this day I have never thought about doing
it again. But I shiver and cringe at the same time whenever I use the
vacuum at the car wash.

Penis
Monologues
 CH#3 Short Penis jokes—small penis
jokes—-some penis observations
  
 By John Sleestaxx

===============================================================
George:
Elaine do women know about shrinkage?
Elaine: It
shrinks?
Jerry: Like a scared turtle.
Elaine: I do
know how you men live with those
things.

===============================================================

 Have
you noticed that peanuts and penis sound very similar? So much so you
could mention to anyone (your boss) “Your breath smells like penis. I
am allergic sensitive to peanuts. Could you please step back a bit. I
do not want to have a peanuts
reaction.”

===============================================================

 Why
is being called a dick is an insult? I think this was a propaganda plan
by the hardcore feminists.
 It should be a
compliment.
 You’re a dick
 Thank
you I do feel strong and
powerful.

===============================================================

 Beware
there is a penis redistribution plan being planed in Washington. It
seems that some liberals think it’s not fair that only men have
penises. That’s government thinking for you. If that is the case then I
think that breast redistribution should be considered. I think I know
who to take care of breasts but I know that penis care is known to
all.
 We do not need vagina redistribution I think
there are plenty of men with those, they call them
liberals.

 Penis
Monologues
Ch#4 Discovery of a penis and
hookers
    By John
Sleestaxx

 It is not my penis and
it is not really my story but I love the imagery and tragedy of the
entire situation.
 It seems that there is this group
of merchant sailors and they had just made the long trek to some small
Asian port and they were on shore at a bar. While on shore they had
shopped and done what sailors do when on land after months at
sea?
 One had purchased a monkey and thought this
would be a cool neat pet but he knew he had to sort of hide the little
bugger from the captain.
 Anyways they were at a bar
drinking and there was a prostitute pestering hem for drinks and tricks
and they obliged but she became annoying in her
begging.
 The guy with the monkey said he would give
her 100 dollars if she would give his monkey a blow
job.
 She balked but every time she came around the
bar to them for a drink or a “dance” they offered the same
deal.
 Finally after hours of drinking and trick
turning with other clients in the bar she surmised that 100 would be a
good deal.
 The sailor got the monkey to jump to her
shoulder and she fumbled in the monkey’s crotch for a penis. At first
said she could not find such a small pecker but the all chided and
teased. Then she found the monkey penis. And she gave it a lick and
wanted her money but they said no not enough. So she gave a couple more
licks.
 This is the imagery part

 It said that the monkey perked its head and his
eyes bugged and the he grabbed a hold of her hair with all four feet
and began humping her face.
 now the hooker panicked
and began screaming and thrashing about trying to pull this monkey off
her face the monkey had other plans and held fast to her head and she
began to wheel around the bar knocking over tables and chairs trying to
pull the monkey off her face.
 I just love imagery of
the monkey holding on to her head humping and her with both hands to
her face trying to pull the monkey off and stumbling around the
bar.
 The story has a bad ending
though.
 The party on shore got the shit beat out of
them by the bar owner and the girls pimp, their entire paychecks
stolen
 The monkey was said to have been ruined and
was released into the wild. Because apparently every time the monkey
was put on a shoulder he would begin humping the head, face, or ear, it
did not matter just hump the shit out of
everyone.
 Eventfully the monkey was shot because he
would enter homes along the jungle edge and hump the face of sleeping
individuals.
 Again great imagery here; innocently
sleeping and some furry little bastard would start humping your face.
Holy crap that has got to be legendary. tears well up every time I
start to think of this story it just goes to show you that the human
race is doomed to hell and no amount of blood can help some of
us.
Malflic’s Post

My Christmas season was quiet

My Christmas season was quite
By Rev. john Sleestaxx
My note: There are times that I am told flat out do not post that until after the court date. Or this would be a very bad image for everyone involved.
Or the church’s contract restricts your post of that material.
After having the blood sucking vampires (not the emo Edward type) picked over this like mites pick the meat off of bones I was given the green light to post.
If you followed my twitter feed you got wind of some Christmas violence.

Self loathing mouth breathing sinners the entire lot should be placed in a large meat grinder and turned until there is no more whining and you can not tell the eyeballs from the adrenals.
I plunged head long into the fray in hopes to make it through the ordeal with only a few scars. I was not going to pick a fight and I had resolved that this year I would be more tolerant.
Incident #1
I had almost made it but then at the last hour I was hungry and in the “red zone”
I came across a kiosk type sales point I was thinking that hey my wife may enjoy a specialty gift of soap or moisturizer. You know something special to show how special she was and the sales lady bitch shoved a bar of lye soap under my nose.
I bit her hand. Plain and simple I just bit down and she screamed and I bit harder. It was funny at first I meant to bit like a lover would you know playfully on her thumb but like I said I was in the red zone and I got a holt of that hand and I bit down. There was no blood and I did not break the skin but she had to pull twice to get free.
Her sales mate ran over, and I just kept walking. Fucking bitch should not have touched me.
Incident #2
So here I was in wal-mart, I know I should not be shopping here and if I did not have a kid that wanted COD WAW I would have shopped at a mom and pop shop. I was walking by the toys and I heard little kids yelling and one crying.
If you have kids you this sound as the signal that they are 1.) Too hungry. 2.) too tired 3.) fucking screwed for the next 30 mins it takes to get them home and into bed.
I turned the corner on a long isle of toys and there was a dad type in camo tee shirt, and three kids also in camo tee shirts. One was about 2 and in the seat of the cart one was about 4 in the merchandise section of the cart and then there was the crier he was 6 and he was looking at the ceiling of the store wailing “please please”.
As I got closer I saw the dad type was pissed and ignoring the kid. And as I got 10 feet away he looked at me, got an embarrassed look on his face and bent over and grabbed the boy’s arm and shook hard. “ I told you to shut up!” I was now 6 feet away “listen you are giving me a head ache” now three feet away “this is why your dad left.” I brought my knee up into his face so fucking hard he did not even straighten out. In a 90º shape he flipped back onto his back. The boy stopped with a mid scream stuck in his throat. The dad hit the floor with a wufff! And I kept walking to the electronic department. Found the glass doors open grabbed the WAW case and left to purchase the damn thing.
At the register line I end up behind dad and his kids. No one is crying, no one was yelling.
The 6 year old looked at me, looked at his dad, tugged his dad’s arm and pointed at me. The dad turned, looked at me, and smiled a nervous smile and said, “hey about back there, I just want to…” “no do not mention anything” I cut him off.
“But I want to..” he said.
“no listen it is a terrible season, the economy is pooched and the corporate fuckers are just laughing at the rest of us.” And I turned to go to another line.
“Hey you big dummy you hurt my dad.”
I turned and smiled at the boy “ho ho ho” I laughed “merry Christmas. Son merry Christmas.”

Inaugural Address

I wrote this last month in case I was asked to be Obama’s speech writer. Alas I did not get the gig so this is all mine

Inaugural Address
By Rev. John Sleestaxx

Today we embark on a new era and new opportunity to make decisions based on our value system and not the one perpetrated by the foreign heathens or the corporate pirates.
Today we start an era that will begin our great divorce from credit demons and the slave traders of the banks. Today we make ourselves known as the new America, a sharper America, and an America that will be forever known as the America that woke up.
We need to retool our economy, we need to get off the horse (heroin) that is credit, we need to kick the crack habit that is materialism, and we need to say no to the pusher that is Wal-mart and the peddlers of the shit that is killing our economy. We need to get out and work and dig in the soil and build new clean plants that rival china’s, plants that can build our own consumables that that the world needs. We need to make the rest of the world realize that they need us too. That without us buying and consuming they would not be in the prosperous position they are in now. Most of those mother fuckers would be in the dark, fucking their relatives and in marriage to farm animals. The world needs to see us for the power that we are. Sure, they all say ‘oh those guys they are too stupid and they are bullies they are an old dog with no teeth.’ But they all want to live here; they all want to live the American dream. Lets us lift our dream to the world again and make it ours again. Let us create a country that is awesome again.
We will reshape our culture to embrace change and diversity, but at the same time swallow diversity. We will not get lost, like we have been, in the sea of political correctness. Because that is our failure of the past. We have tried to embrace, but got lost and we let the change swallow us, we lost our identity and ourselves, we lost our opportunity to strike out and be original. We became watered down version of someone else. We need to reclaim ourselves, reshape our culture so that we again stand head and shoulders above the rest of the heathens and pagans and worshipers of Satan. We need to be the one that is looked up to, we will be the ones that everyone listens too again, this is our time and we will make it happen. This change is going to work and happen and we are going to work to make it happen.
We need to redefine our position in the global community. In the past we were the ones that brought the conveniences and the innovations to the planet. We were the ones that defined what was new and cool. We captured the lightning and brought light to the darkness that was an age, we harnessed fire and heat to drive progress across the entire globe, and we tamed the wind to carry our dreams around the world and to the rest of the planet. We thought that the current system of communication was to slow we made new faster ways to carry our thoughts and words to the rest of the heathens. And when the rest of the world thought that all that had been invented and thought of and nothing else could be made or thought of, we took our shit to the stars man. We fucking left this world and fucking stood across the greatest divide and looked down on the earth and said “this planet isn’t so fucking big.”
And then we developed a machine that can predict the weather and we saved lives. We developed the internet and porn was unleashed to even the poorest pervert in the farthest corner of this globe.
We have always been the ones to make change. We have always been the ones to developed better conveniences. We, the ones that were cast out of Europe and sent to this lousy spit piece of land and look what we have done for this world and now we have gotten lost, we have wallowed and fucking screwed our fellow American at every turn to the point that the global community have forgotten that we are the “shit”! We need to get up and out and remind them that we are the “shit” again. We will be the ones that develop the next big thing and we need to be prepared to capitalize on this. Be it stem cells and life saving medicine or new transportation that will cripple the fuel markets and create new ones. But we need to get up off our asses and do this. We need to “kick this mother out!”
We also need to keep ever sharp for those that want to do us harm. Because we are the shit, we have our fair share of haters. There are those that want to do us harm. We may not have been the most proper in the past, but we also have had many attacks on us for the simple reason that we are the shit!
Let me address these haters, these detractors, these heathens and worshipers of Satan and false gods. No matter whether your god has a beard or wears a beanie or a turban or your god really is not a god because he does not exist does not exclude the fact that we are all bipedal animals with opposable thumbs that use tools and are basically social, we are all stuck on this rock for a reason. Stop thinking that you can break our backs, that your god in a turban is better than our god in a robe. We will be victorious because we are the shit! We are the mother fucking shit! And we bring change that will rock your socks and kick your ass.
America is going to wake up today and kick this mother out!