kilgore trout (lefthanded) wrote,
kilgore trout

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oh two to do, the more we made a high on the law (my computer typed this on its own)

I went into boston again tonight with some of my peeps, this time to see the great Robert Schimmel perform at the Comedy Connection. It was great, he was hilarious, but his entire act was about various types of sex with various animate and inanimate objects. Don't get me wrong though, I love a good joke about giving a dog a blow job just as much as the next guy, and I'm in general comfortable with the topic of bestiality, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that I was too young to be there. It probably has something to do with to the fact that I still consider myself physically equivalent to a twelve-year-old girl. But regardless, he was great, and at the end of the show he told us this performance had been recorded and would be released as his next official album, so my laughter will soon be heard across the nation.

After the show, we walked around harvard square for a while, but apparently everything closes at around 10, or at least everything available to an 18-year-old. It was pouring and freezing, yet still somehow the streets seemed beautiful. It actually snowed earlier today, which confuses me because I think it's still November.

We got on the bus back to brandeis from harvard square, and a drunk harvard student got on with us and started calling one of the female members of my clan an asshole. Normally I would be like "yo, bitch, back up," and then I'd follow it with a quick left jab to the jaw, but something else was holding my attention. The bus driver's approximately ten-year-old son was sitting next to me and had fallen asleep on my shoulder, and suddenly images of uteri and mammary glands flooded by brain, and all I could think of was how glorious it would be to expose my teat right there and force the young boy to suck. Upon leaving, I contemplated taking him with me, sneaking him past his father under the cover of my shirt, but my instincts told me his life would be better if he remained on the bus, in the care of someone who'd remember to feed him, rather than force him into slavery.

The offensive harvard guy got off on our campus, and began vomiting and peeing on one of our buildings, clearly as an act of war. I began staring at him, waiting for him to zip up and look back. He saw me, I smiled, he smiled. I looked left, he looked right, and then I beheaded him with a single strike. I lifted his now limp body up above me, above the flame created by the intensity of my chi, and bathed myself in the blood that poured from his severed veins. The other brandeis students looked at me, at once thankful for and horrified by a power they could not comprehend. I lowered his charred flesh, recalling what it once was, and ate the tortured remains.
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