All around, the hounds of maturity howling with insane bloodlust. You, The Duke, is what they say. These people have all moved on, have done stuff, are doing stuff.
And The Duke sat there infatuated with the savage purple, and the savage purple offering a hand, for sure, a beautiful, elegant hand that not five minutes ago held a cigarette like the way they used to hold cigarettes before they realized the damn things were raping their lungs with noxious poison, but I can't grip that hand, man.
It ain't mine to grip.
And on and on. "These people are stepping out, The Duke, and where they're headed is a phone number listed under their own names and addresses."
Still, fuck it. I can spell ecclesiastical like a motherfucker. Must count for somethin'.
So, Springtime says.
It says; Where does that leave us?
It says; I'm on my way. What the hell have you learned from it all, anyhow?
And what I say is something along the lines of "I dunno. But in your company I figured out some stuff, and I feel like I've moved along a bit, and I got to read some great books and see some great flicks and hear some beautiful music and see some transcendent smiles bathed in savage purple."
I say "Maybe I'll only realize I learned something when it's 2006 all of a sudden and I don't recognize a word of this."
Who the fuck learns things in this day and age?
But I know this; I know that yes, it is time for to leave my arsehole.
I've came out the right side of addiction before, man, and an addiction to the inside of ones anus can be conquered just as surely as a human being can say "No, I will degrade myself no longer with lashings of the whiskey / the brown / the novels about vampires living amongst us."
Hi, I'm The Duke and I'm a recovering self-obsessive.
I'm making a clear break towards the light.
What happened was, I got stuck up my own arse.
Heads nod knowingly. Eyes say, yes. I been there too, metaphorically speaking…
Sometimes around February I started exploring, maybe just with half an arm or a shoe at first, maybe a cautious half-hour or some such before bedtime, but before I knew it, I was right up my motherfucking arsehole, spending whole days in there, then weekends, then months at a time.
Every now and again I'd reappear, maybe with some new song about Oh I'm So Lonely And Also Kinda Tired, Truth Be Told, or maybe with some rambling essay about precisely why I'm having trouble kipping, about why she makes me want to mean something all of a sudden, and then I'd be submerged anew.
Article comments
1 - Temple Stark
Is this your audition tape for Innerspace II?
2 - Eric Berlin
Great stuff, Duke.
So what's next now that you've sprung free well into summer?
3 - Mat Brewster
Up here in the furthest reaches of The Duke's Arse, though, that winter gets painted all shades of metaphorical, and metaphorically, it was the harshest winter a motherfucker ever endured.
Beautiful, beautiful stuff, Duke.
4 - swingingpuss
The post was as pleasurable as a quick illict scatch on the arse ;-)
5 - Aaron, Duke De Mondo
Thank folks.
Temple - You rumbled me! I'm hoping to play the part of Dennis Quaid acting as The Duke.
Eric B - i have no idea where summer is goin to be takin a fella. someplace less internal, i'm hopin. who knows?
Mat - Thank you, man.
And Swingingpuss - That was EXACTLY my aim, in those very words ;)
6 - Eric Berlin
Man, I'd love to see an Inner Space sequel with The Duke in the lead role.
7 - Aaron, Duke De Mondo
haha Eric, i'm hoping you'll use your power for to get me into a room with dennis quaid. i can persuade him.
8 - Greg Smyth
It says "Look here, a ring. Where's yours? Oh, sorry, forgot. If You See Her, Say Hello�"
Perfect, man. Perfect.
9 - Bennett
Kinda held off reading this, just knowing that it was there for me, when the time was right, when I had the time. So now its 95 fucking degrees outside, and I go out there to cool down.
There's a puddle of sweat on the floor under my chair, cause reading The Duke while eating hot shrimp soup in 110 degrees of humidity (the darkened room doesn't make it cooler you know) tends to make rivers and oceans run from all parts of my body.
But your words make me remember the cool breezes of Spring, annihilated by this brute of a Summer Sun that's baking my itchy feet in some kind of Inquisitorial torture.
But the memories you have me recall, memories of a time before the ground baked so hot that it cracked, those memories, they make me cooler for a while.
Thanks Duke.
10 - Aaron, Duke De Mondo
Greg and Bennett, thank you!
Greg - sometimes Bob says all there is to say about any given situation, alas...
Bennett, i'm glad you enjoyed it, man. i always feel guilty after flinging stuff this self-indulgent online, but if it keeps those puddles runnin (hah) then what harm can there be? scacely ANY, i'd wager