The Devil and Miss Cyrus

As I sat down today to put the final touches on my new book THE WARLORD, THE WARRIOR, THE WAR, I fully realized an unfortunate fact: summer is back! For some that may be an exciting time. Images of beaches, lemonade stands and palm trees come to mind. But for me, this is the time of year where I seek shelter. I become even more reclusive as I seek out cool, shadowy refuge from the ever present burning orb threatening to ring the moisture from my body through a process known as ‘Swamp-ass.’ As I have stated before, I live in a region of California called Devil’s Tookus and swamp ass is a common condition in this area. I don’t need to go into detail about what is involved with swamp ass, suffice to say you should envision a swamp and an ass and combine the two. Instead of flocking to the beach with the other gulls, I shelter myself away and through a miracle of nature I become more pasty white than I am during the winter. I’ll leave the sun-induced melanoma to others. If I can help it, I only go out at night. There, the cruel and hate-filled sun has retired and only his radiant heat is left behind to torture weary travelers such as I. But there is no true relief while residing in Devil’s Tookus. At 11 p.m. the temperature is still 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Swamp ass at midnight is not something you want to experience. No amount of Gold Bond powder will do you any good. And I checked the latest forecast and it shows a picture of Satan holding a lighter up to his derriere and farting flames on a sleepy town for the next five days.

Devil Farting Fire on Fresno. Crayon on Paper, 2013 *years of art training went into this.

 A thought occurred to me as to how to help the drought ridden areas of the world. But as the thought developed, I discovered that I have limits to what I can handle visualizing before the gag reflex kicks in. But I’m guessing that you the reader do not have such issues, so here it goes. And I’m relatively certain that this could work. As I said earlier, swamp ass is a very real problem. But it can be used for the greater good. We, as a nation, could set up swamp ass milking stations across the country and, eventually, the world. You simply step into a private booth, remove your preparation soaked undies (yeah I said undies. So what of it?) and put them in the chonies-press to ring out and remove the excess moisture. From there the perspiration is gathered in a cistern where it is desalinated and then sent to be flash pasteurized. The ‘moisture product’ could then be sold to major retailers, marketed under the name, END RESULT, or it can be shipped to Nebraska in drums simply marked ‘WATERS.’

 

*I call it moisture product because of Kraft Singles. If you look at the package, Kraft says the slices are Cheese Food or product. It’s either cheese or it’s not. I don’t call a sirloin steak a meat product nor does Nabisco call Oreos cookie things. Damn it, I made myself queasy again thinking about cheese singles/slices product food stuff. It’s not even really cheese colored. It’s more of a fleshy orange-ish pink. I could use it to color a picture of Miley Cyrus, who, like so many before her, seems to be collapsing under the weight of having a fully mature vagina. On that note, I would like to propose a bill making it illegal for any girl to gain celebrity until they reach the age of 29 and only after they have dealt with the harsh reality that without a doubt the world does not revolve around them. The bill would have to contain a Bieber provision which makes all boy bands and Bieber-like performers banned for the entirety of civilization. I’m certain that the bill would have to be amended to outlaw Kanye Kardashian and Honey Boo-Boo as well. And don’t even get me started on truth in advertising where it concerns the History Channel. I would dearly love to see most of their programming disappear into history. But discussing how shows about truck drivers relate to history is best left for another day, because I need to head to the chonies-press.