the Human Brain and Superman

1

Well, I'll tell you my friend about that shit. I've always told people that I use cussing for emphasis but sometimes I just like to cuss. Shit. Scat shit poop-mother-fucker. It's like those screaming guitar licks that Queen has. It is like someone yelling at the top of their lungs and it is so loud and it makes your blood ice.
You know, when you hear shit like that.

Right now you would expect, you know, for the story to go somewhere, but it never does with me. Some purpose. And even if it does it is only a fucking lie because it is all a lie. Any piece of a story like that that tries to tell you something but there is so much always missing and they only include what they want anyway. So maybe I'll just include what I want, too.

My name is Fivel. No it's Redding. No it's Joel. No it's Papa McGinnsey. Ha. I'm such a fucking shit like that. Messing with the name and all and to what avail? But it is Papa McGinnsey. And I'm as old as a fucking owl. You never expect old people to cuss but they do. At least the smart ones do. Too bad all my friends are fucking dead. In other societies you know they look up to old people but I wouldn't trust a old person no not me. What would be the point? The world changes so much every 10 years and is so different. Old people do have something to say though, if they ever get past the point that they are so old or how things costed so cheap when they were younger. And let me tell you about how much that pisses me off. Those people. Talking about how when they were young things costed like 60 cents or something. And then everyone is like yah wow so shitty and shit. And fuck, then if you were to ask them how much they made per hour they'd say like a dollar five. So things have always costed the same, proportionally. But people don't think that way. They just think how much money they had in their pocket at that time and how much they could buy with things costing that much. And that is what it is all about anyway, the buying power that you have or could have. Because if you didn't have your money or your things you'd be shit.

So I'm fucking Superman. And I hate fucking telling stories. Fuck fuck fuck. You ever hear that bit by George Carlin about the word Fuck. It is god damn halarious. I love it. It is the most special word that can be used in any situation. But if you use it too much you can't use it for emphasis. I do get a little carried away sometime so I will stop there. With the fucking cussing of course.

I live in a city you might have heard of it called Muncie Indiana. Funcie for short. Stupid god damn town. I mean who the fuck cares. It is so boring here. The city is always trying to do things to get people involved in doing something, but they don't. They just don't care. It is like if every ounce in their soul was dedicated to doing nothing and if anyone was doing anything, they should go and die. And they'll give you that look too. That look like wait it looks like you are trying or going to do something. Stop it. Stop that. Don't do that. I really just can't quite explain it.

(Whore walks in front of me)

W: How you doin' sugaa'?
S: I'm fine, please get away from me whore.
W: Now how dare a' you just talk to me like that.
S: Well, sorry. But please get your fanny out of my face. I am trying to tell my reader something.
W: What you trying to tell him.
S: Well it could be her too

S: Does it matter what I'm trying to tell them. I don't have no story I want to tell them, I'm just trying to sit here and write something for them to read. Maybe entertainment. That's what I like most about it.
W: I ain't never done read no not book that been entertainin.
S: I guess I haven't either. Who the fuck cares.
W: Did you write about that time they cut down all those trees in this town?
S: What about it?
W: Well I just thought that maybe you'd tell them about that.
S: Why would they care? So what if the city cut down all the trees because of a bird problem--
W: And how all them birds flew across the river to the other side. They hadn't gotten rid of them birds at all!
S: Ya, funny. People would find that funny. I am trying to write a piece of fiction here that is a great masterpiece and it embodies all that is beautiful and true.
W: Honey, you ain't learned by now what is beautiful and true? That's just money. (slaps her ass)
S: Coming from a whore...ah...that makes sense to have that theory.
W: Well don't you just think you're the most stupedous and wise of what all God gave to this Earth.
S: Um, hush the god talk whore.
W: Don't call me a fucking whoe you fucking old man. Can't even get it up cunt. (It's always funny when a guy is called a cunt) Fuck you.

Good. Finally that fucking whore bitch cunt shit walked fucking away. Sheesh. I hate when people interrupt you when you are trying to do something.