The Strange Wonders That Lurked In This World

Last night found me sitting at my grotty kitchen table buttering a piece when here I feel an almighty juddering spasm mid-spine and I fall sideways off the chair and onto the floor just like a big bag of spuds.

I lay there, consumed by agony, my frame jerking like a dog’s hind quarters when it’s taking a squirty shite. Boke the Cat wandered over and stood regarding me this way and that before doing an about turn and pointing his round little shrivelled up anus at me. He stayed like this for such a long time, long enough for me to imagine to myself that it (Boke’s anus) might bear some resemblance to the nostril of Ashanti Elliot-Smith that little girl who’s, like, 8 year old in human years but has the body of an 86 year old - all due to some freak occurrence in Time/Space the very moment she came out her ma’s box, something like a bleeding overlap between dimensions the very moment she appeared, causing her cells to go into super-fastforward like you get on all the new-fangled digital cassette machines, probably.

That girl is a fascination to me though. The things she's got is called Progeria Syndrome. The frame and build of a child, but the withered-ness and calluses of an oul’ cunt. I would like to hear what a nonce would make of that…

Which slaloms me neatly onto the issue of sexual deviancy. In order to try and cheer him up after his ordeal of the other day I made an effort to share with Party Time my penchant for the sexually surreal and disturbing.

After some consideration I decided that what would best give him an insight into the strange wonders that lurked in this world of mine were these two classics below:

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Two Girls One Cup was Top Of The Pops for Party Time. He flapped about like a fish outta water laughing and gagging in insanely sharp snapping alternations while I sat rubbing myself all the while. It’s a favourite of mine, too.

Divine in Pink Flamingos with the dog’s dirt he chundered at. I did similar on first viewing as well. I was 12 and a half when I first saw Pink Flamingos, directed by genius John Waters. I must’ve watched it 1000 times after that. I loved that scene the most. I burnt the tape out stopping and rewinding, stopping and rewinding going back to the point she puts it in her mouth. I started getting into finding out more about the act of eating shit, any shit, human, animal, whatever. When I discovered Salvador Dali ate his own shit I thought, ‘Cool bananas! Dali’s way cool! Should I start eating my own shit too? Will this make me a better painter, seeing I’ve now almost totally given up on the music career (having taped myself doing a woeful improvisational jazz album in the style of ‘Kind Of Blue’ by Miles Davis on my school recorder)’ – but the furthest I went was cleaning my arse with my bare hand one morning before school and boking into Mother’s bidet and all over my nice good shoes.

So while I reminisced on this it all-of-a-sudden dawned on me that Party Time hadn’t told me what he’d done with Kimba. So I turn to ask him, but he’s conked out – but so I let him be for the meantime.