I just finished re-reading Burroughs/Kerouac unpublished 1945 collaborative crime novel And the Hippos were Boiled in Their Tanks, after finishing Burroughs' Queer....then I see this pic....


For some reason, I picture this guy having this song in his head....

A public service announcement followed me home the other day.
I paid it nevermind. Go Away.
Shits so thick you could stir it with a stick-free Teflon whitewashed presidency.
We're sick of being jerked around.
Wear that on your sleeve.

Broadcast me a joyful noise unto the times, lord,
Count your blessings.
We're sick of being jerked around.
We all fall down.

Have you ever seen the televised St. vitus subcommittee prize
Investigation dance? Those ants in pants glances.
Well,look behind the eyes.
It's a hallowed hollow anesthetized
"save my own ass, screw these guys"
smoke and mirror lock down.

Broadcast me a joyful noise unto the times, lord,
Count your blessings.
The Papers wouldn't lie!
I sigh, Not one more.

It's been a bad day.
Please don't take a picture.
It's been a bad day.
Please.

We're dug in deep the price is steep.
The auctioneer is such a creep.

The lights went out, the oil ran dry
We blamed it on the other guy
Sure, all men are created equal.
Heres the church, heres the steeple
Please stay tuned-we cut to sequel
ashes, ashes, we all fall down.

Broadcast me a joyful noise unto the times, lord,
Count your blessings.
Ignore the lower fear
Ugh, this means war.

It's been a bad day.
Please don't take a picture.
It's been a bad day.
Please.

Broadcast me a joyful noise unto the times, lord,
Count your blessings.
We're sick of being jerked around.
We all fall down.


Imagine if there was a terrorist attack or Bomb scare (not out of the question...it IS Berlin)...he'd have to flee for his life wearing that. Plus, is that really smart? I mean, at his age, the chances of dropping dead at any moment are not insignificant, even if he has lived a healthy life. This would be his last moment on earth, his last image, his legacy.

I don't ask that flippantly. This thought ocurred to me last week in vegas....twice. Once I was getting a lap dance and had a boner, the other time I was just jerking off in my hotel bathroom and about to pop. Afterwards I thought, "What if there was a Bomb Threat, someone Screamed BOMB RIGHT WHEN I WAS Going to POP? What would I do? Would I just escape with my life, with my hardon visible for all to see, or would I say fuck it and finish and take my chances?"