Thea Zimmer [https://theazimmer.wordpress.com]
Overhea(r)d
I love you because you made me a person.
I’ve hung on till this age: I’m finally able to believe people are this horrible.
Did you clean out your ears? Because there’s a slight cabbagy smell.
You don’t care that I keep being a downer.
We brought Booster home, and he aggravated Helga so much that she died.
Wendy’s has a codfish sammich. Pollo Tropical has a fried chicken sammich.
I’m not gonna eat totally bad til I hafta.
We have these ice-cream sammiches to eat, oh man, oh man!
Just box his ears, then he’ll become deaf.
You (cat) are too beautiful, too regal, for this family.
I gotta erection, but I wanna fish sammich.
You help me laugh at my own jokes.
You help me laugh at my own life.
The cats have a good day when yer stoned.
I was a slug in a previous life.
I’m glad you’re gonna start a new religion after I die!
Hope you remember these moments when I’m not a bitch.
***
McGough
Mr. Clampett McGough was born in rural Mississippi, and, after his service in the Vietnam War, was left a legless, genderless, toothless Jewish/Islamic Latina-identified-male.
He is a successful person. He has enjoyed literary recognition under numerous pseudonyms (each time with false academic credentials) only to be revealed posthumously.
He nevertheless dwells on countless memories of “inadvertent groupie-sex” with several post-Beat writers with names like Kenny and Hunter.
His first wife, Moodge McGough, achieved fame when she jumped off the Eiffel Tower during their honeymoon. His second wife, Swiney McGough, survived uneventfully until an unfortunate accident with The Ass-Faulters.
Clampett has subsequently fathered a black son, Wendell-Clampett McGough, in miraculous conception, without a female.
He has a blue tractor that has magically fixed itself, and an abused purse and shimmer-bus (that have not fixed themselves).
Zia Thimmer, his one-time sex-slave, has been charged with the responsibility of changing his diapers and editing an anthology she is convinced will be to his liking (“Oh how I loved her, her face like a beaten chicken-bag with eyes”). She will make all decisions with any (hopefully rare) tie-breaking falling to Mr. McGough.
Overhea(r)d
I love you because you made me a person.
I’ve hung on till this age: I’m finally able to believe people are this horrible.
Did you clean out your ears? Because there’s a slight cabbagy smell.
You don’t care that I keep being a downer.
We brought Booster home, and he aggravated Helga so much that she died.
Wendy’s has a codfish sammich. Pollo Tropical has a fried chicken sammich.
I’m not gonna eat totally bad til I hafta.
We have these ice-cream sammiches to eat, oh man, oh man!
Just box his ears, then he’ll become deaf.
You (cat) are too beautiful, too regal, for this family.
I gotta erection, but I wanna fish sammich.
You help me laugh at my own jokes.
You help me laugh at my own life.
The cats have a good day when yer stoned.
I was a slug in a previous life.
I’m glad you’re gonna start a new religion after I die!
Hope you remember these moments when I’m not a bitch.
***
McGough
Mr. Clampett McGough was born in rural Mississippi, and, after his service in the Vietnam War, was left a legless, genderless, toothless Jewish/Islamic Latina-identified-male.
He is a successful person. He has enjoyed literary recognition under numerous pseudonyms (each time with false academic credentials) only to be revealed posthumously.
He nevertheless dwells on countless memories of “inadvertent groupie-sex” with several post-Beat writers with names like Kenny and Hunter.
His first wife, Moodge McGough, achieved fame when she jumped off the Eiffel Tower during their honeymoon. His second wife, Swiney McGough, survived uneventfully until an unfortunate accident with The Ass-Faulters.
Clampett has subsequently fathered a black son, Wendell-Clampett McGough, in miraculous conception, without a female.
He has a blue tractor that has magically fixed itself, and an abused purse and shimmer-bus (that have not fixed themselves).
Zia Thimmer, his one-time sex-slave, has been charged with the responsibility of changing his diapers and editing an anthology she is convinced will be to his liking (“Oh how I loved her, her face like a beaten chicken-bag with eyes”). She will make all decisions with any (hopefully rare) tie-breaking falling to Mr. McGough.