Preachin' to my peeps!

You know it's funny. Don't fuck with my art. It's expression. Westside bitch.

When the shit hits the gym..

...Today at the gym, some guy was in the stall taking a big-ass shit. You could tell that he still had his headphones in and was listening to some type of rap music. Knowing this, i was a little less bladder shy and began to urinate.

But then he started making noises. Real noisy noises. Small grunts, and wind blow outs. Like he was having a hard time trying to whistle. But didn't realize how loud he was being. Then i started hearing his poopy come out. There was a lot. You could tell he had just had a protein shake by the amount of feces and smell that was coming out of him.

The only way i can describe the sound it made, well it sounds like 300 feathers of shit shooting out his ass is at once...well, kinda like a plastic bag being tossed around. Or someone blowing on tissue paper. A very high protein shit. Lot of little pieces, i could tell. I was very interested in this man's dookie.

Then the smell. That protein shit smell. If you don't know what that smells like, walk into any men's bathroom in a gym...THERE! STOP! RIGHT THERE! You smell that? That's it. Like the bottom of a shoe. Kind of rubbery, kind of wanna gaggy, kind of like frozen peas and sulfer whooshed together as one.

I heard him spinning the toilet paper off the roll. *TUMBA-TUMBA-TUMBA! TUMBA-TUMBA-TUMBA!*

Didn't take him long to wipe. He was quick. Probably didn't want to lose his pump, and make it back to the hack-squat machine before it got racked up. You could tell by his brisk walk, he was working legs that day.

He walked out the stall. I closed my eyes and whiffed in as the door woofed his dookie poop smell into my face. Kind of opened my mouth, so the scent would sting my tongue, and i could taste what he had for lunch...Mmmm. Tuna Sub, Lite Mayo. Oil and Vinegar.

Peeped in the stall...He was reading an old issue of "Flex Magazine". That figures....He seemed like a pretty big faggot to me.

What a loser.


-Chainsaw

Hungry Minds think alike..

Mmmm....i must be HAAAWN-GREE!!

Lady of the Lake

Oh lady of the lake.
Who's legs have turned to wheels.
With rotation she loves.
With revolution she runs.
And limbs have taken to cold steel.

Oh lady of the lake.
Who's numb buns caress the waters edge.
And the wind that whistles,
as stinging past erect nipples.
Pull yourself ashore,
and let the rolling recliner relic antique legs..that once ran free.

Oh lady of the lake,
Barrel roll your body to the waters edge, and clean between your thighs.
The water's cold silks past your skin,
but your legs are still asleep.

Oh lady of the lake.
Handicapped cripple.
A lake.
And it's ripple.
Lady of the lake. Get the fuck back in your chair.


~chainsaw allen 2009

Super Nanny = Huge Tits!

Yeah, I'm pretty sure i'd do it with the Super Nanny. Jo Frost. She's got that big girl sexy body thing goin on. Ya know what im sayin? Like she'd totally be real dirty in bed, always telling you in that Monty Python accent "Chreese-to-fuh! You've bean bahd! Hivn't You?!"

I bet her feet fuckin stink though. Got them fat girl Fred Flinstone lookin toes. That's what i'd have to work on with her. And she's probably got them huge pink dinner plate nipple/areolas that are real light pink that just kinda fade off into the rest of the knocker. But other than that. She probably knows what she's doin. Takes it in the ass. Shit like that. I could work with that.

Super Nanny. Come to my house. I been beatin my lil sista ovah the head with ah broom..

What i make when im bored.

Man, you ever get so high you think shit like "Man, if i wasn't so high right now, i could drive and look for a job."

Then you start thinking about the car itself, and how you could fucking build one if you really wanted to. I mean really. how hard can it be to build a car.

Then you get even more high and start thinking about building a computer form scratch. i mean SCRATCH scratch. like you got a box full of copper and plastic. you gotta start making all your own wires and shit. You'd be there for days i bet.

Where's chainsaw been? ..You haven't heard. He's building a new super computer. He's gonna send it up to the moon. then that computer is gonna make robots, and those robots will do the same, and so on and so on. And before you know it, chainsaw has put a computer civilization on the moon starting with a box of fuckin copper wires he stole out the wall from some meth lab. ...Wow. see i new that chainsaw kid was gonna do something great in life. He was always so out there and creative. I just figured he'd make a cartoon show or something. But putting life on the moon. Goddamn. That came outta no where.


Then you ever get in your car and just fuckin zone out and all the sudden you're like 5 minutes down the road and go "How the fuck did i get here, i wasn't even paying attention!" Man...thats some far out stuff. Maybe thats the DMT jesus molecule guiding you through the jungle of monkey life. You could always swerve into a telephone pole, or my favorite, crashing into an ambulance. But what if u didn't die.

OR what if you did die! and you never got that box of tiny fucking wires, for you to twist together, like you're closing up bread, and never got to build that super computer to begin the base on the moon.

So maybe today when you're getting high, pull that box of old computer parts out the closet and start hot gluing them together. They all laughed when you got stoned and broke your tooth falling off the porch swing. But who's gonna be laughing when you break your arm doing 150 MPH on your rocket bike through the Anatolia Crater on the moon. I won't laugh...i'll be there. helping you back up on your rocket bike with a Moon Menthol Light hanging from my mouth saying through my moonman smoke filled mask "Dude...Man....You were going fast as shit.."


-chainsaw

My Friend Kyle

Oh, this post is long over due, not only do I mean blogging in general but this specific entry. My very good friend, Kyle Heard resides in Gainesville Georgia. Yep, the good ol' south. Recently, he had a real cock sucker of a buddy have a "blog" written about him. To say the least, Kyle (pictured top left) was upset no one had yet to write about him. So i would like to take a little time to really boost my friends ego, and let him know anyone can have a blog written about them, not just cock suckers.

Kyle was born in a small town outside of Laloonsherd Alaska. Raised to an elite dog sled team of 21 furry pups, his mother and father were 3 year Iditarod champions, hoping young kyle would follow in there mushy tennis racketed footsteps.

But from the age of 7 to the age of 12, kyle struggled with an adulterated drinking dilemma. "Rising with the Shine" as he would always say, Kyle was destined to a life of drinking, women, probation, and mind numbing pot smoking.

Kyle use to have this buddy named (for this story we'll call him Lame. Lame (real cock sucker. bad attitude problem. kleptomaniac.) This dude use to steal shit from chainsaw's house and deny it. He use to get his haircut in the back of the pizza place he use to work at. Joke's on that dude now, he has a kid.

What did that have to did that dude have to do with anything? Nothing really. I just like how his fatass use to get his haircut in the pizza place. Anyways, one day "Lame" shot Mr. Heard with a B.B. gun he stole from chainsaw's house, long story short, kyle spent some time in jail. Probie popped K-man with a piss test and landed him in the dog house.

Kyle use to ask chainsaw too urinate in small shampoo bottles for him, so he could pass his drug tests. What a great thinker!

Anways Kyle Heard dreamy dude mixing blues, folk-rock, indie and roots all in one to create a heartfelt expression and from my personal accounts, a very honest man.

So to my friend K-man, anyone can have a blog written about them. Not just cocksuckers.


-Chainsaw