exerpts from Honky Extreme

At some point in the early '00s, I began writing down various ideas in notebooks. It typically happened when I was pissed off or something was bothering me in a big way. I had a million displaced emotions and it had to be channeled into something rather than let it fully shred myself into pieces. When the material began stacking up and the title "Honky Extreme" came to me, I decided to compile it into something that I refused to call a "book." Books are for literary types and I don't think I fit into that group. To borrow a quote from Henry Rollins, I just "talk shit." I'm a shit-talker.

Here are a few bits from Honky Extreme that I will sprinkle throughout this blog until the new material begins to flow more regularly.



permanent ink on a temporary page
the irony is just amazing



watch me walk through obscurity
watch me fall into infinity



what means nothing to everyone
means everything to no one



my misery doesn’t need company
my misery is a one-man band



We talk about anything. We talk about everything, except the things that tear us apart. We don’t want to feel the knife that cuts us free. It’s much easier to close our eyes and open them to reveal the bleeding flesh. Neither of us wants the blood on our hands.


I didn’t ask for anything and I guess I got what I asked for.


On the side of a Pepsi can:
“Please recycle. Store in a cool place.”

Hmmmm, like a refrigerator? Cooler? I guess that makes much, much too much sense. Perhaps those zany Europeans drink their caffeine-laced carbonated beverages at room temperature. Then it all depends on the climate of the room itself. Intense pressure to conform? You bet. If you shake it up, you will be wearing pressure and conformity all over your Levi’s Dockers and cardigan sweater. Of course, you could always store your Pepsi can in a cool place like embedding it in the skull of an enemy.


With the lights out, I don’t see the pain in my eyes
I don’t see the ravages of time upon me
I don’t see the fact that I am alone
I don’t see life tearing me apart
I see nothing but what is inside of me


My brain feels like an AM radio station that is slightly out of range. The message is slightly fuzzy and it gets really annoying. I’m simply looking for the power switch to turn the shit off.


Unbridled Irony Story #235

I find it amusing when I see a car with a Pro-Life sticker slapped on it driving like a bat out of Hell itself. I guess it’s all a matter of timing and just whose life are they protecting? I consider my life pretty precious, but apparently this jackass feels differently.

And another thing that pisses me off. After I’ve survived my encounter with the Pro-Life maniac, I get to work and realize that some idiot has taken about half of my parking spot. If you can’t fit your vehicle in a parking spot, then you’re not fit to drive. If you’re having difficulty parking, then have the common decency to straighten your vehicle so that others don’t have to deal with your incompetence.


alone by the window looking into the night
nothing but darkness and the faintest of stars
autumn’s wind blows a gentle breeze
across the page of some silly poetic crap


I feel like a brown, crusty rainbow.



I never thought I’d let you kill me.
I was wrong.
Your aim was perfect.


I hate the way you make me hurt
I hate myself for my feelings
The very things I cannot control will destroy me
If either of us is going to ache
I want to be the one
I want you to swim in happiness
While I drown in my own sorrow
And they say chivalry is dead