Tony Curtis and Trudeau Stay In Reading RFK's Memoirs

“Do other actors have a fear of crinkling their crinoline right before a big dance?” – Tony Curtis

“Oh, I’ve dated my fair share of black girls. So yes, I connect with today’s youth.” – Pierre Trudeau

“The Cuban missile crisis will go down in history as the closest humanity has come to the edge of destroying herself – In hindsight, who would miss it? Aside from Chinese food, what would be missed? These thoughts (and Ethel's hands) keep me awake at night.” – RFK memoirs

Whistler's Mum Picasso'd Lincoln

"I painted clothes on her after heated public debate and media pressure." - James Whistler, on painting techniques forced on Whistler's Mother

"I can get everything right except for the breasts." - Picasso

"Four score and seven years ago yo' mama was so fat she used the Potomac as a bath tub and when she jumped in, the british jumped out... Also, she was ugly." - Abraham Lincoln

Elton John Wakes Up To Carl Sagan And Russian Lucy

“And then I thought, ‘Why not try this one a little gay?’ That’s when the rhinestones kicked in.” - Elton John

“Billions upon billions of germs washed away.” – Carl Sagan favors Listerine in the morning

“The Russians… The Russians? The Russians can suck my dick!” – Lucille Ball

Paul Simon and I After The Nuclear Holocaust Of Next Thursday

Written By An Angry Young Man In A Giant Rat Costume

After the explosion is finished I think I’ll take my rat costume off. I don’t need it, it’s not like I smell - I do smell, but not what you would think I smell like. Does pride have a smell? Yep.

I smell like pride and sweat and axe body deodorant spray and a thirty year old giant rat costume that was once worn by both Ted Bundy and Bon Jovi when they worked at XIXXXY XOXLD. I often tell pretty girls (and young mothers) that it’s Bon Jovi’s.

Children and dykes get Bundy. I guess after the atomic explosion is done and the blast radius kills off most THE FAGS DYKES NIGGERS SAND NIGGERS SPICS CHINKS INJUNS CRACKHEAD TEEN MOM FLATCHEST NOOBS SLUTS STEP DAD/MUM EX FATTERS CHRIST SUCKIN WHITE TRASH and PHONIES I’ll ride my bike-------------------------------- Drive my mom’s car------------------------------Drive.

Drive to Arizona and live in the Grand Canyon and spend my time between a lifetime vacation and day trips to Graceland.

I’d rather not be wearing my giant rat costume in Graceland – just in case Paul Simon is there.

Yeah.

Paul’d probably write a song about it all, about making it out of his fancy four million dollar white wash colonial home, leaving behind him his fancy hi def recording studio and his 3^rd comeback album. He’d take the demo to Cecilia 2 and his African drums with him DRIVING RIGHT BY his ex wife who left him to fuck Geddy Lee in the VIP Sauna at Elvis Costello’s Bris.

Paul would just be laughing and tapping out a beat on the gas pedal of his SEA FOAM Toyota Sienna brainstorming up a new song about the irony of it all NOT GIVING a fuck anymore about the meaning of the word irony because fuck it, he’d make up a new meaning. Something that has more to do with how small a dick Geddy Lee’s got and how his ex still begs him to let her come back and he just keeps on laughing and tapping out this new HOT beat and drives past her house while radiated ash ruins Geddy’s 86’ Twin Turbo IROC and full head of hair.

That would be the new meaning for irony he’d write the lyrics later, perhaps when he reaches Graceland and sees me in black jeans and a Genesis Tee and stops. Just STOPS. Surprised to see anther LIVING soul maybe a little scared because my head’s been freshly shaved, quickly becoming (self) conscious of his demo tape and African drums in the back seat but I’d say RELAX and he’d know. JUST know that I was cool and shit would be cool and that he could finally have someone to explain the NEW meaning of irony and I’d instantly understand and Paul would show me the drums – THE DEMO TAPE we listen to on Elvis’s HI FI system and write lyrics to “Irony” that afternoon, making time for Paul’s famous Breakfast Burritos (for dinner) and a night drive to my little spot in the Grand Canyon. On the way there we both get uncomfortable as a flash of my mum’s perfume just misses our noses. Her smell JUST out of reach as we drive faster. So, without invitation we start drinking in order to breathe it back.

Going 80, slinging BUD and talking about the Civil war, discussing Hitler, Who shot JFK? And Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid THINKING OUTLOUD what we would do if we were them. Crying a bit when we come to the same conclusion, making a silent vow to end it all together THE WAY BUDS SHOULD. Before falling asleep Paul sings a bit of Genesis – something the lawyers never let him do and we talk and we make promises about all the pussy we are going to bring back to the Grand Canyon THE VIEW the fucking view. I speak the last words before my first sleep under stars HOW ABOUT CALLING IT CECILIA --------- AGAIN?

SLEEP then there would be no more RASH BAD TEETH HEADACHES NOSE BLEED BLACKOUT MEDICINE DOCTOR BLOOD NURSE RATCHET CRY BABY TESTS NOTHING DARK NO MONSTERS XBOXLIVE COMMENTS TUCK IN CEMETARY NEIL DIAMOND RAT COSTUME PICTURE ALBUM SAD SONG BLACK PRIEST CONFUSED DOG FRIDAY. ONLY PAUL SIMON AFRICAN DRUMS GENESIS GRAND CANYON GRACELAND (maybe mom).

The stars. It would be a night where the stars were so many; up there without number or name like Paul and ME ALONE BUT ALIVE. Happy to be apart from all others and still shine brightest.

This. All this after the Atomic Blast and after I take off (or clean) the giant rat costume. Look for it:

Graceland. Arizona. POP. 2

Willy Loman Takes Advice from Bing Crosby and Teddy Roosevelt

“Let me be your teddy bear.” – Teddy Roosevelt's original campaign slogan

“The trick to good parenting isn’t how hard you hit them, or with what type of belt you hit them; it’s about who’s hitting them… the answer is you, bum bada bum bum (whistle).” – Bing Crosby

“Why not… it’s my birthday, I’ll take the nylon rope.” - Willy Loman

Tony Curtis and Voltaire Couldn't Party Like Philbin

“Get your own dry cleaning kit, trust me – you'll get tired of questions when you take those dresses in around midnight.” – Tony Curtis

“The center of the universe is this fucking party!” – Voltaire

“I love you fist deep!” – Regis Philbin Club 54

Carl Sagan, Voltaire and A Pint Of Ice Cream

“Then of course… I might be wrong. Not fucking likely, but you know – maybe.” – Carl Sagan

“Why is there anything… If I can’t get breakfast all day?” – Voltaire

“Just remember there are no answers at the bottom of the ice cream pale, just less ice cream… buy more ice cream.” – Ben (not Jerry)

Carl Sagan's Credit Is Better Than JFK's And Marilyn's

“Republican, Democrat - all their pussy looks the same.” JFK

“I’m Carl Sagan, put it on my credit card.” – Carl Sagan buying gas

“Joe gets more fan letters than I do, Tony Curtis writes him six times a week.” – Marilyn Monroe

The Night Einstein Woke Me Up To Go Get Whores With Ted Kennedy

I DIDN’T WANT TO HEAR IT BUT THERE IT WAS THE DOORBELL
The fucking doorbell ringing at whatever time it was in the morning. I had just pulled myself into bed after a marathon of making love to my beautiful wife MXXXXXX who, like clockwork, was fast asleep the second after she came. Typical. I tried to shake her, pinch her and press into her but after that rigorous lovemaking how could she not be comatose. THE FUCKING DOORBELL would not stop ringing, at what I was sure to be an ungodly hour – Ferchrissakes it was even being held down and played to some rhythm, maybe an old Al Jolson song. I was pretty sure it was an Al Jolson song but it was late so who can blame me for being off on the tune. I tried shakin’ that beautiful wife of mine one more time, slapped her ass a bit and slyly grabbed at her crotch. Nothing. Tonight it was I being forced to go downstairs and slap the face off of whoever was waking me up at this, which was (I’m almost certain) and unholy hour. My house is a big house, I make a lot of money and I’m not afraid to buy the finer things in life for my family. I can’t tell you what I do but just know that’s it’s important and sexy as hell. No! I’m not a spy. But I am nimble, which is probably why it was so easy to jump down the giant oak staircase that is the centerpiece to my Monticello and grab one of the heavy ivory handled umbrellas (From Elvis) for self-defense. In case you’re wondering the umbrellas were a kind of I’m sorry present after his dogs threw up in my hot tub. I had it in my mind to use the three thousand dollar umbrella to bash in the christallfuckin’gad head of whoever was responsible for waking me out of my favourite dream. As an aside I was dreaming (without shame) about buying the first car I’ve always wanted; a 1956 Buick Le Sabre with white walls and automatic transmission, air cruise option and my fourth grade music teacher in the driver seat. THE FUCKER WAS STILL RINGING THE BELL! As my right hand - my strong hand gripped at the large crystal handle of my thirteen foot gold leaf door, I thought of my gorgeous wife asleep with half a pint of me in her, and my kids who are on the honor role at the private school that I PAID FOR with MY MONEY given to me for doing a job that’s too important to even tell you. A primal instinct long dormant arose to its peak. I turned that handle and pulled. Tonight was the night I would kill, I WOULD KILL WHOEVER DARED TO WALK MY LAND WHOEve…
Einstein.
Goddam Einstein. Drunk, covered in the tattered rags of pre war sweaters slurring in that damn funny accent of his estimating my mass unzipping his pants.
“Watch out I gotta’ piss.”
I moved out of the way just in time to see that dirty old man whip out a cold calculating dick and piss all over my HEATED CHINESE CERAMIC TILED FLOOR. His hair was a mess, as usual, he smelled like dogs and gin and for the two solid minutes it took me to convince myself I was awake and that this was happening he would not stop pissing on my floor.
“Guess where I’ve been?” He said as he dabbed the head of his penis on his undershirt.
“The kennel.”
“Those fuckers… not after last time. GuesswhereI’veBeen?”
“Get the hell outta here! It’s three am.”
“It’s 2:48.”
“Go home. You’re drunk and you smell. Here, let me call you a cab.”
“Fuck off, I don’twannafuckin’… Cab?”
“Yeah you do. GET OUTTA HERE! You ain’t coming in.”
I struggled with the old genius, he was and always has been a surprisingly strong drunk so I really was at a disadvantage and needed to, I stress this - I needed to stop him or he would have come in and woke everyone, everything I have worked for UP. Just as he was charging to take a run - if you’re ever been drinking with Al you know what kind of trouble I was trying to stop – I jammed the ivory handle up into his throat.
“Faaughhhhhuck!”
I don’t feel bad about it, it needed to be done he was trying to trespass. This was my house, my GODDAMhouse with my perfect wife and perfect kids; even my dog had promise. I was not going to let this drunken scientist come in and what? Try and rape my wife? THE COCKSUCKER! I hit him again for me even thinking of the idea. He started to cough up a bit of blood right about when Ted “I Thought She Was 17” Kennedy tackled me down, cracking several of the HEATED CHINESE CERMAIC TILES.
“Get off get off GETOFF!”
“I’ll keel you fer dat, nobody touches MAH BUHDY.”
Ted had been “parking” his car on my neighbor’s lawn when he caught a glimpse of three thousand dollar’s worth of Ivory smack into his drinking bud’s turkey neck. We started wrestling on the floor and though I am proud of my body (it is, without exaggeration, truly something to be proud of) I was no match for all that goddamn Ivy League football shit. I got to my feet just before he tackled me into a bust of Liberace (a gift) and I fell back with what was left of the air in my lungs forced out, confused and looking at me gasping on the ground. Ted was huffing and puffing and his big fat Irish face was turning all kinds of red. I saw that he was coming over to start kicking at my ribs (The Kennedy classic), when I remembered a trick some girl from Michigan had taught me after I said she looked like a dyke in plaid. Just as he loomed over me in his big ‘I’m going to get the black vote stance’, I kicked him as hard as I could in the jewels. Right square in the jewels and lemme’ tell you. Aside from having sex with my gorgeous wife, picking up my kids from school and watching COLOR TV – there is nothing I like or enjoy more than kicking a big guy – especially a Kennedy – Right Square in the Jewels. He let out a big Irish grunt and said something about my mother then collapsed, crushing Al as he tried to regain his posture. We were all on the floor heaving and wheezing, three geniuses in our own right as weak as we were born. Ted threw up and then started to sing an old Irish tune. I would never say this in front of his family, but Teddy has a beautiful voice. Al Spoke first, which surprised me.
“Get dressed.”
“No.”
“We’re going out for whores.”
Ted got himself up and looked at me with a huge cunt hungry grin. In the dead light of my front hall he looked a little cross-eyed.
“He’s a feisty one, kicked me in the nuts.”
“You kicked Teddy boy in the balls?”
“The jewels, and yeah I did… HE TACKLED ME!”
“It’s an auld Harvahd Jowke. I’s thawt you sid he wint ta Harvahd.”
“I didn’t go to Harvard. “
“Thank Fecking Gawhd, Want Happun agin pal. The ferst whore’son me.”
“I don’t want a whore.”
For the first time since I opened the door a silence fell upon my house that would make the cosmos crack. God stopped masturbating life into every corner the universe and looked back in awe of his creations. Bukowski woke up from a cold sweat and vomited blood. That last one may not be related to this specific event. The two looked dumbfounded but I could see that Al was calculating, cooking up a hypothetical reason for why I didn’t want to get a whore. As he twisted his face and stuck out his tongue I could tell he was stumped.
“You’re a fucking liar, of course you wanta’ whore, Ted’s dad is paying for it.”
“Yeah.” I could hear Ted pissing in his pants.
“I don’t want a whore, I want to sleep.”
Al was going at it again, trying to put it into an equation that he could understand; Nice house+wife+kids+dog+47.5 years – FUN + separate accounts= Whores!
“Come on we’ll take care of it.”
“I said No.”
“Whadsa mahtar? How cames he dan’t wanna whoooore?”
“He wants one he wants one, you want one right?”
“NO WHORES!”
“Yu’se summa kindah fagit?” Ted cocked his fist, each knuckle looked like a little honey-baked ham.
“I’m not a faggot.”
“Good, Then let’s go get some whores!”
“Shhh.”
“Is it your wife? You’re afraid-listen we’ll keep it quiet we don’t have to bring em’ here we can bring them to Ted’s place.” Ted shook his head and pointed to no direction in particular save the horizon.
“We’ll take em’ to Bobby’s then. What do ya say? You like Bobby.” I did.
“Get the fuck outta here I ain’t going with you to go get whores at four in the morning.”
“It’s 3:08”
“Fuck off Al, I ain’t going with you. Get outta’ here before you wake my
Family up.”
“Faggit.”
“Fagut.”
They left me standing there in a very expensive terry cloth robe with vomit and blood on cracked HEATED CHINESE CERAMIC TILES as they piled into Ted’s “parked” car and drove off to what I can only expect would be another boy’s night out without me.
I checked around my front lawn to see if they damaged any of the azaleas or geraniums, or if they left anyone behind. Nothing. I had won, and so I looked out unto my quiet gated community, my kingdom and my heaven and searched for the plume of twilight air. I found it on my front porch, how sweet it was, how sweet the air was behind a gated community. How beautiful the crafted peace was, how radiant the lack of energy was – For this instance I finally felt like I was a part of a universe, not just as a grain of sand but also as a working cog in a greater machine. I’ll admit it. I cried a little as I watched Ted Kennedy and Albert Einstein “drive” away looking for whores at five in the morning.
Pulling the door shut and leaving it unlocked, I let go another little tear. I was walking up my big oak staircase bought with my own money, passing by my sleeping kids, getting an erection at the thought of their bright futures and slipping into the warm bed beside my faithful wife; slowly playing with her breasts until I fell asleep. I was truly alive.

This is what the politicians and the geniuses oftentimes forget ; the simple things are all that matter.

- Art.

Washington Convinces Margaret Thatcher To Test Edison's Golry Hole

“We all agreed that ‘Mr. President’ sounds better than ‘free pussy for life’.” – George Washington

“Daddy’s home.” – Margaret Thatcher

"I present my latest invention: The Glory Hole." - Thomas Edison

Joe And Monroe Spend Valentine's Day With Frank And A Depressed Jackie O

“Oh yeah? What team does Arthur Miller play for?” - Joe DiMaggio

“She’s alright for a fat chick.” – Frank Sinatra on Jackie Kennedy

“Joe liked it when I wore a Chicago jersey, Artie liked it when I wore blank paper, Johnny liked it when I wore red and Tony Curtis liked it when I wore his dresses.” – Marilyn Monroe.

Orson Welles Directs Bukowski To Mr. Bond

“I’ve never wrote a piece of fiction in my life; James Bond is a real person who must be stopped. Why don’t people understand this serious problem?” - Ian Fleming

“It only hurts the first time.” – Orson Welles on “Acting”

“I’m currently writing a kid’s book about happy jumping puppies… Robert Crumb said he’ll draw them as giant cocks for half price. I told him I could just cum between the pages for free.” - Charles Bukowski

Chaucer Played With Sharks At Pearl Harbour

“I have no regrets.” Unknown Man with Shark bite to groin.

“Ain’t nothing getting finished until I get that check baby.” – Chaucer

“Five more minutes, just let me sleep for five more minutes.” – Unknown Pearl Harbor Sentry

Hitler and Tom Clancy Discuss The Titanic

“I wear a size twelve… Why are you sniggering?” – Adolf Hitler

“If I wasn’t writing about espionage and the military, I’d be chronically masturbating… Hmmm.” – Tom Clancy

“Port is left, STARBOARD is right Goddammit!” – Capt. Smith, HMS Titanic

Ian Fleming Wrote For Ted Bundy and Bing Crosby

“Chitty Chitty Bang Bang was also based on real events. I’ve never… ever been as happy as I was that week.” – Ian Fleming.

“Black Lab puppies are my favourite… They taste great.” – Ted Bundy

“Three kilos and two dead hookers later, out came White Christmas.” – Bing Crosby

Rock Hudson and JFK Golfed With Manson

“The trick is to line it up with the back nine then wait for the wind to change – feel for the moment and just follow through, always follow through.” - Charles Manson.

“I can bench press two… no! Three men at once.” Rock Hudson.

“Of course I feel bad about Cuba, just look at this erection – this is a sad erection.” - JFK.

Chaucer and Churchill Waiting For The Tide

“Closer…That’s it…Closer, you son of a bitch… closer.” – The Beach To The Tide.

“Lady Astor: If you were my husband I’d poison your tea.
Winston Churchill: You are a fat old cunt who I wish were dead or dying.” – Winston Churchill, sans propaganda.

“And I’ll call it ‘The Canterbury Tails’, a sex filled romp through England.” – Chaucer.

At Kitty Hawk, Pres. Truman Stole Darwin's Wallet

“If man was meant to fly he would have wings on his back and fireworks up his ass…and maybe some kind of aerodynamic vessel in which to propel himself and a highly trained international crew, powered by…oh, large cylinders of combustive fuel that would give enough propulsion to surpass the earth’s atmosphere, sufficiently breaching the earth’ s gravitational pull and send the “rocket” ship within landing distance of the closest heavenly body…what’s it called? Ah yes, the moon! HA, I’d sooner vote for Taft than believe that possible.” – Unknown spectator at the Wright Brothers flight demonstration at Kitty Hawk NC.

“Tickle him, and if that doesn’t work tickle him some more, we need those damn equations.”- President Truman in regards to a defiant, yet unfortunately ticklish Einstein.

“Well, it didn’t just get up and walk away… did it?” – Darwin, pondering the evolution of his missing wallet.

Thatcher and Ted Hughes Read Anne Landers

“Use milk instead of water, and double the cocoa powder - trust me... That’ll get rid of the blacks.” - Margaret Thatcher

“Fuck em’ young blood should have kept their mouths shut, don’t do nuttin’ unless you ready to be sumtin!” - Anne Landers to Reader’s Digest Editor Carrol Winters. August 1975 at Lake Tahoe. 3pm. Six Bellinis Deep.

“You can hiss all you want from in there, I’m not coming in that kitchen.” – Ted Hughes

Kissinger and Yo Mama'

“Chickens don’t exist. There, now I’ve said something crazy let us continue with negotiations…” – Henry Kissinger.

“I’ll do it. But I want more money.” – A Young Mother Theresa.

“I hate children.” – Your Mother At Age(s) 17, 20, 23, 27-54.