The Establishment

When I was a child
I thought school was just
A place
That kept you from
Taking a shit when
You needed to.

Now I am an adult
And have a full time
Where I have found
Work to be just
A place
That keeps you from
Taking a shit when
You need to.

My Shit and Me

Nothing feels better than a
Large Shit and being
With my thoughts, pens, and plenty of paper.
Funny how the
Anus contracts after a
Huge Shit.
Feels good.
It is my center.
Take away my ability to
Shit and I am left with nothing.
I live to see the next Shit.
We have nothing else in
This life.
It is the purest thing left;
Every Shit is like a treat.
It means my body is still working,
I am still alive,
I am still living.
Proof of how I live on the edge.
Nothing else matters,
Only me and my Shit.
My Shit does not complain, it simply Acts.
We work together,
We aid each other in our cause,
We fight side by side to attain its’ freedom.
A true friend,
A Standup Pal.

A Poem Written in the Park

I’m hungover and hungry and
starting to get cold.
Should’ve brought a jacket
of some kind.
This is a park.
A somewhat peaceful
park that acts as a
fake getaway from
city life.
This was once a rich
bitch’s home, an estate
she commissioned some
guys to build for her.
It’s now a park.
And I sit here and
pretend that I am far away
in the woods,
in another world.
No, I am still in
LA, and if I stand up and
keep walking I’ll be in sight
of the other assholes like
me who want to have a
“peaceful retreat”
for the day.
The bullshit is still down
there and up here and
over there and under
this and under that.
I chose to live here.
Where else would I go?
What else is there?
I am just hungry now.
I do not care where I’m
at, I just want food.
And a toilet.
I need a toilet nearby.

Diet Plan

Taco Tuesday
Wonton Wednesday
Thrimp Thursday (lisp)
Falafel Friday
Salmon Saturday
Sunny D Sunday (detox)
Meatloaf Monday

Internet News

A Yahoo! news headline reads
“J. Law’s Hot Summer Look”
and another reads
“Is Miley Cyrus Over?”
I clicked on both of them
skimmed the articles
looked at the pictures
It’s 11:19 on a Monday night
Nothing is on TV
nothing in my fridge
I’ve got bread in my pantry
but no peanut butter or
I’ve got leftover canned chili
but no clean spoons
I work a double shift tomorrow
No clean clothes
no socks without holes
Is Miley Cyrus Over?
Fuck off.

An Open Letter to the Hollywood Pep Boys

Ok Pep Boys, you took my last paycheck and you’ll get the next one too. But if my car breaks down one more gatdamn time after your grubby hands have violated my baby I am kidnapping Manny, Moe & Jack and selling them into the sex trafficking industry so they can know what it’s like to get FUCKED. No longer will they be able to prey on innocent young women with an embarrassing ignorance of all things automotive. You deal with my kind every day, I’m sure. But helping a poor broke woman out isn’t your style now is it? No no, you like to pillage and plunder the weak and helpless. Men should help women who don’t know shit about cars. Isn’t that an ancient proverb? I still haven’t paid rent and am recovering from the $780 I gave you two weeks ago in good faith that my crippled station wagon would be fully repaired. And yet she’s doing the same old janky shit again and now you want to ring out even more money from me. FINE. Take it all. I can survive off taco truck tortas for the rest of the year, you PRICKS.

An unfortunately frequently paying customer,

Jessica Salgado

Another Independence Day Down

I do not see the world in continents. There are no geographical lines on the world map I have in my head. There is only the earth and the fools on it. I let the noise of the day’s fireworks hit me as if there was a battle going on outside my apartment and my apartment was in some romantic European city during one of the World Wars and people were dying and falling in love and dying. Anywhere but here. These fools are so happy to watch some lights sparkle in the sky. Lord on High please give me the whole world to myself for at least a week. That’s all I want. I will roam these streets, fly my own planes across the globe, swim through some canal somewhere, the gulf of some country, swim anywhere! I’ll run and leap and run and leap and run and leap. I won’t walk my usual route to work because I won’t have to work. I won’t shit in a toilet; I’ll squat in the grass. I’ll finally live. Oh Lord, everything can finally be done if I could just be left alone on this strange planet. And so another 4th of July has passed and we can move on to the next Holiday. Yes yes, let’s get it over with. I’m sure I have to work that day.


Illumination on the death of Hanno the Great, c.1479-1480


Illumination on the death of Hanno the Great, c.1479-1480

(via medieval)