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
Job
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
Alone
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
jelly
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.

nihtegale:

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

nihtegale:

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

(via medieval)

25 Things Every Woman Should Really Have By The Time She Turns 25

A mere ten minutes ago I read The Huffington Post’s article titled “25 Things Every Woman Should Have By The Time She Turns 25” and didn’t appreciate the fact that it deceived me into reading the whole thing when it should have been titled “25 Things Every Privileged White Woman in America Thinks She Needs By The Time She Turns 25.” If that were the case, I would not have opened the article. Anyway, I made my own list, and it’s actually vital to your well being.


1. Enough confidence to be able to face herself in the mirror and be proud of the woman she would make in prison.

2. A job or two where she makes at least minimum wage.

3. Her own specified weapon she chooses for herself to fend off the robbers, rapists, and like, suuuuuper clingy ex-boyfriends who just won’t accept that it’s OVER. Riot pepper spray, gatling gun, ninja stars, butterfly knife, Italian stiletto, an AK, etc etc etc.

4. A purse big enough to hold an emergency copy of the Alien Quadrilogy boxset on blu-ray. You never know when you’ll find yourself somewhere with an HD television, a blu-ray player, and at least thirteen hours to spare, not to mention the 48+ hours of bonus material, HEEEY OOOOOH.

5. A great head of hair, preferably dark brown and big and curly with cute bangs.

6. A rap sheet she earned.

7. Freedom from the codependency she suffered throughout her childhood years as a slave to her parents so that she can finally live on her own, breathe on her own, feel on her own, and kill her enemies all on her own.

8. At least one shirt, one pair of pants, one pair of shorts, one bra, one pair of shoes, and 7 pairs of underwear. The shoes can be ripped, it’s ok. Socks are for the rich.

9. The strength and foresight required to kill a horse and place the bloody, decapitated head into the bed of a man she fancies so that he’ll finally come around and let her love him. Sometimes all it takes is a simple intimidation tactic to get that man of your dreams to fall in love with you.

10. At least two forms of birth control and an accutane prescription on hand for whenever a breakout occurs.

11. An exercise routine she practices at least once a day, like cranking open the can of chili she keeps in her pantry next to her thirty other cans of chili.

12. Moisturizer with an SPF of at least zero.

13. A local bar she can always frequent and shit in whenever her roommate is using the bathroom.

14. The key to her chastity belt.

15. The social skills that will enable her to ask any man to change her tire if she gets a flat.

16. A free spirit that let’s her wipe back to front if that’s where her spirit guides her.

17. A great pair of tweezers to grab those annoying hard to reach boogers that are deep inside her nostrils, almost making contact with her brain, and redistributing the air flow when she breathes out.

18. A notebook to keep track of her goals, such as, “Buy more cheese,” and: “Wash towels.”

19. The smarts to know she must rinse her GATDAMN bowls and GATDAMN plates before she leaves them crusted up in the GATDAMN sink for her GATDAMN roommate to scrape off.

20. One big regret, like getting the barbacoa instead of the steak in her Chipotle burrito on her birthday four years ago.

21. The ability to start a car and put it in park, but skill in driving it is not necessary.

22. A hobby that involves either drinking, smoking, dropping acid, or obtaining a venereal disease.

23. One sport she follows religiously to impress men everywhere, like dog fighting.

24. Enough wisdom to understand that happiness is just a manmade emotion and nothing will ever turn out as she plans until the day of her death.

25. Female genitalia.