Monday, July 29, 2002

 

Last March, my great friend, Neo, came into San Francisco, with high hopes on beating us all at a game of Shuffleboard. Y'see, there's a bit of a rivalry amongst a few shuffleboard players,Neo included. He's always told tall tales of cheap tricks and dirty mistakes. He sometimes even spits out a chunk of garbage for no reason but to startle and confuse anyone within spittin distance. He writes good shit, to those of you who aint hep, and I submit to you, our readers, his triumphant foreshadowing of events when Ned's games of shuffleboard, or shufflefuck, as it were... when Ned's game of Shufflefuck turned Doc's Clock into the grand prix of Shufflefuck.



"Tonight there is talk of Shufflefuck and I wait impatiently to match up
with
SF Shufflefuck contingent, to show those mothers that all this
California
foolishness won't fool an old Chicago salt who plays his shufflefuck
dirty
and rough like a bull in a ring and if you really want to see a
bullfight,
take a cape and sword away from the matador and that's the kind of
fight I
like--straight up, no hitches, no bullshit, no games--I take my own
hits and
I dish them out quick and plentiful, toss a puck down the lane and I
will
take the greatest of pleasure knocking that bitch down into the pit of
the
damned, my puck glides sure and confident, strong and steadfast. Down
they
go, clustering up like a band of rock-headed brutes full of animosity
and
xenophobic rage, knowing no kindness nor guilt, filled with bad
breeding and
bad breath, pucks that come on like stiff pricks, they arrive like a SF
fog,
quick and heavy, and I thought I'd make those intentions, indications
and
reports known to all interested persons who might endeavor to tangle
with,
challenge or otherwise impede the rise and ultimate conquering of the
coveted
SF Shufflefuck Cup and I shall, after the eventual and inevitable
usurpation
of said cup, I shall return to the city of Wind bolstered on high by
the
powerful gusts in a throne of gold, holding the cup in hand, filled
with the
sweetest of wind and attended by rosy faced children naked in their
innocence, winged and laughing, ringlets of their hair bouncing in the
wind,
their chubby fingers reaching for the cup and dipping in the wind, the
clouds
rolling in, turning gray, and as I gulp the Adam's apple working up and
down
as I drain the cup and as one of the little creatures reaches again to
fill
the cup and somewhere behind over Lake Michigan a peal of lightening,
rolling
thunder and Neo on high, sipping and laughing now with mischievous
rambunction, spilling wine with wasteful carelessness, the elevated
throne
rising higher and higher, empty wine bottles tossed away into the sky
and
raining down toward the streets, laughter all around with thunder and
crashes
of waves and the laughter begins to take on the tones of Laughing Sal,
erratic, insidious, no longer jovial, no longer light or naive, seeming
to
suggest a hint of evil, a hint of horror, and suddenly a round of
coughing,
Neo doubled up, wine streaming from the corner of his mouth, the child
cherubim dispersing and abandoning him in fear, the throne veering off
over
the great lake where below the waters have grown dark and moiled, rain
begins
to fall and the chalice drops from his hand as he slumps back, his arm
over
the rest and his hand limp and stained with wine, and now the throne
divested
of it's angelic motivations beginning to plummet toward the waters
where a
frothy maelstrom begins swirling in its rage opening up like a whale's
mouth
and the throne caught in the whirlwind, twisting downward and is
swallowed up
by the upward reaching outward edges of the storm which engulfs Neo,
throne,
the velvet capes and scepter with it's golden embellishments and
intricate
carvings, in one vicious chomp and then retreating back into the water
and
the seas begin to calm, the sky's crimson rage fading to tranquil blue
and
life returns again to its silent idiocy as the cup rolls on the waves
and
arrives on the shores among dead alewives and cigarette filters,
seaweed and
driftwood."

posted by Hog 1:10 AM