jump to navigation

Hellbound Brain March 6, 2012

Posted by The Typist in cryptical envelopment, New Orleans, The Narrative, The Odd, Toulouse Street.

Host to Chaucer: “And seyde thus, What man artow, quod he . . .”

Me to Chaucer: “one tyred sonne of a bytch, ye mooder swyver . . .”

Do I go read Emerson now? Really? Is there an energy drink with time release barbituates in it? Anyone know how to wire an alarm clock buzzer to my fillings to make sure I wake up? Does hearing Phillip Glass’s Glassworks in a distant train’s horn count as an auditory hallucination?’

When all this is over, I’m going to board a Hellbound Train and Pitch A Wang Dang Doodle (All Night Long).


1. judyb54 - March 7, 2012



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: