ilx posts with striking imagery

nothing comes out of my butt when i masturbate.

― Yerac, Saturday, March 7, 2020 11:23 AM (nine hours ago)

theres ppl on the planet who pay good money to be probed all sorts of places but listen i dont judge em i can only tell you ill jumpstart a hearse get it rolling toward the graveyard fling myself into the back of it and will myself to room temperature before i become fig a in the nightmare above

― thou shalt not covid thy neighbour's wife (darraghmac), Monday, March 23, 2020 2:56 AM (six hours ago) bookmarkflaglink

classic deems

one time i tried to hoover up a wasp, then it was alive in the cylinder so I hoovered up some smoke to kill it, then I sucked up a burning ember and the whole thing turned into an inferno, and I had to throw it in the garden. wasp still somehow survived. can't go so badly this time though.

this shambling hulk of a man who sweats butter and cums foie gras is in the peak of good health!

― bam! Free bees! (bizarro gazzara), Wednesday, 8 April 2020 12:09 (two weeks ago) bookmarkflaglink

yeah, sorry about that

lol, always (figuratively) spraying your starchy tatty watter all over the place! Hope you are having a good bizarro gazzara day old pal!

"a handful of idiots that own very little but are still gung-ho to reopen society"

I'd classify them more as the driven than the drivers, but they occupy the figurative space of the dogs hanging out the window and loving the breeze as they are taken to the death shelter.
― A is for (Aimless), Thursday, May 14, 2020

I mean just the variation in respiratory physiology and your manner of speaking could explain it. You could be a confident braying firehose of coronavirus vs some other person with gnarled and turbid sinuses that speaks to the floor in whispers.

― avellano medio inglés (f. hazel), Wednesday, June 3, 2020 12:53 PM (four hours ago)

Turbid Sinuses 2020

reminds me of summer seven years ago when I was forced to attend a weekend family reunion on my mom's side at a rented cabin in Wabasha, Minnesota where I was subjected to endless games of cornhole while being forced to wear a commemorative yellow Larson Family t-shirt and the last thing I remember hearing before blacking out drunk on Busch Light was the horrible cackling of my racist aunt-in-law bleating the words "now they're going after Paula Deen"

― the burrito that defined a generation, Wednesday, June 17, 2020 10:25 PM (twenty-four minutes ago) bookmarkflaglink

That’s not striking, that’s just Thanksgiving

there was some Bruce Springsteen photo with pubes posted once, it was hot

― brimstead, Tuesday, June 23, 2020 9:42 PM bookmarkflaglink

rawr

tonight im making a nice dessert. grilled peaches, skewered with a cinnammon stick and mint leaf. brushed with butter, bourbon and brown sugar sauce. then, placed on top of vanilla ice cream. i may hump them.

― Chris 'The Nuts' V (Chris V), Friday, May 20, 2005 9:17 AM (fifteen years ago)

when we played rock paper scissors on the playground, this one kid would always go "bulldozer!" and of course that would defeat any other choice. but then this one other kid would go "bart simpson!" and somehow that would defeat even the bulldozer. i couldn't watch the simpsons at that time (circa '90) because our family television's reception didn't pick up channel 30/fox very well at all. but i remember thinking, wow, bart simpson is very powerful

― Karl Malone, Friday, September 11, 2020 12:25 PM (nine hours ago) bookmarkflaglink

maybe not the strikingest imagery but i wanted to commemorate this post somewhere

Always think about the middle-aged Silent Generation couple dressing up and getting a sitter so they can go see the latest Peter Sellers movie.

― pplains, Wednesday, September 16, 2020 12:03 PM (fifty-seven minutes ago) bookmarkflaglink

i mean sure in a just universe we would never have gotten here but i'm trying to apply occam's razor somewhere other than my wrists

― Fuck the NRA (ulysses), Tuesday, September 29, 2020 12:47 PM

From Bands whose fans were their own subculture

My only more personal interaction with a Juggalo was with a Juggalette in a small town in mountainous northern California.

We'd hopped off a boxcar the evening before, grabbed beers and food, and found a good place to camp by the river. But later that night, it began to rain, so we had to pack up all our shit and hike in pouring rain to an overpass, where we slept in dust for a few hours.

Eventually we wandered back into town, ending up at an oddly placed gazebo along the main street. It was still pouring, and we were exhausted, and then this young woman came up to us and asked us if she could help us in any way. She also asked whether we had gotten in on a freight train and we said yes. We were a little suspicious, but we followed her when she said we could dry off and cook food at her house.

Which was a small, bleak apartment in an old apartment building that used to be a whorehouse, in sight of the river and the train tracks. We were hanging out with her, she kept packing bowls of ditch weed and talking about how her kid got taken from her. There were lots of legal papers scattered about, and she had two very young kittens living with her. We had our stuff in her dryer and cooker up some chili ramen.

Then, she answered her phone with a "whoop whoop" and we knew immediately that we were in the presence of a Juggalette.

Her mom came over and asked us why we were trying to get her daughter to run away from the small town. We told her we were doing nothing of the sort.

Eventually, it cleared up and our stuff got dry, and we cleared out. We talked about her sometimes, the kindly Juggalette.

Two years later, we're at the hobo museum where we eventually lived for a while, but that's besides the point. She was there! It was near the town where we'd first met her and during a party weekend, and I recognized her immediately. She had a hatchetman tattoo on her foot. She didn't recognize me at all but kept hitting on me all weekend even when my now-husband showed up and we were being all gross and queer hobo.

Anyway, when we moved to the area for a bit and I worked in the grocery store in town, she came in while I was cashiering, and my co-worker watched her try to steal a bunch of supplements. So, the last time I saw her, she was telling me that I was cute but that my co-worker was a terrible cunt who could get fucked. Never saw her again, a lost soul in northern California mountain towns.

― healthy cocaine off perfect butts (the table is the table), Saturday, October 3, 2020 5:15 PM

Raymond Carver meets ICP.

Woop woop

i love that post very much, it’s so good

Spaghetti models keep shifting west, with current landfall in largely uninhabited wetlands of Vermillion Parish. If they keep shifting, its another hit (after Laura) on Cameron Parish. Possibly the least developed part of the US Atlantic coast, just what's left of wetlands after the oil companies were done. Abandoned canals through wildlife refuges, only gas stations and gun shops on the highway.

― Sanpaku, Tuesday, October 6, 2020 9:21 PM (thirty-seven minutes ago) bookmarkflaglink

j.g. ballard up in here

Paint that post

My uncle's band played for years at The Howling Dog in Fairbanks, Alaska, which is technically not in Fairbanks but in Fox, the next town over. It's huge and drafty and impossible to heat, so it generally closes for the winter right after Halloween. It's a longish drive, and you risk hitting a moose every time you drive out there on a dark icy night in late fall. I miss it a lot.

It kinda looks like a huge ramshackle cabin with a stage and dance floor, and it's got the usual dive bar decor - bras, signed dollar bills, album covers, weird-ass art projects - but the centerpiece is the red carpet on the stage, which was originally rolled out for a historic meeting between the pope and the president at the Fairbanks airport in 1984. I asked my uncle once how the carpet got to the bar, and all he said was, "My buddy Steve. He lays carpet," which didn't really answer the question.

― Lily Dale, Monday, October 19, 2020 9:58 PM (yesterday) bookmarkflaglink

Excellent

yeah that's great writing imo.

agreed

from K Malone:

i have pissed in a nightmare tent in absolute darkness with dozens of men all around me, at a beer festival in tianjin, in swampy, piss-logged grass

I’m with you in Rockland

We were trying to get north from Portland and were getting tons of conflicting information about where to hop out, so I insisted the three of us hitch, since it had been three days since we'd moved at all. We began late in the day, and of course, ended up in a stripmall in Vancouver, WA, just across the river from Portland. It was drizzling lightly. We posted up at a gas station that sold beer and hotdogs, went to an on-ramp, and one of us went back to grab beer. No rides, too late in the day, weather too shitty. The beer mission yielded four cans of Camo Black Ice, a malt liquor that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, but we drank some of it anyway. We ended up hidden in some bushes in a grassy strip right next to the on-ramp, curled up in our sleeping bags with a tarp tied over us as the mist continued throughout the night.

The next morning, it was Father's Day, and we awoke covered in dew. We shared the final Camo Black Ice, then walked for a while through the stripmall, trying to find a spot that was open for food, and it turned out that all the stores were closed— that is, much of the mall had been deadmalled years previous, and few of the stores were actually operational any longer. It felt, quite honestly, like a horror film. An expanse of empty mall parking lots, shuttered and boarded up stores, and three skinny crusty kids with huge packs wandering in this fever dream. But then we stumbled upon a single open store in this long strip: a Subway.

They had just unlocked the door when we walked up, and as we entered, the opening notes of Paula Cole's "I Don't Want to Wait" began, and I felt like I was going to faint because it was just too fucking weird. The guy behind the counter was amused by us and asked us some questions, then ended up giving us a ton of free food and chatting with us. Keep in mind that at this point, none of us had showered in four days, and we'd been sleeping in bushes and garbage-strewn train yards while hiking around and drinking beer in the heat of the day.

Then, as I was tearing into some sort of egg sandwich approximation, Rod Stewart's "Forever Young" came on, and we were all sort of silent, and it remains one of the most oddly spiritual moments of my entire life— listening to this cheesy power ballad in a deadmall's Subway at 7:30 am on Father's Day after sleeping in a bush, I felt like something was watching over me, or us.

Anyway, that's why I fucking love Rod Stewart.

― healthy cocaine off perfect butts (the table is the table), Wednesday, October 28, 2020 4:05 PM (twenty-five minutes ago) bookmarkflaglink

Amazing post.

it warms my heart to see table's poetic talent get props here

One of the many things I like about ILX is that unlike most parts of the internet, it encourages and rewards effort, and so we get posts like the above and threads like this one.

Magnificent post. I have been trying to find a non-gawky way of asking but can't find one so: Table, where can I read some of your poetry? (By all means, call this out if it's intrusive!)

Not at all! Thanks for your kind words. Work from the most recent published book is here.

Also my webmail works!

i was also curious. thanks for sharing

This is one of my favorite threads because it's just a series of quick hits of often excellent writing.

ja es ist gut

weirdly i looked up "I Don't Wanna Wait" on YouTube for the first time ever, three days ago. Never knew it was about a granddad and not some bratty teens!

There's also the whole saga of Paula Cole not wanting it as the music for DC on Netflix then changing her mind and so on and so forth

but we want to know right now Paula

where have all the fuckin' cowboys gone

lol

and i loved it too, table!

Table, you have webmail! (How does one know if one has received webmail?)

I got it, Chinaski, but unless you also have webmail, there's no way for me to respond to you! So send yr email if ya like!

I thought I did! I'm turning into my dad.