Fictocriticism

2010-02-19T23:31:00.000-08:00

Skittle Boy

2010-02-06T14:45:00.000-08:00

Lyle walked into the restroom at the Garden of Eden Gentleman's Club and Bar.

Beaten. Disheveled. Morose. Failure.

Lyle's original plan for the evening was to snort two lines of cocaine, get three more lap dances from Kitty Kum, Polly Puss, and Clara Clitz. After this Lyle wanted to stop at The El Torte Taco Shop for a chicken burrito, go home and watch a VHS copy of Jade obfuscated by his tears, and contemplate suicide for eight minutes.

"To hell with it." Lyle growled, shaking his fist like a principal in the 1980s who just found out he was out of the running for the superintendent job. "I'm not going to keep on living like a punk. i'm going to go out with some style."

Lyle looked in the mirror. "Candyman," he said. "Candyman, candyman, candyman... CANDYMAN!"

Smoke and flashes of light briefly filled the restroom. When it cleared a three inch tall Candyman stood by the tiny mirror.

"Why do you want to live?," Tiny Candyman asked. "If you would learn just a little form me, you would not beg to live. I am rumor, It is a blessed condition, believe me. To be whispered about at street corners. To live in other people's dreams, but not to have to be. Do you understand?"

Lyle scrunched his eyebrows, "Uh.... yeah. I'm not begging to live. I knew what I was getting into when I said your name five times. I wanted you to kill me... but I don't know if you're physically able to."

"Physicality is a manifestation of the imagination," Tiny Candyman replied. "Everything you believe is real and creates the essence of 'being'."

"What the hell is this, Way of the Peaceful Warrior? Can you just sting me with a bunch of bees or something?"

'Unfortunately not, I only bring suffering on terms that are not acceptable to my prey. For what you desire you will need to summon Wishmaster."

Lyle squashed Tiny Candyman like a bug. His hand was cut in the process.

2010-01-20T18:45:00.001-08:00

The Battery

2010-01-20T18:06:00.000-08:00

Pinche puta! Fucking plug again, dios mios! I knew it wouldn't last. Pedro, that little bitch. My drinks are gonna be warm again, fuck it. It's so cold out I should be more worried about my balls man.

Maybe Hassan has ice, that fucker owes me.

What the hell is up with these bitches! Take that torch and shove it up your ass man. If they only knew that crazy Eleanor bitch was in there they would run. Or maybe they would still take photos, ha-ha, fuck.

I wonder how much she makes... Fuck that shit, I wouldn't do that. I would still feel like a puta with the mask on and how do you get out of there. Take the metro in a fucking statue dress, fuck that shit man. That bitch does a great job.

She can have it.

At least I get to see the nature and some cute honeys from time to time. I'd sell warm water over being that big bitch from Ghostbusters any day.

2009-12-30T23:03:00.000-08:00

Brutal

2009-12-28T20:46:00.000-08:00

"This isn't a fake ID," M. Guerro said to Corey.

"Yeah it is," Corey replied. Corey was the President of a company called Corey's Fake ID's. It was not registered with the Secretary of State in CA and only had customers at Palmdale High School.

"No It's not. It's an ID for a psychiatric ward."

"Right," Corey agreed. "It's an ID for a psychiatric ward. And it's fake. Ergo... a fake ID!"

"But..." M. looked at his fake identification card, "Why did you make me this instead of a drivers license?"

"Because you gave me three dollars, asshole."

M. Guerro went inside the Kirby Forensic Psychiatric Center. There were some Doctors there. One of the Doctors had a mustache and stood behind a counter.

Hi, "M. said, "I'm 21 years young. Do you guys have any beer?"

The doctor looked at M. Guerro as though he were crazy and said, "NO! Only Vicadin and Prozac."

M. Guerro thought for a few moments before deciding on a bottle of Prozac. The Doctor then grabbed M. and dragged him down a long white hallway.

"What the hell!" M. screamed. "Where are you taking me?"

"To your room. You're crazy!"

Inside the square padded room M. sat in the corner. He swallowed a Prozac pill.

"Well, at least I'm happy... and the Doctor did think I was 21... so I guess I got a pretty good deal for 3 bucks."

2009-11-28T14:47:00.001-08:00

Victoria

2009-11-28T14:33:00.000-08:00

The Guttierrez children had a habit of competing with each other. Their mother, Rosa Guittierez was comparatively late in having children. By her 30th birthday, her three older sisters already had children in their teens and her youngest sister, Rosalia, had two of her own. When Rosa finally found her man, they quickly married and she caught up by having 5 children in 4 years, but when the last of Rosa's children was born, Victoria, half of Rosa's womb came out with her, ending that generation. Rosa was satisfied with her children, but couldn't help holding back the slightest amount of resentment toward Victoria.

Victoria was oblivious to it as a child and misinterpreted these signals in her teens. Listening to alternative music and wearing darker shaded clothing. The slightest sign of favoritism was picked up on. Each one multiplying against the last until one day uncle Massimo let the cat out of the bag. "Even if Rosa could have more children, none would be as sweet as you. Don't feel guilty anymore." Unfortunately, uncle Massimo's revelation back fired, further ostracizing her from her family.

On September 25th, the Guttierez family got ready for the 17th Annual San Lorenzo County Art Fair. The children decided to hold a worst dressed contest. Eduardo brought his ZONE perfect backpack. Maxine wore her old teddy bear coat. Rebecca put on Eduardo's fedora. Rosa joined in and wore a dress over her t-shirt. Victoria on the other hand fought her way out of the competition, but still went along for the art.

2009-10-21T20:47:00.000-07:00

'88 til Infinity

2009-10-17T22:00:00.000-07:00

Larry was riding on the Subway. He was playing a handheld video game based on the animated series Masters of the Universe. He didn't pay for the video game. He got it free from Sears in 1988 when he purchased a combo denim jacket/Jeans (which he was not coincidentally wearing).

Larry played the video game often. He played Super Mario 64 on Nintendo 64 once in 1997. He didn't enjoy it. Larry thought it was too "hectic" and didn't have any "soul."

One time at a bar called Cheers in Brooklyn Larry got in an argument with a patron. The patron had the belief that Jack White was the greatest guitar player off all time. Larry disagreed and stated that the best guitar solo ever played was by Steve Stevens in Billy Idol's Rebel Yell because it featured a good "laser guitar" sound that is still futuristic to this day. The patron asked Larry if he ever listened to The White Stripes. Larry said he hadn't. He said he didn't listen to any music after hearing "Rebel Yell" because there was no point in listening to music after hearing the best song ever created.

Larry got off of the subway when the subway stopped. He didn't put his video game in his jean pocket because there was a hole there. He walked up the stairs to the street and towards Ricky's Deli Mart. Larry believed they had the best sandwiches. He didn't eat there every day.
He ate there every time he left his house to eat.

2009-10-10T16:35:00.000-07:00

Ms. Lee

2009-09-13T14:28:00.000-07:00

That foot print there looks like a Reebok, a Reebok Trainer... a very deep imprint deep. They must have been running. Good for them. It's very difficult running in the sand. You loose a lot of traction in sand. I've run on the beach a few times. I remember Santa Monica once, playing Frisbee, That must have been during sophomore year. No, junior year. Kevin was there. Yeah, it was his birthday or something like that.

I just have to accept the fact that I'll never know why that didn't work out.

There goes a Basset Hound...

You loose a lot of traction running in the sand that's for sure. It seems like the harder you press against the earth the less ground you gain. A sprinter will still go faster, but they have to exert a lot more energy than someone on a flat surface. There must be a correlation there. Energy exerted and distance gained. I've heard it's good for your ankles though. I wonder if walking is similar. My shoes have pretty good traction. I don't feel like I'm loosing much ground, at least nothing significant.

2007-05-30T23:45:00.000-07:00

The Slitheree Dee Ain't Got Shit on Me

2007-05-30T23:28:00.000-07:00

The sun slowly drowned in the bloody red sky...

Kelcey O'Reilly and Pete Wilshire were sitting in a motor boat. It moved swiftly on the water. Kelcey was smoking a Pall Mall. Pete had curly orange hair.

"We've been circling this lake for hours," Pete yelled over the engine, "We can barely see anything now. Do you really think you're gonna find anything."

Kelcey heard him. But didn't respond. He was the captain of his motor boat. The captain of the SS Baha. And he would not take shit from anyone.

"I say we call it a night and take the boat back to shore," Pete said with his hand on Kelcey's shoulder. "We can come out first thing in the morning."

"Fuck, Pete. You know that the only people who decide when this boat goes to shore are the O'Reilly men." Kelcey inhaled Pall Mall smoke, "And now, I'm the sole O'Reilly man. So sit the hell down."

Pete sat down.

The boat skimmed the water for five minutes.

Waves began to rock the SS Baha.

Pete quickly stood up and pointed, "Kelcey... look..."

"I know."

The creature was 200 meters away from the motor boat. Bobbing up and down in the water. Waves ensued.

"Pete, hand me the seal bombs."

"What seal bombs."

Kelcey turned around. Looked at Pete, "Did you bring the seal bombs."

Pete looked around the 4 meter long motor boat, "Ummm... actually... no."

The SS Baha turned around and returned to shore. The creature returned to the dreary depths from which it emerged.

... The sun was slowly swallowed by Lake Loch Ness. It wasn't powerful enough to prevent it's fate, and the world at once became dark.

2007-05-08T04:45:00.000-07:00

Thursdays

2007-05-08T02:26:00.000-07:00

Thursdays always seemed to be especially hot. The lifeguard at the corner of the deep end sat in her white chair and seemed to be watching the little children play in the water. She picked at the stubble growing on her legs and wondered if any one else could see. She was self conscious on Thursdays. That's when Shane and her shifts over lapped. She had Monday to Thursday and he had Thursday to Sunday. She always hoped that when Monday morning came around she might find something he left behind and return it to him that Thursday, but that day never came and Thursdays always started with the all too familiar colleague salute. Something that at times left her feeling emptier than if they just didn't acknowledge each other at all.
She felt guilty for not doing her job, but accidents at the pool hardly ever occurred. Instead she spent most of the day watching Shane. With dark sunglasses it was an easy thing to do. She would turn her face to the pool, scan around occasionally, but always keep her eyes trained on him. She enjoyed watching his every move and made a sort of game out of it. How often he would shift in his chair, why he scratched his arm, when he would wet his lips and where he was looking, but never thinking that he was doing the same.

2007-02-21T23:31:00.000-08:00

Going Down to Liverpool

2007-02-21T23:11:00.000-08:00

Andre sat on his back on the beach. He was looking at a female. She was attractive. Valentino sat on his stomach on the beach. He was looking at a notebook. He had written some words on it.

"Hey Andre," Valentino said without looking up, "I think I've got the perfect name for our band."

"Go for it," Andre said without looking away from the female.

"Neon Rendezvous."

Andre shook his head, "Nah, too pompous."

Valentino crossed out the words Neon and Rendezvous on his notepad. "How about The Flux Capacitors?"

"No, not subtle enough."

"Um," Some more words were crossed out, "The Positron Colliders.?"

"Too subtle."

Cross, "Monsters in Your Closet?"

"Too Silly."

"Rockasaurus Rex?"

"Too obvious."

"Death by Stereo?"

"Already taken."

"She's Lost Control?"

"Too 80's"

"How about Bebop and Rocksteady? Or Sirhan Sirhan? Or The Titanic Survivors? Or The Rainy Day Cigarettes?"

Andre slipped the brim of his hat over his eyes, "Those are all shitty names."

Valentino tore the page out of his notebook. "No problem. I'll just keep at it."

Andre stared at a female. She was attractive. "Whatever."

2007-02-14T17:43:00.000-08:00

Oscar the Decorator

2007-02-03T08:26:00.000-08:00

Oscar loved the Monterey Bay Aquarium. His cousin Omar took him there every Sunday afternoon. They would use their grandparent's yearly pass. The cashier never cared to ask why they looked so young and just appreciated that their happy faces added a little more color to the crowd. Oscar's favorite exhibit was the petting zoo where you were aloud to actually touch the animals. How clever, he thought they were.
One evening after school Oscar crawled into a garbage bag, poked his head and arms through the sides, attached branches as arms and wore cardboard boxes on his feet. He then scampered around the surrounding trailer park trying to hide from the residents. It wasn't till eight o'clock that night that his mother came home from work and realized what was going on. She scolded him and asked why he did it. He replied that the Decorator Crab or Cyclocoeloma Tuberculata does the same for survival.
There was no aquarium trip with his cousin that weekend. Instead, Oscar stayed home watched 4 cartoons and 64 commercials, then helped his mother in the garden. Oscar thought about his animal friends and if they thought about him. Maybe they missed him, like he did them. He became frustrated with his mom and wanted to cry. That night he designed the first underwater trailer mankind had ever seen and made plans to live under the sea for the rest of his life.

2007-01-01T15:40:00.000-08:00

Into You Like a Train

2007-01-01T01:18:00.000-08:00

While attending a New Years party with a few acquaintances Lionel was asked why he wasnt "macking" on any "bitches." Lionel stated that he simply wasn't interested at that moment in time. With that simple statement, Lionel was accused of being of the homosexual influence. Lionel decided to go home.

That evening, before falling asleep, Lionel decided to plan a rendezvous with a female via Craigslist. After sifting through a few ads in the Casual Encounters section Lionel chose one. It read "u must be around my age no older than 24 u must be safe and wear condoms u must live close 2 me this is for one time discreet nsa fantsay i have now thats it one time only send age loc and photos be 4 real." Lionel sent his age, location and photos.

The next morning Lionel received an e-mail informing him of the rendezvous spot. He drove there. Upon his arrival he met a semi-attractive female named Fiona.

"What's your fantasy?" he asked.

She took him to a post in her backyard and tied him up. She sauntered to the other side of the yard and picked up a bow as well as an arrow.

She shot the arrow in his left leg.

2006-12-29T12:42:00.000-08:00

iPlug

2006-12-26T09:48:00.000-08:00

It was called the iPlug. 100 Gigs and only half an inch long. All you had to do was unclip the two plugs and put them in your ears like headphones, but with out the wires, did I mention it was bluetooth too. The device also ran off the heat from your ears and was operated by voice command. It was a hit and sold millions during the 2010 Christmas season. The only problem with it was that people would pull pranks with the voice commands. Say there were 8 people listening to the iPlug on a bus then some kid getting off the bus would yell, "Power off!" and all the iPlugs would shutdown. It was unfortunate, but the second generation would have owner voice recognition and solve that problem.
The three inventors were all alumni from Cal Tech and stayed very close through their success. Katy, second from the left, married a man named Jezariah Canyon Shutz Munyer. He owned and operated a go-kart track called "Thunder Kart" in Santa Clara, just opposite Katy's office. The others weren't sure of Jez's true intentions for marrying Katy, but his sense of humor out weighed their fears. Bill is at the center of the picture and the oldest of trio. He bought a log cabin just outside of Vancouver and married his child hood friend, Gabriel, second from the right. They soon started a baking company together called "Sweetness." The last of three inventors was Andrew, he's on the far right and holding the second generation of the iPlug. Andrew was unable to find true love. Most of his money instead went up his nose and on call girls in the San Jose area. He figured that since most of the girls were going to college, he was actually supporting local education. His addiction got out of hand one day when he was arrested for trying to trade an iPlug for a handjob from a fifteen year-old girl. He bought a great lawyer and got off with only 100 hours of community service. This photo was taken after the hearing.

2006-12-18T00:29:00.000-08:00

John the Revelator

2006-12-18T00:08:00.000-08:00

A man walked out of the rain and into a train station. A worn down Volkswagon key was set to his left. A terquoise umbrella was imploded and set further to his left. His legs were crossed and a red book with a cross on it was placed on his lap.

A female sat across fom him. Purple eyeliner. Large hoop earrings. A lession above her right brow. Cherry lipstick. Butterfly sunglasses.

The lips of the female slowly parted after being overly supplied with saliva from her tongue. "Hi" was silently said.

The male made no movements.

The Butterfly sunglasses quickly flew away from the females eyes. She nodded towards the restroom. "Tweny for tweny," was said slightly louder than her previous statement.

The book on the males lap was opened. He began reading, "Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name thy Kingdom come, thy will be alone on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive those who trespass against us lead us not into temptation-"

-"but delivah us," the female continued, again raising her voice, "from evil for thine is the kingdom and the powa and the glowy foreva and eva."

The male nodded.

"I heard it all befo, Mistah." The female closed her eyes and fell asleep.

2006-12-14T00:18:00.000-08:00

The word Robot originated in Czech.

2006-12-10T13:00:00.000-08:00

It was only a month ago that Adam was captured. He regretted the mistake every waking hour. He could have done this he could have done that. He tried to think about something else, but all thoughts led back to this. A thought would enter his mind then out of boredom and loneliness he would play with the thought until it died. His thought process had been like that since he left the others. He thought freedom and nature would be enough, but he would do anything to be near a human.
"Fuck it. It doesn't matter now." He thought. He knew they were watching him suffer in that dark room, crucified on that iron cross and enjoying all his attempts to break loose from the clamps around his wrists. Every time he started screaming or reeling around, a little red light below the camera lens would turn on. He thought of their mechanical laughter and it just made those situations worse. "Fuck you, you fuck fucking fuckers... Come in here and fight, i'll break you, you cock sucking motherfucking fucks, i'll bite right through you, you..."
That's when the thought entered his mind to chew through his own arms. Compared to his own vomit spread out around him, the shit caked in his pants and the food from the tube running down his throat it seemed like an ingenious idea at the time. His arms had gone numb a few days before and so biting in to his own flesh caused no pain at all. He actually enjoyed the new taste and swallowed a few mouth fulls for energy. Energy for figuring out how to escape his cell. The red light was on the whole time, but nothing came in the room to stop him. He was too driven now to stop and think what they would now do to him.
Five hours later he leaned away from his last arm, the tendons slowly ripping away and fell hard on the cold iron floor. The the front door opened. He couldn't care why and quickly used his face to press away from the floor then started to run. Outside was a corridor and a door at the end of it opened. He was incredibly off balance at first and fell forward while running a few times. There were four more similar corridors until one door opened and sunlight blasted through. When he crossed through the door he heard an eruption behind him, but was too scared to look back. All that lay in front of him were synthetic looking trees and fields of tame grass. He continued to run for more than an hour, all the while hearing jet engines and explosions around him. Then for just one minute all the chaos stopped.
When he came over the final hill and saw the red drone barreling down on him, that's when he realized what this was all about. "Why was it so close? It had to be impressing something. The system. The fucking robots are using me to play against each other. It was a fucking game. How much of it was.." Then before he could continue an explosive stuck his forehead and sprayed what was left of his brains high into the air.

2006-11-30T20:10:00.000-08:00

The Weeping Match

2006-11-30T19:29:00.000-08:00

Eli (also known as DJ Goldfish) was sitting at a table inside Sharkeez Gentleman's Club located in the Czech Republic. He was an American. Eli sat in a lounge with Sony headphones, an 8 gb iPod nano, a black Bic Pen, and a pad of college-ruled paper and scribbled various raps in preporation for his musical performance later that evening. He wore a trench coat.

The latest rap that had been written -

"I pop my colla like a motha-fucka,
right before I shoot you down like a cock-sucka,
and then I turn off the light switch
so I can fuck yo bitch,
before stealing yo money to get rich.
That's how I roll
Like a motha-fucka high on adderol, bitch."

After giving himself what appeared to be a self-congratulatory smile, Eli turned towards the large tank of water featured prominently inside Sharkeez Gentleman's Club. The tank featured many attractive females, all of which were noticed by Eli. One female, however, seemed to be noticed more than the others. She was a mermaid.

Eli made eye contact and motioned for her to come towards him. She did.

"I'm Eli."

The mermaid brushed her hair back, "I'm Kat."

Channeling the legendary energy of Tom Cruise, Eli began hopping up and down, stating, "I love you, let's get married! Let's get married, I love you!"

"Sure," Kat said, "Why not?"

"It'll be great," Eli said, holding Kat's hands. "We can get married in the Czech Republic, we'll have kids, we can move to the bottom of the Ocean- oh, maybe even Atlantis if we can afford it..."

"Wait a second," Kat interrupted, "What do you mean move to the bottom of the ocean?"

"Well you are a mermaid, aren't you?"

"No," Kat turned sideways. Through the glass Eli saw her point to a zipper on the side of her fin. It was fake.

"Oh," Eli opened up his trench coat, revealing a long green fin from his waist down. "Because I am... well, a merman that is. "

2006-11-27T19:21:00.000-08:00

Shady Baby

2006-11-26T11:21:00.000-08:00

Ashley wished she could turn away from the glare of the overcast sky, but the stroller's head brace was always far too strong. She would try to close her eyelids, but the light still burned through, splashing warm pools of orange and red on their surface. The occasional shade of overhanging trees and a stranger's smiling face were much relief and always a cause for celebration. Ashley remembered the new bib and managed to pull it up and over one of her aching eyes. This was enough she thought, half the light was enough. She spotted her mom talking to another woman. The vibrations in her ears and the movement of her mom's lips were too complicated to understand. Instead she dreamt of later that day when they would both lie down together, her mom taking her in her arms and Ashley could finally turn away and bury her face in her mom's soft skin.

2006-11-25T20:16:00.000-08:00

Nobody

2006-11-23T01:39:00.000-08:00

Sometimes one gives up his life as a gigolo, buys a terquoise umbrella, and saunters in the rain. Unfortunately, statues with horns (obviously symbolism for horniness) follows him wherever he goes. The umbrella blocks the view, the wetness, and the feeling for the most part, but it doesn't block the statues from existing. If he could reach up to grab one of them he would. But then what would he do? Would he embrace it, or would he spend the rest of his life picking at it with his Volkswagon key until it vanished like a firework on the 4th of July.

Maybe he just needs to find some other people - people without umbrellas. It might be too late.

*And yes, I was crizunk when I wrote this shit.

The Photo

2006-11-18T12:21:00.000-08:00