I intend to post content here which is, perhaps, a little too original for some.

I'm not a popular author, but if you like insanity and nothing offends you, then some of this junk might even delight.

As a warning, I'll say that anything posted here is not likely to be any good, and may be vulgar, disgusting, poorly thought out, foul-smelling, and include the "f" word now and then.

I'll begin with a rant I intend to actually email to various friends and acquaintances, just to see if and how any of them respond... And if you actually read it, well, I warned you.


The High Cost of Living

I was purchasing some expired liver for my maggot farm the other day and I simply couldn't help noticing how expensive everything has become. Expired liver used to cost only 29 cents (I distinctly recall grumbling inwardly when it went up from 27 cents) but, this week, it has apparently been marked up another five cents, making the total 34 cents.

This is an outrage. The expired liver has no reason to go up in price, because if I didn't buy it they'd only throw it away. I know because I used to dig it out of their trash before they started putting bleach on it to kill my maggots so I'd buy it in the store instead. How did they know I was feeding it to maggots? Now, not only are they extorting actual cash money out of me for something which should be mine by rights according to the tradition I had established, but they raised it by a whole goddamned nickel! It's not like it's some sort of fancy, organic, vegan liver or anything! It's ordinary liver, from dead baby cows!

Do they want my precious maggots to wind up starving like all those poor Ethiopians in China after they dropped the nukes? Just what sort of foul deviltry are they really playing at, anyway? Is the Church behind it? I wouldn't put it past those Church people. They hate maggots, they always have. Think about it: have you ever heard anyone say anything nice at all about maggots (or even our friends the grave worms) in a Church? I didn't think so. Our flyblown friends have no praise from the pulpits.

I demanded an explanation from the store manager, but he cloaked his true purposes behind a mask of feigned indifference and dismissed my best arguments out of hand, saying only that he'd been forced to raise the price. Forced by whom, I asked. He seemed unable to answer. I called his wife at home and she hung up on me. The school was no help either, they wouldn't even allow me to speak with the store manager's children about it.

Damned good ol' boys' clubs. They probably belong to some secret society.

I posit that there is something far more sinister at work here than some unknown person forcing this man to raise expired liver prices for no good reason. After speaking with two other customers, I discovered that prices have also been raised on sanitary pads and malt liquor. I am beginning to suspect that this has far deeper roots and farther-reaching ramifications than any individual involved in it is aware. They all seem to feel there's no point in fighting it, they're weak in spirit, cowardly. Sissies, the lot of them.

It is perhaps similar in nature to the conspiracy to heat up the earth; everyone's been talking about that, but for the life of me I can't find a good reason for it. Global warming makes no sense, why would anyone want such a thing, let alone participate in it voluntarily? Don't they realize it raises the cost of electricity, having to have the air conditioning on all the time and leave all the refrigerators in the basement open, and then leave all the lights on to try and keep the roaches out of the refrigerators? And the bug lights, because the other lights draw the moths and termites out. It's a vicious cycle, this whole ecological thing. Perhaps we should simply do away with nature altogether, it is so dreadfully inconvenient.

Perhaps it's all part of the same sick pattern of filthy business. First they heat up the earth with their Tesla Wizarding Machines and drive my power bill through the roof (free energy my ass), then they fuck me out of an extra nickel over a package of stinking, discolored liver. There has to be a connection. The seriousness of this situation demands immediate action; we've got to do something about it right now.

I'll follow this story up when I can, but I'm not sure when that will be, as I'm going to be attending Appalachian Dentistry classes soon (as soon as they mail me my info, anyway) and may be somewhat busy with that and the whole cryptotaxidermy/thalidomide followup thing. I really need to shave my legs too, and if you've read any of my autobiographical novels, you know that's a three-day operation, even with a fairly new razor. I blame my mother's side of the family, apparently some of them had hairy legs as well.

Look forward also to news on the rash of mailbox bombings in my neighborhood, they still haven't identified a suspect, so I should be able to get away with a few more of them sometime soon. Once that game's up, we'll finally be able to move on to that serial killing experiment, if we're lucky.

Until then stay cool, and don't pay more than 34 cents for expired liver. If we all hold out on them, they'll have to make a change sooner or later. We can do this!

*gets a snack to read wall of text* =3

I may as well do an About the Author post as well, for those who don't know me this well already...

About the Author:

"Veronica Dark" is the author of over 666 books on a number of subjects, some of which are vaguely coherent, many of which are considered unclean by the world's major religions, and all of which have been rejected by every single publishing house in the world.

Some of her lesser-known works include The Modern Witches' Guide to Home Canning and Boat Repair, The Traveling Bomb Salesman's Guide to Coping With Modern Airport Security, Demonic Posession For The Beginning Enthusiast, It Might Not Be Menstruation, How to Covertly Infiltrate a Lunatic Asylum for Illegal and/or Immoral Purposes and Other Crazy Fun, So You Want To Do Your Own Proctological Examinations, Things Of Which It Is Unlawful To Speak And How to Get Around All That, and, who could ever forget, How to Train Your Cat to Wrestle a Cucumber and 99 Other Rainy Day Activities For Protestant Housewives.

Miss Dark stoically attributes all of her previous failures in publishing to sheer bad luck, and assures the general reading public that eventually she will produce something they might actually like, if she can get her creative genius to make itself that small for any length of time without revolting and committing suicide. It's happened before, looked worse than spaghetti vomit. Be glad you weren't there.

Being genetically based on several strains of evolutionarily augmented/damaged anthropoid apes, Miss Dark has a natural predilection for the ancient, pre-human religions of Sex, Drugs, Rock 'n Roll, Devil Worship and Television just like anyone else, but only when the Stars are in Alignment and the Old Ones are once again near Waking, which, disappointingly, only happens once every few hundred years. Most of the time she simply reads old, trashy novels instead. Sometimes two in one day, because not all of them are tawdry enough to satisfy her insatiable appetite for such lascivious blasphemies against good taste in literature. It's understandable. Not every author can be a V. C. Andrews or a Dennis Wheatley.

She also enjoys camping with an axe, watching roadkill decompose, bowling by herself, blood sacrifices, seeing clowns in danger, eating pies made out of singing (well, screaming, really) blackbirds, long and melancholy walks on the beach in winter and treasure hunting for rare forms of medical waste to add to her rare medical waste collection, durian flavored bubble tea, henbane, women's Olympic gymnastics, imagining herself sharing a friendly cup of tea with sweaty, heavy-breathing women's Olympic gymnasts, and random acts of vandalism disguised as attempted insurance fraud on the part of the innocent, undeserving property owners. In her spare time she sews her own underwear. It is extremely comfortable and doesn't even ride up unless she forces it to.

Veronica Dark currently lives in sin with her kitten and demonic familiar, Pluto. Pluto is a girl and likes stinky cheese. She says to say hi.

---------- Post added 06-16-2014 at 10:55 AM ----------

Oh, and here's a lovely song I've written, which most definitely brings to mind the term "PG13" when I think of it...

"My Farts Will Go On" (Titanic Theme Parody) ((horribly written))
In the style of Celine Dion

Every night in my sleep
I hear them, I feel them,
I wake up and turn my light on

Farting 'cross the blanket
And spaces between it
And the sheets, they're creeping along

Near, far, they're here in my car
I believe that my farts do go on
Once more I open the door
Let some air up in there
But my farts still go on and on

We can fart just one time
Or fart for a lifetime
And never stop farting till we're gone

I can't sleep the night through
I already told you
Every night it always goes on

One, two A.M., I smell poo
Can't believe that my farts still go on
Once more I open the door
Let some air up in there
But my farts still go on and on

You're here, there's one thing I fear,
For I know that my farts still go on
We'll stay forever this way
Never safe from my farts
And my farts will go on and on

I love you. Expired liver, titanic farts and all. Please share more "terrible" things.

Oh dear god, somebody actually reads this shit?

Well, alright then, I'll post more, just not right now...

Please do check back later, and I assure you, there will eventually be more of the same sort of tasteless filth awaiting your feverish eyes and brain, dear reader.

Patience, and it shall be yours! Nobody else would want it anyway!

*crawls forth from bed*

I keep waking up and this won't get out of my head, so for the sake of my last remaining shreds of sanity, I must post it so I can go back to sleep.

Think of it as waking up and needing to pee so badly you stop off and do it in a potted plant in the living room and crawl back to bed.

If I don't do it now, I won't be able to get back to sleep.




On Greyhound
(in the style of David Bowie)
(Underground Parody - Labyrinth Soundtrack)

-------------------------------------

No one can blame you
For walking today
Too much recession, little girl
Leads to depression

Biking's not easy
Your feet always swell
Don't say your feet hurt, little girl
'Cause they'll hurt like hell

But I'm riding on Greyhound
There's always a view
I'm riding on Greyhound
A window seat
The seats are blue, ah, ah, ah

It's only faux leather
Not wrong at all
Next stop's Biloxi
That's on Greyhound
On Greyhound

Driver, driver, get me out of here (I got on a bus today)
Ride, ride on Greyhound (feet'll never hurt again)
Gonna ride it all the way (driver, get me out of here)
My feet'll never hurt again (wanna go on Greyhound)
Driver, driver, get me out of here (wanna go on Greyhound)
Ride, ride on Greyhound (get me on Greyhound)
Sister, sister, please take Greyhound (driver, get us out of here)
Ride, ride on Greyhound (wanna go on Greyhound)
Driver, driver, get us out of here

No one can blame you
For walking today
Too much recession, little girl
Leads to depression

Biking's not easy
Your feet always swell
Don't say your feet hurt, little girl
'Cause they'll hurt like hell

But if you were on Greyhound
I'd ride there with you
I'm riding on Greyhound
It's clean and neat
This seat's for you, ah, ah, ah

It's only
It's only a pleasure
Not blah at all
Last stop's Poughkeepsie
That's on Greyhound
On Greyhound

Driver, driver, get me out of here
I got on a bus today (riding on a bus today)
Feet'll hurt again (yeah, they'll never hurt again)
Driver, driver, get me out of here (driver, get me out of here)
Ride, ride on Greyhound (wanna go on Greyhound)
Sister, sister, please take Greyhound (wanna go on Greyhound)
Ride, ride on Greyhound (get me on Greyhound)
Driver, driver, get me out

Wanna go on Greyhound
Wanna go on Greyhound (on Greyhound)
Wanna go on Greyhound
Wanna go on Greyhound (on Greyhound)
Wanna go on Greyhound
Wanna go on Greyhound (get a seat on Greyhound)
Wanna go on Greyhound (get your butt on Greyhound)
Wanna go on Greyhound (off your feet on Greyhound)

Driver, driver, get me out of here (get me on Greyhound, now get me on Greyhound)
Ride, ride on Greyhound (get me on Greyhound, now get me on Greyhound))
Sister, sister please take Greyhound (now get me on Greyhound)
Ride, ride on Greyhound (get a seat on Greyhound)
Ride, ride on Greyhound (get your butt on Greyhound)
Ride, ride on Greyhound (off your feet on Greyhound)
Driver, driver, get me (I got on a bus today, my feet'll never hurt again)
Driver, driver, get me (gonna ride it all the way, my feet'll never hurt again)

(I got on a bus today, wanna go on Greyhound)
(Gonna ride it all the way, gotta get on Greyhound)

Wanna go on Greyhound (I got on a bus today, wanna go, wanna go on Greyhound) (x3)

Sister, sister, take Greyhound (gonna ride it all the way, wanna go, wanna go on Greyhound) (x2)






*crawls back to her room, passes out on the floor in the hallway*

*points to the above post*
Did I ever tell you that I love you, Vera?

Probably. But it's always nice hearing it again. XD