Slappy Tickler @raeganbutcher - Tumblr Blog

Song by the Stoner Gestapo from their album, We Have Ways of Making You Toke

Disco Of The Damned 1985 : Garret Breedlove, Slappy Tickler, Hector Bombast, Fred Looper : Free Download, Borrow, and Streaming : Internet Archive

#Disco Punk Goth Satire End of the world

Raegan Butcher: The Man Behind the Chupacabra Chronicles

poem

creepy/weird

most of the men

i made friends with

in prison

were murderers

='r�0�*�8

poem

fame & fortune

eleven years after

the publication of

Stone Hotel

and it is gathering

a tiny bit

more notice.

that’s great.

at this rate

it will only

take me 150 more years

to make a living

as a writer.

l��0m��8

jacarterwinward

fugitives from No Secrets

jacarterwinward

guy

he’d hung himself. he left behind kids and two ex-wives and so someone thought it would be a good idea to make a fucking facebook page commemorating him. all of his mormon high school friends wasted no time putting up refrigerator magnet sayings on the page complete with rainbow graphics, pictures of kittens and i thought what the fuck? i joined in the fray and tried to advocate for his left-behind family, his kids, who surely didn’t want to hear banal platitudes about god and heaven- this was grief, godammit– that sinking, black, hollow, lonely, angry, helpless, anguish-place that has no rapport with feel-good sentiments hung up with this week’s grocery list. i got hammered by them all, of course- but the worst hammering came from the children themselves, when they said they actually liked those shallow trite-isms– and it was then my heart hurt for my dead friend even more: his children didn’t truly mourn him. they didn’t know him at all.

From No Secrets

jacarterwinward

resolute

i suppose i’m cynical as well as judgmental. i wanted to go to the gym— hadn’t been in a while, not because i’d not worked out, but because i’d been working out at home and at a private gym with a trainer.

the gym was so crowded there were no parking spaces, let alone treadmills. of course, i thought, it’s the second week of january. see, this is the time when everyone decides to change their lives. all they need is that number to go from 201_ to 201_+1; all they need is for it to be monday. all they need is to wait until after the office party, the holiday, the birthday, the super bowl. these are the people who disappear by march from the gym, so i can go back and run on the treadmill in peace.

true change isn’t a motherfucking new year, day, event, or a round number.when you are ready to change you do it– you don’t wait; and every day you make a choice to continue the path you’ve selected because every single motherfucking day is a new day, a new year, a new event, a moment of truth, a gift. so you can take all of your new year’s resolutions and shove them up your ass. if you wanted to do it, you would have done it already.

From No Secrets

a poem

my imagination i don’t try to ride coattails or search for endorsements from famous people but one time i did give a copy of Stone Hotel to a rock star for whom i have enormous respect i was hoping maybe that he’d read it and be so blown away he’d mention it on Twitter or something and help me get some (much-needed) exposure and sell some fucking books it was a mistake the next time i saw him he said, “i read your book…there’s a lot of darkness in there.” and while he was polite and friendly he was also a bit wary, i think, or maybe it was just my imagination in any case he never mentioned Stone Hotel on Twitter or anywhere else but i want to make it clear this does not change my opinion of him in any way i still think he’s truly one of the greats of this or any other age and the last time i saw him he gave me a hug so maybe it was my imagination, after all