Sunday, December 30, 2007

I ever tell you I worked in a CARNIVAL, BOY?

Dippin' apples and flossin' sugar.

Learned a valuable lesson behind them tents.

But back in the carnival we used to see all manner of freaks and living human disasters!
This weren't one of your modern carnivals, see.
We're livin' in a dark time, boy.
A time when man is no longer free to cage and display a member of his own species on account of their quarry's appearance.

Ohh, and there were some appearances.

The faces and bodies of those corrupt souls, born from Sin, so determined in their evil that they fought against the Good Lord's attempts to graciously do away with them while still pungently enveloped in their dogfaced mothers' stagnant uteri, had been crusted, warped and variously afflicted. Mangled within and without any chance for redemption, the good souls of the carnival would be their closest approximation to salvation, traveling through town to shanty to hamlet to ville, to snare up and snatch the tumorous children of grotesque inception.
Everyone caged for their safety and ours.


  1. It's actually being ridiculously painstakingly inked with OBSESSIVE HATCHING and other schizophrenetic deTAILs!

    But yes Grandpappy Astor is still alive I just am having difficulty ending the story.