Saturday, September 20, 2008

666

yes! i lost your previous comments! thank you blogger! thank you so very much!
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I've been trying to put this off for as long as possible but the truth is out there, clawing big holes in the screen door, plus it crapped out next to the back step and then walked in it and now its tracking it all over the place. Someone please go get a rag and turn the hose on and wash off the Truth before it comes in and tracks crap all over the rug, OK?

Many of you have written in asking "Why is it that you never visit the UK like you used to?" and "Why do my underpants feel all funny after I dry them with synthetics?" And to this I have one answer:
BEAST.


BEAST IS THE REASON.

It started many many years ago, back when Ronald Reagan was just a schoolboy parading around in his mothers bra and panties in the bathroom mirror while his uncle with the funny accent watched through the keyhole. Back in those days the rules were different. People were different.
Babies were different too.


"...congratulations, mrs. bournemouth! it's a....little... strange...thing!"


Some hinted darkly that his mother had been scared by an unknown assailant while she was out taking a pregnant, naked romp through the underbrush one day and that her offspring had somehow been marked by this trauma.

Everyone knows that's bullshit of course but its what people said and I'm not going to argue with them. Some people pointed a finger of blame at Winston Churchill. I like to blame things on Winston Churchill too. Winston Churchill would totally fuck with you. He'd do shit like unscrew the cap on the salt shakers and people would be like "Aw Jesus, Winston, don't be such a douche" but he'd just laugh.

The Beasts' early years are shrouded in mystery. Only this picture remains
...lady of spain i adooooooooooore you

...relic of a time when the Beasts parents had tried to foster a love of music in their growing boys' breast, despite the fact that it kept getting pinched in the bellows.

Back when I was making regular visits to the UK (or as we liked to call it back then "The UK") as a member of Led Zeppelin, we often found ourselves playing venues out in the trackless wastes of the English high desert...our only light the smouldering gypsy campfires; our only audience the smouldering Gypsies. It was a simpler time... a time when a middle-aged woman could lie about being a member of one of rock and rolls' most popular power groups and get away with it. I was happy as their lead singer. Happy save for one thing....

The BEAST.

Somewhere in the darkness you could hear him. Breathing. Panting. Lusting after the taste of rock and roll flesh and entrails and guts and hair and stuff.

In the mornings you would find the print of his huge...print....waiting for you just outside, like a hideous 'Get Well' card signed by a disturbed stranger in a public restroom.

"...and the mark of the beast shall be upon the hand and the forehead of those whosoever follow him, and upon the canvas lawn furniture of them also shall that mark be found" REV 5:33


He was out there.
Waiting.
Watching.
MAKING PRINTS.

For years we remained one step ahead of him, like some maniac game of Cribbage with life and death as the stakes, until Robert Plant would put one of the little marker dealies in his mouth and everyone would go "Oh Jesus Bob get that out of your mouth; are you six?" and he'd sulk, and nobody could remember what the score was.

THE BEAST KNEW.


...he does, too.

One fateful night he executed his fell masterstroke! In one savage moment reeking of blood and panic he leapt upon the prostate form of John Paul Jones and shredded his mortal coil, festooning his still-quivering flesh like icky bloody shredded stuff across the panicked landscapes of our shocked and shreiking brains!!!!! "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" went our brains. Just like that!
...prostate form of john paul jones, enlarged*

We fled, we knew not where, deep into the dark blackness of the black British night.

AND THE BEAST LAUGHED!


Tune in next week for the further adventures of The Beast of Bournemouth! WHY? Because if I don't hit 'publish' this won't save for some demented reason! So yeah! Do that!





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* oh come on that's funny. get it? get it? enlarged? and its a picture of an enlarged prostate? because prostate sounds like prostrate, and

yeah.

16 comments:

  1. IT'S ALL TRUE!

    ReplyDelete
  2. HURRAH
    Fame at last
    Its all true
    ALL OF IT


    ps . The prostate/prastrate joke was very funny , I almost crapped my pants
    Honest :-)

    ReplyDelete
  3. Oh, and FIRST!

    Take THAT, Beast!

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  4. the truth is finally revealed. i'm so happy for beast.

    cute baby picture, beasty.

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  5. I am horrified , by the nightmare with all the rings and the bottle of champagne.
    That is just gruesome

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  6. CHRIST ALMIGHTY.

    You mean Ron Jeremy wasn't always fat?

    I like the baby.

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  7. MJ: well we know, my darling. the horror. THE HORROR.

    beast: of course you did. you crap wherever you like. you are a BEAST. unhousebroken and freeeeeeeeeeeee!

    mj: yes yes yes.

    pink: looks like it would leap on your face and lay eggs down your esophagus, doesn't it?

    beast: that, my love, is ron jeremy in his advanced age...still making porn, still adorned with an appendage the same size and approximate shape of a can of Red Bull. except it isn't metal and doesn't say 'red bull' on the side. most likely it says 'fat guido attached' or something like that. nonetheless! beastly!

    gse!: hey chickie! no, he wasn't always fat, but he always looked like a creepy pervert, didn't he? a creepy, hairy pervert. with three legs.

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  8. I think my lost comment had summat to do with Beast and Alastair Crowley being separate but the same manifestation of Beelzebub.

    Jimmy Pages underpants and pentangles were also mentioned,

    ReplyDelete
  9. Nonsense comment:

    Years ago I was a transcriptionist at St. Alphonsus Regional Medical Center in Boise, Idaho. One of the radiology transcriptionists was reviewing reports and started laughing hysterically. She showed us a report that had the word "prosthetic" crossed out. The radiologist had hand written, "while there is no such thing as a prosthetic for the prostate, please correct prosthetic to prostatic". Um, it's a medical joke and not a bad one considering.

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  10. man, Beast was a cute baby. Is that his mum there with Winston Churchill?

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  11. I went to Bournemouth once. It is exactly like your pictures say it is.

    Oh yes.

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  12. FN you absofuckinglootly crack me the hell up...just when i am not expecting it you hit...i loved it...
    btw i haven't been on the other site recently because...well...um...i need additional time when i read that...and...um...yeah...you know!

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  13. Your Firstness - wonderful brilliant post. Hurray for The Beast. My granny lived in Bournemouth - all I can remember is the swish of her nylon elasticated waist slacks and the clickety clack of false teeth in a glass in the bathroom. Muchos bungalowville. Please tell me that weird munterfamily around the organ aren't real? xxx

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  14. I have an idea for a new TV show..Ron Jeremy will be locked in a room with Gov. Palin, with only a bag of magic shrooms and Tequila
    ..now that's entertainment!!

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  15. garfy: jimmy pages underpants were full of the devil. or something. this assumes the devil is shaped like a rather large keilbasa. i know it made me want to say a prayer.

    retro: the one in my picture looks lkind of prosthetic. hell, the one in that picture looks like a water balloon full of Quaker Puffed Oats. maybe i should file a patent!!! the first replacement prostate! I could name it 'Ted'.

    SSA: no, it is a picture culled from the book "Savior of a Nation-Churchill and Britain". it shows a young Winston as he was before politics and macrame came to rule his life, roaming the high desert plains of the UK at large in a rubber Frankenstein mask and threatening naked women.

    billy: hey youse! did you take pictures? you should have. you realize that now, don't you. i never remember to bring my camera either. yeah, well.

    daisy: excuses excuses. your hand got tired, huh.

    rocky: hey chickie! oh yes. they are real, and they are FRONSH COONAYJYENNNN. thats 'French Canadian' to normal people. who avoid them as a general rule. they have accordians.

    coppens: they tried that in Surreal Life with Tammy Faye Baker. I am totally serious. Poor bitch didn't realize what she was missing. yeah, shed have spoken to God...!

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  16. FN...my hand did not tire...just spent too much time rereading and...well...then...

    ReplyDelete