The Black Book Volume III, Part 2: Galts Ark: The Black Symphony: Second Movement

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Even though you are a worthless piece of shit. I get up every morning to a pile of dishes in the sink, a pile of dirty clothes on the floor and several drunken drug addicts lying around on my sofa listening to fucking Patsy Cline. My serenity is down the toilet. Twelve steps! Go to the liquor store for some more vodka. Slurring your way through my life. You wander around like senile walruses looking for beached any- thing.

Who told you you could find any answers whatsoever in a book? Your hubbards are yours. Why take mine? Look out! Step Twelve: You have now come very close to the highest good you can achieve. Rejoice and spend time with those souls that have come close to you in your journey. You could not have done this on your own. But the inner strength you have found will enable you to move further than you ever imagined. You will see stars more clearly and unicorns will nestle in 34 your rose bushes. The storms of life will pass unnoticed through the trees of your life They will bend with the winds of change but stand straight as ever after they have passed.

You have discovered roots as deep as the center of the world. They hold you firm but you are not attached to them. They bring you nourishment but you are not hungry. You envy no other human being for you are yours and yours alone. And in the peace that flows around you, you are completely satisfied and at one. Thank you Turn on the gas for about an hour and light a match. It is sandwiched between the sports page and the coupons and the big fat bellies of swill readers who believe everything they read because it is the newspaper.

It is the sandpaper that scrapes the rectum of the universe and sings nigaboo songs on the jukeboxes of eternity. Burt But the west needs to be won. Collette She is swooning against the piano It is bourbon You fools will never win the west. She is slurring. The Mummy Leave them alone you bitch! I like bourbon myself. And if I want bourbon I will have it! To the bartender Give me a bourbon! The bartender gives him a bourbon and the mummy grabs Collette and presses his dusty rags against her bosom She is repulsed but also amused as Pope John Paul the Second walks into the room and orders The Pope Give me a bourbon you poop!

When you read the times from cover to cover you discover the most wonderful things. And they became sick. But the rulers of the people were wise and decreed that they never drink of the stuff again and they were not changed in their ways but spoke of Patsy Cline and moonlight and noodles.

But the wise ones came to their senses one morning and threw out the stuff and the people were not changed any longer or, for that matter, any shorter. There was one, however, that had learned the secret of the stuff and his name was Wanda. Wanda had been born of baboons and star dust.

It had been a difficult day to say the least. Or at least to say it was difficult. Or difficult bourbon was out of season as he looked at the empty bottle and wondered how he would get through the night without a shot of difficult bourbon. But bourbon was as bourbon does so he went down to the convenience store in his building where he met seven large ethnic people who wanted to kill the shit out of him. The bourbon Ooooooo the times they are a changing For the worse And no matter how much crack we smoke Or how much bourbon we toke Or the joke we joke The shit still clings to our cloak 38 Debbie went to the mailbox to find a very special prize.

Ed McMahon was looking out of a little window in an envelope. He was smiling at Debbie.

He looked happy Little Debbie gently took the envelope from Mr. Mailbox and ran to the house. Unfortunately, she ran over Mr. Rake who gave her a nasty crack on the head. She was only nine years old but wise beyond her age. She knew Jim Beam was a fine product and she knew Jack Daniels was even better. Anyway, good old Ed was telling her that she had just won seven million dollars from his smiling glassine face behind the envelope. So Debbie took the seven million dollars she had just won from the smiling face behind the glassine envelope and bought Russia where she turned the national drink from vodka to bourbon, the national soup from borscht to bourbon and all the water in the Baltic Sea to bourbon.

She was very very happy and she went to sleep for a long time. The cookies smelled like his grandmother. He was just back from a tour of duty in Vietnam and just a little bit on edge.

Did that taste good! He grabbed his M-l and began to spray the house with gunfire.

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Granny and her cookies went flying. The Bourbon Chronicles When we begin to examine the thirteenth step we see that we have come a long way. We have been irritable, perhaps despondent or even loathsome.


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But those close to us have supported us on our long journey. The journey to freedom. We have been to hell and back, my friend, and now the thirteenth step is here. You must apologize for being the asshole you are and have a drink! This is the secret you have been waiting for.

And it sure is not china plates filled with vodka. So you think you have made it? I remember doing this while a Gene Pitney recording played thirteen times and we let it keep going while we talked about a rechecher a la temps perdue and why authors die young. I remember an evening on the beach at Santa Monica sucking three or four dicks You could just make out the vaguest images of other flesh-travelers. They walked up and down and disappeared in twos and threes into a storm drain.

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When the lights of the police-cop motorcade came by everyone separated. Not 1. I had seen him in bars around the area before. His dick was a magnet for my lips! Hvatt, Ph.


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