Showing posts with label trash. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trash. Show all posts

Fish Fashion Rev. J. Sleestaxx

Fish Fashion
Rev. J. Sleestaxx

There are some days I like nothing better to do than to pull a pair of marlins and go for a walk around the neighborhood.
The only trouble with that is that on warm days I can not get farther that a couple blocks before the cats in the neighborhood start to follow me around.
The sea gulls have begun to hover around my house now as they have learned over the past years that I like to wear fish. And they can get free meals from what I throw away.
Fish fashion is not a widely known trend and in fact is has been wrongly dubbed a fetish. Fish fashion is not a fetish but a statement plain and simple. It is a reaction to the killing of land animals for their hides and the killing of plants for their fibers.
Fiber wearing individuals are oblivious to the screaming that can be heard in the fields during harvest. The killing of carbon dioxide scrubbing plants for the sole purpose of making fabric is both insane and barbaric.
I once dated a girl in college that was a bologna wearer. And she was the reason I found wearing alternative clothes was fun.
We had dated for about three weeks when she said she had a secret. I am thinking that she was going to tell me she was a man or that she went to my high school and had a secret crush and now she was going to kill me for ignoring her.
Are you a Satanist??
No sweetie I like to wear bologna.
What??
I like to wear clothes made out of bologna. Mainly dresses and skirts because the bologna tears when you try to wear the lunch meat as pants.
“Undergarments too?” I asked
No that would be weird and kinky.
Yeah and?
Do not make this into something more than it is.
And so I dumped her. Well I just stopped calling and returning her calls. That was too weird for me.
She married a Greek guy whose father owned a deli or a butcher shop or something. They sent an invitation to the wedding. It was made of olive loaf and headcheese. I ate it but did not RSVP.
Then one day down by the docks I was talking to some fishermen and they caught a tuna. It was small and they had their limit and told me to take it.
Now what the hell was I to do with a tuna??
I was on my way home this fish in my arms looking up at me its gills gasping for air/water. Slowly dieing, drowning in air so to speak. I was feeling the texture of the fresh skin and scales and I realized that I had found my medium. What I needed was fresh fish to fashion my clothes out of.
I ran home with that first fish and made my self a tank top. There was not much to work with remember it was a small tuna.
And so started my fish fashion designing and experimenting with fish.
I started with canned fish which was great looking on the table and on the sewing machine, but when you pulled them on pants or shirt the whole thing began to look like punk fashion. A tear here and rip there.
But I soon discovered that I was not to use canned fish like gefelte fish, salmon, sardines, or even kippered herring.
I was to use fresh fish. I began to obsess with fishing. It was the only way to get the freshest fish. Every day I had off I was down at the pier fishing. And then I would rush home with the day’s catch and work feverishly into the night in the frigid house. I would have the air conditioner going full blast trying to keep the fish from decomposing.
Some days I would get the fashion done in time and I would be able to walk the neighborhood in fish and other days the fish would just slump off into a pile of stale rancid fish meat at my feet.
"Good day Reverend" the teens would say as they stopped skateboarding for me to pass, "Those are some mighty fine fish pants you have on." I knew that they too wish they had fish fashion to wear.
Herring bone? That is mine.





Currently reading
Like A Monkey With A Handgun
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 3 December, 2007
Also reading
With A Mouthful Of Razorblades
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 6 February, 2007

American Forces In iRAQ: Making America Safer or Less Safer

Some rants that I started and was interrupted too many times to finish and lost the momentums.



American Forces In iRAQ: Making America Safer or Less Safer

No! And I tell you why.

Humans as a race of animals are just that, animals.

Oh sure we clean up nice and we pretend to have compassion, but when we close our eyes at night we are thinking how can I get what’s mine, how can I get more I need more.

We are inherently evil we make rules to control the competition but the winners are the

Ones that ignore the rules. We have war'ed from the time we crawled out of the sea to just one minute ago. From the zombie soccer moms that cut me off to the leaders of mulit-national corporations playing Pepsi (a dice gambling game popular in high school 5 6 years ago) with the pension fund.

The leaders of the corporate world are all about preparing their retirement. It is not about innovation and focuses on the core business it is about the share holder and share holder value because they are the share holder they care about the most.

It is a club and they are all about taking care them selves and their frat buddies and piss on he rest of the fucking world.

How do I get what is mine and how do I get what is yours with out getting caught.






Currently reading


Like A Monkey With A Handgun
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 3 December, 2007

Damn it!

Damn it! I missed a holiday.
June 3 = Confederate Memorial Day

From Mean Girls

Homeschooled Boy:
And on the third day, God created the Remington bolt-action rifle, so that Man could fight the dinosaurs. And the homosexuals.



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