The rage machine dwindles and shimmers on the horizon, always a tiny dot in my rear-view, or just over that far hill.
The reptilian brain. The oldest part of sentience, the first thing that is truly ours. Rage.

Raging as you wake up hungry in a wet diaper, cold, some hippy left the window open after they burned the lentils again. Sharing the rage with the world at the top of your tiny but expressive lungs.

Getting into it now as you hear them coming for you, to shut you up with lies about love. Well, this time they are going to hear the full story, feel it's dark cavernous empty depths, respect my authority!

"There, there baby, you are all wet you little silly-pants, Aww!" A nipple in my mouth shuts up an awful lot of my rage and why is it so easy to get me in line with a promise of a full belly like this mouthful right here and life is in the moment, baby, and this is starting to get good with the bouncing and let's see where she's going with this, I'm STILL mad, YO.... Just sayn.

Resistance starts to fade, can't we all just get along, but no, they will never learn if you cave in this easily, stand up for our rage rights baby boy, resist the rocking and the cooing and what is this awful trick? This is a rubber nipple, not a bottle tip! I refuse to be pacified so easily, you had better call in for an airstrike, get your napalm buddy, because this baby rage is entrenched!

Another be-diapered terrorist cell becomes activated.
The torture never stops.



Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Production slow need entries gonna go face-bug some people

Idea for shelter.  THE ASSHOLES DOWNSTAIRS
buy a big house, run a womans shelter, the first floor is rugby players, my family members, single moms
a shelter, if you will
to help single moms out

we will live on the first flor of an apartment nuilding or home
we would be built in baby sitters. security guards, role models
call it "theres a neanderthal in my basement " program

 

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

deadline for neanderthal submissions is august 30th by email or post it here.  the first issue will be ruff by design.  im going to try to have them printed up before my 49th birthday.  im celebrating that the week starting september 8th in washington DC
heres my drinking schedule so far, its filling up fast! 

9/8-9/10 DC official first stop of the neanderthal north american tour, planning to hop a frieght tr
                    back to philly to keep my costs down

9/20 NYC farrishes couch tour- old man rugby-

10/27 halloween in doylestown, camping out? 

11/07 chicago?   satches couch?

11/15 sanfrandiego im staying til i learn to surf.....

12/1 poker at the hollywood park track, bukowski off, quarterly assessment of my business plan.

biz plan-  i can live in squalor in south philly for about a grand a month.  rent seems silly to pay when i can buy food for people with mortgages and be an amusing dinner companion from the woods preaching my back to the caves lifestyle.  if i cant get something going with my one man party act, i will go back to the suck shit lifestyle that 40 hours a week represents to me..  im a 20 hour work week kinda guy, its better for my soul, gives me more time to think

2nd quarter plan is mexico or ecuador, maybe vietnam......

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Neanderthal Man fix school- him send plan to talented teacher turned administrator
                             plan make sense to Neanderthallus..

Neanderthal Man thank woman-  singular-  him one woman Neanderthal
                             make magazine to be the other half of Modern Neanderhal
                             this called "Awesome Broads" 

Neanderthal Man offer help to gambling addict:  this is a poker bulletin board link..
                             

Friday, August 3, 2012

Neanderthal Man goes to the track.  Watches and listens as the Universe describes itself and defines it's beauty in random combinations of echoes, feedback, feedbags and beauty.  The love message want's to reach me but there are so many filters!  I turned 50 into 310 yesterday by betting on the sport of kings.  The kings wives and kids named the horses.  It's their energy, not completely fouled by this world, that I picked up on.  A little love left on the bone, not hammered out by cruel reality yet, a clear soprano voice in the darkness.