RIP Gary Coleman And Dennis Hopper

Two giants of the entertainment industry have died. OK, one giant and a little 42 year old man-boy.

Dennis Hopper was in probably the best of the early counter-culture films of the 60's "Easy Rider". William F. Buckley once asked a friend why he didn't care for the film, saying, "after all, it had a happy ending".

Hopper died of cancer just minutes ago in Variety. His style and stern continence will be remembered for all time, if the world ends tomorrow. He was, in fact, a fine actor, of individualistic skill and talent.

Gary Coleman was just funny. "What you talkin' about Willis" was one of tv's staple funny lines in the 80's. His parents, reportedly stole all of his money, and made him a bitter old man before his time. His wife was by his side, with a drink on his head at the time of his passing.

Gary, we hardly knew ye'.

Joe

A New Post

Christians throughout my sector here in downtown Norfolk have been spitting on my front porch (where I keep the extra toilet) and demanding that I post anew to my blog. The reason I haven't been posting as much as of late is my stomach hurt. And so Mom let me stay home from school. And when she was out shopping I hopped downstairs naked and free of all shame to gather up my lunch bucket of peenut butter sandwiches, cottage cheese ala' pocket (with egg matzo), ice milk, some Tabs, and Mom's dirty book "Valley Of The Dolls". I grabbed a paper bag and took it all up stairs where I could eat, watch American Bandstand, sleep, and make myself blind, all before God.

So there it is. Someone once told me that when you don't know what to do, the thing to do is get out of town. So I took a walk to East Norfolk yesterday to try out the gambling casino and whore house. I think I like the whore house better because, well, because they got whores there. It's not like the casino where you play your cards and take your chances. With the gals (Gad! I hope they were girls. I did everything the right way, so what else could they have been? But it was dark in there. And even darker way way in there. So if any of you hermaphrodites reading this right now remember a Jewish man with a nice butt and peenut butter stains on his hands, for God's sake please keep anything you might know about me to yourself). But it had to be a gal. I may be blind (onanism, forgive me) but I know a thing or two about a thing or two. And I think by the third go round I would have known if you were anything but 100% fleshy female.

Which brings me to my ninth topic of the evening, mincemeat pie. I realize that the government is getting all agitated and in a Cold Cold Sweat over this "don't ask don't tell business". As well they should. Back up to the pies. Homosexuals in the 19th century were kept out of polite society, so to slide into the 400 in Mrs. Asstor's ballroom (which the gays had all the wrong ideas about, but that's their problem) they formed the " Polite Pie Society" which would crank juicy fruit pies made by fruits themselves (they did not object to this term at the time). But what is the first thing they do? One of the "boys" had an idea for a "mincemeat pie" which would reflect the political and personal habits of the group. Up until then all pies had been filled with fruit. But what if they had a pie filled with meat (only God knows where they got the meat) and minced up and down Broadway, yelling, "get our big meat pies, ladies...watch us walk, we're just like you"). This of course was before we're here and we're queer movement of the 80's.

It didn't take. Not only were mincemeat pies banned in all 50 states, but the President of the United States himself, Grover Cleveland said in 1894 "This perverted movement of some in our society to gain acceptance by walking like girls to sell pies filled with who knows what kind of meat is unAmerican". And so went the Mincemeat Pie and those behind it. It would be years before our oppressed brothers would be able to have dirty meetings in the park.

And so it goes.

Joe

Selling Apples

Because of the financial crisis, I am now selling juicy red delicious apples, just outside my pay toilets at the corner of Church and Nebraska Streets in downtown Norfolk.

I see this as a temporary thing to supplement my income because more people are peeing and shitting behind those big garbage cans at the 7/11, and into paper bags and then wildly throwing them into the public square for the birds (they eat that stuff..can you believe it?).

My main income comes from the toilet base of my empire and with more people cheating and loosening their bowels, and pee pipes for free, and forgetting their responsibility to our fellow citizens to keep a clean city, I have to sell these here apples.

The big juicy ones that I wash in the toilet (after flushing of course...what do you think I am, some kind of criminal or perv?) are 5 cents. The smaller, mid-sized apples, about the size of a nice ladies bosom are 3 cents, and the lowest cost apples, which are made from shit, pee pee, and apples juice, then rolled into a ball to look like an apple are only 1 cent. They are that tasty (I tasted them) and they taste somewhat like chicken filled with shit. However, for a penny, what do you want? I do not control the apple market in this sector of Virginia, therefore, I have to compete in the marketplace. I am being very honest with you, naturally.

I am also considering adding lemonade to my apple cart. But I don't know if I can afford the real stuff. So it may be made from other things.

I blame the government.

Joey Postove