One night when I was real sick, I went with my sister down to the ‘lower east side’ of the Big Ape to go to this weird performance art thing run by that renegade Matt Courtney. It was called abc el no rio or something like that. Everyone there was homeless, and there was no heat in this place, but they didn’t seem to know any different, so I just pretended like I was interested in what they was saying. I was wearing my red Elmer Fudd jacket that I’m not allowed to wear in Mother, a Gothic bar. Anyhow, these are some of the things I saw.

The first thing was some guy projecting a movie onto his stomach. He stripped down to his bare chest, and I thought he must have been nuts, because it was fucking cold even inside the building. I couldn’t even see what it was all about, since I was off to the side, cut off from view, but it must’ve been good since everyone else was ooing and aahing.

Second was some guy who read about playing in a rock and roll band over in Champaign Illinois, where I used to live. I guess he thought that we’d be real impressed that groupies liked that kind of simple minded music or something. I think he got drunk, rode around with a bunch of other guys who stank, drinking beer, passing out finally, only to wake up in Indianapolis in a graveyard. Anyway, he was kind of conceited, since when I tried to initiate a polite conversation with him, all I got back was a glare.

Some Indian woman told about these two guys who wouldn’t fuck her, because it was New Year’s Eve and one of them was asleep, while the other was gone. She was waiting for Jesus to come so that she could wake the sleeping guy up and get a piece of ass.

A bunch of people read poems with words like fuck and cocksucker in them, and I wasn’t too awfully impressed with any of that, since I really can’t remember it. Some other woman reacted to that by getting up there and reading about the first time someone ever buggered her in the ass, how the kundalini snake rose within her and she saw stars. Later on, people got AIDS, so what happened is that no one would ever put it in her ass anymore, but she always remembered how good it felt.

During this whole evening I was shivering, and had to take a piss. Matthew kept saying we were going to take a break, but he never did let us, so I never got to piss until later on. Other people across the room were drinking whiskey, waiting until the whole affair was over so they could go to a bar, drink more, and then pair off to go screw each other.

I remember one guy who got up there making weird sounds with his mouth. Everyone else seemed to understand what it was about, so I pretended I wasn’t very confused. Another fellow read poems in another language, so that we wouldn’t know how bad the poems were. Someone else said you cocksucking fucker-headed shit, you fucking cocksucker... I think he was talking about the mayor.

Some other guy got up there and sang a song while someone else played the flute. They were singing about the world trade organization riot, and also about protesting something in New York City. He was proud of his glasses that were in a case on the wall.

Well, I finally had about all I could take, so I got my sister to take me home, where I shivered all the way to the subway. I was so taken in by this experience, that I decided to write it all down, translate it into different languages, and then the next time they do this, to read it to them. Maybe they’ll think I’m some great inspired genius or something, but really, I’m simply amusing myself. But if you think this is funny or even if you’re offended, I don’t really give a rip, so screw all you fart-sniffing peckerheaded white lily-livered coon-dog licking sophisticates.