she was from another planet.

plainly. probably another time as well. her private parts had a sort of suction going on that was equal parts creepy/wrong and omg/omg.

her name was <3 i said, less than three? she said, i dont make fun of your name, please dont make fun of mine. i agreed and the suction continued. when she kissed me i time traveled in my mind. except i had no control of where i went. because my luck is sometimes rotten, i ended up in the gift shop of the smithsonian in 1989. i wanted to look around the museum, but it was after hours and i didnt have full control of my feet. when we stopped kissing i came back to earth. or wherever it was that i was. i opened my eyes and four of her hands retracted quickly. without moving her head she looked up and to the right and began whistling a carefree tune. we went back to kissing and i time traveled into the very near future. exactly what i was resisting. i tried to pull away from the caress but i phsyically couldnt. it was judgement day. two rows of white men with long white beards and pitchforks sat to the right of me while two rows of black men with long white bears and lightening bolts sat to the left of me. the opening strains of hells bells were being played and two giant feet and legs that reached into the heavens stood in front of me. everything was happening via esp. how dare you!

im so sorry.

why didnt you?

laziness. sloth. igorance. selfishness. fear of success. assholeness. apathy. fear. pride. age.

you will ruin the mix.

i know it.

you never went to church.

it was so dull.

you could have taken over.

i could have?

why do you think you were ordained?

cuz you needed me?

pride! i dont need you.

cuz you wanted me to?

and what do you do when you dont get what you want?

i bitch.

no whiners in heaven.

no!

hasta, fucker.

one of the feet rose. it looked to be made of cement. he wore sandals. a shadow blanketed me, blotting me out of sight.

she pulled away shreiking. i had bitten into one of her tounges.

someone busted through the door on a pale horse and swept <3 away from me as i sat shaking suddenly alone and dreading the inevitable future. broken girl

me and kurt cobain were still in death valley in some sort of pre-heaven state.

i had just had sex with twelve beautiful women, played some of my favorite pinball machines, and had a variety of alcoholic beverages. not bad for a guy who was dead.

super pretty woman wearing a veil was standing in a corner. men and women walked up to her and kissed her. some super long kisses, some just little pecks. some of the women would giggle after they were done kissing. but everyone seemed happy, most of all the woman in the veil.

whats up with her? i asked kurt

she likes to kiss.

everyone likes to kiss.

so go kiss her.

but what about germs?

aint no germs here.

what about, hmmm, what about… morals.

whats morally wrong with kissing? its a nice thing.

yeah, but i dont even know her.

so go talk to her if you want, but she’d rather kiss. in fact she likes it better when you dont talk to her. gives her more of a thrill.

wow, im tempted.

let me ask you something, have you ever flipped off someone while driving on the road, or flamed someone in an email, or shouted at an umpire at a ball game, or wrote a mean letter to a newspaper writer?

of course.

well, those are strangers. you dont know them. and you go and do mean things to them and try to hurt their feelings. dont you think thats morally bad?

but they were mean to me first!

so be nice to her… first.

still i was unsure. hesitant. it seemed too good to be true.

kurt could read my mind. he said,

if you cant handle free kisses next to a salsa bar, how are you going to handle the unlimited love of the creator?

fucker raised a good point.

unless, of course you’d rather kiss him.

kurt pointed at a bearded man standing in a different corner who winked at me.

uh, no thanks.

whats wrong, havent you ever kissed a guy?

i hesitated.

i’d like to take the fifth, kurt cobain.

oh my god, i just realized, you havent taken your Shame Shower yet. those girls didnt give you a shower after your romp?

no, they just all fell asleep in a cute little heap.

go to that great glass elevator over there. go to the fourth floor. then come back down here. i’ll wait for ya.

so i walked over to the elevator. there were many buttons. i pressed four, the doors parted, there was steam everywhere, a woman approached me, bowed, she held out a basket and asked me to disrobe.

i looked around, took the basket, walked into the changing room and put my clothes in the basket, borrowed a white robe and slippers and floated back over to the woman who lead me into a very tall steam room. must have been ten stories tall.

please take your robe off

the voice was pleasant.

suddenly dozens of little baby cherubs could be heard giggling. they were far above me. little tiny cute bellies. completely naked. fat little cheeks, fat little arms, tiny little pee-pees and they began to urinate on me.

it wasnt real pee, ladies. it was baby pee. baby angel shame shower pee. smelled like roses. it was freakilly warm though. it shoulda been called the Trust Shower but i had just banged a dozen women and totally chilled with kurt cobain, so i went with it.

those little kids peed on me for a while and when they were done they flew away and the woman re-introduced herself and had two baskets. one basket had my old clothes, the other had a sweet puma sweat suit. dark green. some gold rope chains, and a pair of pearl white suede pumas with fat laces. there was also a diamond sparkling pimp cane.

i chose the basket with my old clothes.

the woman kissed my cheek and said, “live a little,” which was ironic since i was, well, dead.

so i put down the basket of my old clothes and put on the new suit, and strangely, this time, i changed right in front of her. without even thinking.

and when i was done, i gave her a big wet kiss.

and she gave me one right back.

3rd leg