ADJUNCT CRASH COURSE PODCAST! STARCHBLOOD!

Season One has drawn to a close. Thanks to everyone who has listened! 

Click below to listen to ALL episodes from Season One, as well as Chapter 1 from Frankie Metro's novel, "STARCHBLOOD"

RESPECT! 

CLICK HERE TO LISTEN TO THE PODCAST!

Adjunct Crash Course PODCAST!! LIVE NOW!

Join hosts NEWAMBA FLAMINGO, FKAFM, and Glenn Davis for a new take on human conditioning with topics ranging from sex, drugs, sports, film, serialized radio novels and sociology/psychology. #louisck #axlrose #kingchip #jerrystiller #isolation #airingofgrievances #aew #jakethesnakeroberts #bereal


LICK, CLICK and DOWNLOAD HERE

"Hot Dog Bitch" by Newamba Flamingo

When I was 15, my friend and I ran into this really hot girl on the street. My friend sort of knew her, but I didn't. A couple days later, he called and told me she wanted my phone number. So I gave it to him and he gave it to her.

The girl and I started talking. She lived down the street. Pretty soon we started seeing each other, going over to whomever's house was parent-free.

We'd listen to Cypress Hill, smoke weed out of her tiny glass pipe and then make out and fuck. She had amazing tits and gave the best handjobs and blowjobs ever.

I quickly fell in love w/her. She really was beautiful. Looked sort of like Angelina Jolie. Even though her teeth were kinda rotted from bulimia and she had a pacemaker because of some sort of heart defect, she was still so perfect to me.

However, I wasn't her only admirer. Found out later she'd been w/almost every guy in the greater Miami-Dade area. Same routine, too, smoking weed w/them and fucking.

I was hurt at this revelation. But I was still in love. So I called her and told her I loved her. Told her I wanted her to be my girlfriend. She turned me down, though, saying how she'd just gotten out of a relationship and only wanted to be friends right now.

We saw each other less and less after that. Then I started hearing other things about her. Bad things... Really bad things...

First, someone told me she had HIV, but I didn't believe it.

Then I heard that she'd been at some party and these crackheads she hung out w/ had tied her up in front of everyone, like 50 people, stripped her naked and poured maple syrup over her and licked it off her naked body.

They'd also fucked her with hot dogs, stuck two up her pussy at the same time, and she'd moaned and squirmed and apparently enjoyed the experience.

Shortly thereafter she became known around the city as the “Hot Dog Bitch.”

I'd laughed upon hearing the whole tale and joked about it w/friends. But underneath, behind my smile, it really burned me up, thinking of her on that table, at that party.

I couldn't bring myself to return her phone calls anymore or even say hello when I saw her in the neighborhood, and a little while later she moved to another part of Florida and I never saw or heard from her again.

Until 15 years later, when she found me on Facebook and wanted to be friends. In her request message, she said that through the fog of adolescence and drugs, she couldn't remember why we stopped talking but that she remembered really liking me.

I lied, and told her I couldn't remember why we stopped talking either. I accepted the request and every so often we chat online, usually about politics or traveling.

She's become quite an interesting person now. She lives far away, in the Pacific Northwest, deep in the forest, and has become a wine enthusiast, organic food grower, and vegetarian. She has lots of tattoos, reads tons of books, and is married with two young kids.

But, as much as she's grown and as long ago as those high school days were, whenever I see her profile pic, there’s really only one thing I think about.

*love letter, for the girl in the rift* by: yossarian hunter

can we just this once have it not be about you, just this goddamned once can it not be about you, can it not be about, can it not ,can it be about letting me sleep lengthwise just one goddamn time is that too much to ask it’s been four years & some change since I lost you in that maze…

there is one, I think she’s Marla’s daughter all grown. I have nothing to base this on, there is no science none of that matters with my little bubble girl at my side, whispering answers to questions I’ve yet to voice …

when finally I thought to, I asked her “is there anything I should be asking you” & I don’t know if she’s Marla’s daughter or just something that smells like you but I know she loves me, you can bank on that,I can tell by the way she kissed the air right next to my cheek as she floated over to perch in the place where my lap would normally be…

but there’s one named Bram there’s always Bram stay away Bram I saw what you did last night & she’s not mine but she could be for a minute & oh why’d you do that Bram why oh why oh why oh holymotherjesusfuck why the fuck did you do that?..

a finger that wasn’t a finger but some sort of needle shiny and a killer of shiny things a not for shooting drugs or sewing stars into flags needle but just perfect if perfect is the word it was just fucking perfect for sticking in my bubble girl’s lovely iridescent head & he killed her before she could speak of the things that needed asking that rotten goddamn vampire left her a giant deflated mess in my lap my misplaced lap where all she ever wanted was to sit & answer me questions I never thought to ask & I was already mad at him for the previous night’s episode in which he ate my geometry so I poked him in the chest snarling

”I saw what you did motherfucker, ain’t you got some off to fuck” & oddly enough he did yep he fucked right off I only wish he hadn’t turned out the lights before he did. it’s been damn near five years sleeping diagonal & I just wanted to get lengthwise for a night maybe two…

can we just once, just goddamned once, let this not be about you?..

Meth Lab Radio Show (featuring Willie Nelson from Glasgow)

Listen to internet radio with frankie metro on Blog Talk Radio