Click HERE if your browser does not redirect. De Sins uh Jesus



...HE WAS AN INTERNET WHORE...





I. Prelude



Here at wo'k at night it's lonely.  Slap mah fro!  Fry mah hide! ah's dinkin' uh all uh ya' an' whut 

ya' gots'ta be hangin'. Probably sleepin'. Sometimes ah' does dat too.  'S coo', bro. When no 

one's lookin' ah' put mah' face aginst da dadburn pink linoleum t'drool an' 

dream, dawgone it.  WORD!  Fry mah hide! It's de only way t'git drough it all, ah reckon. Wid no real point uh 

existin', it's hard not t'become unfocused on mah' goal, ah reckon. Pussy.  Slap mah fro!  Fry mah hide! Mah' dojigger 

is Jed an' ah' is an Internet who'e. 





II. Billy Joe & Cady & sometimes Alvin but neva' Ernie



ah wo'k wid some dude dojiggerd Billy Joe. Yo's probably knows fif'y 'Billy Joes'. He's 

anoda' one. He tells sto'ies. Dey're funny.  Slap mah fro!  Fry mah hide! Right now he's sno'in'. 

Aroun' 2 a.  WORD!  Fry mah hide!m, dawgone it.  WORD!  Fry mah hide! he wakes down an' goes on about changin' jobs so's he kin

feel likes he's hangin' sump'n wid his life. Den he goes back t'sleep.  Jes hang loose, brud, cuss it all t' tarnation. 

Cady spins back an' fo'd in ha' chair. She says she's asleep too but 

ha' eyes is open, as enny fool kin plainly see.  'S coo', bro. Is she lyin'? ah' only see Alvin one night some week.  Shet mah mouth!  Ya' know? He 

hates it hyar. He comes in an' usually falls asleep fine quickly, 

which be baaaad cuz' we's afraid he mightwaste us all eff'n he wuz 

awake. Ernie used t'come in but he's been missin' now fo' some week an' 

it's downsettin' cuz' ah loaned him some cassette.

 



III. 443 Bunka' Hill (an' duzn't fo'git 88 Baldwin!  Fry mah hide!  Right on!  Fry mah hide!)



ah's hyar cuz' mah wheels got wasted an' ah' c'dn't corntinue delivahin' de 

Boston Globe 7 days some week t'yo' doo'step o' in yo' doo' enny fuckin'

longer.  Ah be baaad, cuss it all t' tarnation... Oh.  Lop some boogie...wait.  Man!  Fry mah hide!..dat's not whut happened, cuss it all t' tarnation. Now ah' remember.  Ah be baaad, cuss it all t' tarnation... ah' gots so's 

drunk one Saturday night dat ah' c'dn't hoof it in Sunday t'do mah' job.  Well bust mah britches an' call me streaker.  Co' got d' beat!  Fry mah hide!

Den mah' wheels got wasted, cuss it all t' tarnation. Den ah' came hyar. ah' make mo'e bre'd an' gots less stress. 

Dank ya' Bo-Jangles Beam!  Fry mah hide!  Right on!  Fry mah hide!





IV. Honky pigs, Framppon an' Medical Emerjuncy Elton John-Boy



We's supposed t'git rap rod calls. We duzn't. Sometimes I'll plum walk 

aroun' wonnerin' eff'n it's impo'tant dat ah's out walkin' aroun' an' not 

back sittin' waaay down, as enny fool kin plainly see. ah' haf some lot uh info'mashun ah' duzn't need cuz' ah 

duzn't use it.  Man!  Fry mah hide! Ev'ry now an' den ah' git down an' push some button dat places

a tess call, ah reckon. ah' duzn't even dig dat call cuz' I've been down pushin'

de button, as enny fool kin plainly see.  'S coo', bro. Billy Joe o' Cady digs it.  Man!  Fry mah hide! Sometimes Alvin duz. Neva' Ernie. Billy Joe 

likess t'joke aroun' at dat point.  Man!  Fry mah hide! Cady duzn't joke. Sometimes Alvin

duz. Ernie used to.  'S coo', bro. De only dooPaw dat saves me be de Internet.  Man!  Fry mah hide! Eff'n I

eva' come t'wo'k an' da dadburn Internet access be lop off, I'll hoof it crib.  Well bust mah britches an' call me streaker. ah's

addicked, cuss it all t' tarnation.





V. Brin' on de Bitches



ah started honkyfoolin' aroun' wid Internet about 6 monds ago.  'S coo', bro. It began 

slowly but quickly gots out uh corntrol, ah reckon. Fest ah' gots email, ah reckon. ah' wrote mah' 

homey Maria who ah' real be hankerin''ed t'have sex wid, cuss it all t' tarnation. When it became clear

dat it wuzn't goin' t'happen ah' switched t'de online sucka'al ads. 

Dey had allus disgested me but ah' foun' in mah' ho'ny bo'edom dat ah' 

c'd compromise mah' stan'ards. Responses began t'flow likes de mighty 

Nile. Soon ah' wuz not only chattin' wid dem but meetin' dem, dawgone it.  WORD!  Fry mah hide! Babette 

wuz de fest. She sucked, cuss it all t' tarnation. She wuz angry.  Slap mah fro!  Fry mah hide! Tina wuz de second, cuss it all t' tarnation. She

drove waaay down fum Kinada an' we met at some Mobil stashun at 5:30 in de mo'nin'.

ah 'espuh'ienced some sho't dry spell until de fest week uh Decemba' when ah' 

struck it rich.  Lop some boogie. Ha' dojigger be Kira.  WORD!  Fry mah hide! We began havin' an affair.  Ah be baaad, cuss it all t' tarnation... She's some 

twenty-seven year old bisexual, ah reckon. We fucked fo' 4 days straight an' on de last day an amazin' dooPaw happened, cuss it all t' tarnation. 

Anoda' honky chick called me who ah' had been chattin' wid, cuss it all t' tarnation. Lisa be an 

eighteen-year-old German au pair.  Ah be baaad, cuss it all t' tarnation... Dat Friday, af'a' fuckin' Kira 12 

hours earlier, ah' fucked Lisa.  WORD!  Fry mah hide! It wuz cornfusin'. Who's pussy wuz mah' 

han' in? ah' felt funny.  Slap mah fro!  Fry mah hide! Had ah' finally completed some projeck ah' had set out 

to do? ah' is Spartacus!  Right on!  Fry mah hide! 





VI. Epilogue (Larn de smart kids dat it's coo' t'be stoopid!  Fry mah hide!  Right on!  Fry mah hide!)



Mah' advice t'de next junerashun be simply t''Foller yo' Dreams'. In 

farm dey tell ya' lies. Yo's only need basic mad as a weasel in a blender an' some li'l 

readin'. ah's some success. Right now dere's some CEO uh a Fo'tune 500

compenny who dun didn't dig some blowjob yessuhterday.  Slap mah fro!  Fry mah hide! Dis may not last an' ah' duzn't care.

It's happened, cuss it all t' tarnation. I've done it.  Man!  Fry mah hide! I've finally made sump'n uh mahse'f. 

Dank ya' t'ev'ryone who made it postible. Yo's knows who ya' are. An'

to Ernie, mosey on down crib soon, as enny fool kin plainly see.  'S coo', bro. We's wo'ried, cuss it all t' tarnation. ah' mean, as enny fool kin plainly see.  'S coo', bro...I's gots'ta be. Ev'ryone else be 

asleep.  Jes hang loose, brud, cuss it all t' tarnation. 







De follerin' be a dramatizashun uh whut mah' current job be likes:



LATE NIGHT IN A CALL CENTER

A Play in One Ack by Jedtopha' O'Hare



Chareeckers, dig dis:

Billy Joe Gard

Jed O'Hare

Cady Do'ito



De lights mosey on down up on an aban'oned call center.  Ah be baaad, cuss it all t' tarnation... It be cold an' brown, as enny fool kin plainly see.  'S coo', bro.

Cady sits in some chair spinnin'. Jed be stretched out acrost two

chairs. Billy Joe be slumped on over, painfully strugglin' t'stay alert.  Man!  Fry mah hide! Dey

all ha'f wears deir inackive haidsets.



Billy Joe suddenly stirs an' raises his haid t'rap.



Billy Joe, dig dis: We is but snails on an indless betch waitin' t'be cappured by

de chillun uh summa' an' placed in deir beginna'ish aquariums.



Jed wakes down an' looks at Billy Joe



Jed, dig dis: Yeah dude Gard!  Fry mah hide!  Right on!  Fry mah hide! Snails!  Right on!  Fry mah hide!



Billy Joe, dig dis: ah' wonda' sometimes whut dooPaws'd be likes today eff'n God had lit

de fire he sh'd gots unda' our lazy as a houn'dog cestoma' service asses. 



Jed, dig dis: Hmmm, dawgone it.  WORD!  Fry mah hide! ah' is concerned about dat but whut uh mah bitches? Who

cries fo' dem? Who saves deir virginal vaginas fum mah' evil an'

twisted libido?



Billy Joe, dig dis: Agin wid de who'es!  Right on!  Fry mah hide! ah's sick uh it!  Fry mah hide!  Right on!  Fry mah hide! Whut uh de future? Whut

of love?



Cady rolls ha' eyes



Jed, dig dis: Billy Joe, mah' homey, we only live fo' today an' gots'ta as Robin

Billy Joes said so's apply in de Liva' Lips Weir film 'Wasted Poet's Society',

Seize da dadburn day!  Fry mah hide!  Right on!  Fry mah hide!



Billy Joe, dig dis: Carpe Diem!  Fry mah hide!  Right on!  Fry mah hide!



Jed, dig dis: Dis be not about fish Billy Joe!  Fry mah hide!  Right on!  Fry mah hide! It's about meat.  Man!  Fry mah hide! How we is but

meat in de grinda' of life waitin' t'be

ett up by de fuckin' MAN!  Fry mah hide!  Right on!  Fry mah hide!



Billy Joe, dig dis: Yeah man, ah' agree. Soon dat joker shall arrive once mo'e in his Lexus

o' Volvo o' Buick o' whut gots ya' an' in his brother sueyt an' yeller

powa' tie stare at us in dis fish bowl likes...likes fish.  Lop some boogie...likes fish

Jed!  Fry mah hide!  Right on!  Fry mah hide!

Not meat ya' pseudo Isaac Bowie but FISH!  Fry mah hide!  Right on!  Fry mah hide! God dadburned fish!  Fry mah hide!  Right on!  Fry mah hide!



Jed hangs his haid in shame



Jed, dig dis: But den, eff'n ah' is some fish.  Lop some boogie...whar be mah farm Billy Joe? Whar be mah

farm?



Cady spins in ha' chair back an' fo'd





De follerin' wuz writ durin' some baaaad week.  Shet mah mouth!  Ya' know? ah' likesd it inough dough

to post it.  Man!  Fry mah hide! Duzn't eyeball it eff'n yo'se in some baaaad mood, cuss it all t' tarnation.



JIM



Mah' life be an isolatin' 'espuh'ience. ah' wuz bo'n alone an' I'll die

alone. Mah' acshuns is rhydmic an' mah' rhydms is circular.  Ah be baaad, cuss it all t' tarnation... 

ah endlessly revolve in de grayess uh spaces.



ah's unable t'best free fum moshun, as enny fool kin plainly see. ah' choose t'go numb instead uh 

allerin' de inevitable insanity t'occur.  Ah be baaad, cuss it all t' tarnation... Ev'ryday it lays do'mant an'

is only kep' dat way by mah' cornstant se'f-abuse tackics. No solushun to

dis be eva' felt t'be necessary cuz' it be predestined dat da dadburn solushun

be daid. So's ah wait fo' it daily.  Slap mah fro!  Fry mah hide!



Eff'n dey foun' me now whut'd dey say? Surroun'ed by jars uh urine

an' garbage bags uh po'n o' de scattered, fo'gotsten artwo'k.  Shet mah mouth!  Ya' know? Whut'd

dey tell de ones who claimed t'real knows me? W'd dey knows den how

alone we all is in de wo'ld o' whut it means t'be nodin'? W'd dey

finally ketch me in some lie?



ah allus imagined mah' funeral t'be filled wid sucka's all fo'ced to

lissen t'mah beat fo' hours. One af'a' anoder, beat by beat'd play an' 

ev'ryone'd be strugglin' plum t'stay seated, cuss it all t' tarnation. Af'erwards, dere

w'd be some dinna' an' some boogeyin' into de mo'nin'. When it wuz upside dey'd

fo'git whuffo' dey came but not dat dey dun did, cuss it all t' tarnation. ah''d be nodin',

finally.  Slap mah fro!  Fry mah hide!



In de ind it digs ya'. Yo' bess homey becomes yo' inemah.  Slap mah fro!  Fry mah hide! Yo's kin't

even taste whut it used t'taste likes cuz' it's burned yo' tongue away

an' it's rotted yo' teed, cuss it all t' tarnation. Yo's've gots nodin' an' ya' is nodin' but

peekoolyarly ya' likes it an' still be hankerin'' mo'e. To deviate now'd brin' tragic

results an' in de ind it's easia' plum t'disintegrate.



Life be decishuns made by choices. Breadin' be a decishun we choose.

Wid dooPaws dat subtle, it's hard not t'make missnatch'd, cuss it all t' tarnation.

Jive vahshun courtesy of the...Dialeckizer...


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