Poor Dicknob's Handbook Volume 2
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BEING THE SECOND INSTALLMENT OF A COLLECTION OF UNINTENDED MAXIMS OF THE MOMENTARY UTTERANCE AND THE OVERHEARD EPIGRAMS FROM THE FELLOW PEAS IN MY POD.
PERILOUSLY CLOSE TO THE END OF THE CENTURY.
WITH PRETTY LADY ILLUSTRATIONS THAT MIMI SCHULLO KNOCKED UP IN HER SPARE MOMENTS.
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Does it bother you when I don’t talk sophisticated?
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The best therapy you can get is prank phone calls.
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A: No, it’s like having a toothache and finding out that everyone else has no teeth.
B: How true…
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I think I’m gonna start dating a plant.
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He’s smiling like a fox eating shit off a wire brush.
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I gave to the American Red Clot.
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And I don’t care if you got Nike on or if you got bare feet on. What matters is what’s in your head.
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I can’t have another cup of tea without another cigarette—are you crazy? I’ll go nuts.
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Just assume we hate everyone until we tell you otherwise.
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That’s what I like about mirages. They show the limits of human sensory apparati. If some heat on pavement in the distance makes us think we can see water, how can we think we know anything about the universe? …So we can catch baseballs, big frickin’ deal!
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Don’t be magical and come through the phone and colonize my lungs.
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There’s Kleenexes all over…and then I realized why.
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It was a great statement, you know, about dismemberment.
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Is there such thing as a ‘not nice’ jewelry box?
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It’s like when you’re on vacation and you want to get something ridiculous, like this Flaming Volcano.
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No, I was responsible for the noodles.
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If anyone had told me even a little while ago that I would have any interest in the things I’m interested in at the moment, I would have slapped them.
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This is New York City. Nobody give a fuck what you do.
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The last time I was in this place, I got myself thrown out for playing the piano.
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It’s the cumulative price I pay for not going insane.
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I’m gonna get piss-drunk and contemplate my (astrological) sign.
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A static electricity ball and a block of Breyers…
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Your mind blanks when you walk into a white room.
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She said, "Swell!" so I did.
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Will the real Whoever-The-Fuck-You-Are please stand up?
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I’d trust you with my life, but nothing less.
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It’s so easy to just stick a bumper sticker on your car and think everything’s all right.
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Don’t be so hateful, Frankie dear..
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(Written on the tshirt of a homeless man who often walks out in the street)
(Front)
BORED?
STUPID?
HERE’S THE MAN TO HARASS.
(Back)
PROFESSIONAL TARGET
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I always get uncomfortable when people start talking about their past lives around me.
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He was so reverent that when I looked at him I felt like God was giving me a pop quiz.
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I’m trying to talk about bugs, and you’re talking about craziness.
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I’ve not had my coffee, and I’m not sure if I have any discretion in choosing conversational topics.
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I’m in Japan, outside of this purple temple with a God that’s pissed off.
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Lots of things that were bad happened after that.
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My life would be a lot more simpler if I wasn’t apologized to beforehand.
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The Zippers Of Perhaps…
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Remember when you wanted to see an art museum, Tom? Well, we are at the art museum.
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And all of a sudden I realized I have a penis and it’s coming out from under my skirt.
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If your brain was a gun, I’d only shoot it at myself.
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Hell, half the wounds on his body are from me.
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I wouldn’t use the word ‘stupidly’, but ‘massively redundant’ comes to mind.
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Your mere existence on this planet fucks with me.
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No wonder people like dogs, they’re totally cute and yet they can go kill things.
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There’s something to be said for aerodynamic genitals.
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Ya know that tingle ya get from a really good biscuit?
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I’m gonna wipe my ass with a coffee filter just to see what it’s like.
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When the apocalypse arrives, you can come over and have ravioli.
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Speaking of Shakespeare’s cutting board…
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If you can remember you own telephone number, you can graduate college with honors.
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Somehow I’m getting screwed and not in a good way.
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I was, like, raised on guilt, water and ravioli.
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You could be covered in dog shit, and I’d still think you were sexy.
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Hey, if they let people say "fuck," they should let people play Ethel Merman songs.
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Keep a grain of salt in your ears at all times.
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This dude has dragged around protein better than anyone I’ve never known.
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And people think Knot’s Landing is cool…
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I’m still glowin’ like a jackrabbit suckin’ on a split atom.
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Cool, I’ve got Combat Rock! That reminds me of sewing up in the attic.
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No, I mean scary like spiders talking and drinking wine scary.
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And if you appreciate nonlinear thinking, he’s an interesting person to talk to.
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I told you what the toughest thing about doing nothing is? You don’t know when you’re finished.
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The seasoned backyard trampers…
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You’re in your mother’s bedroom with a flashlight, so what do you do? Rifle through her underwear drawer!
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That’s like trying to put hip sticks on a fuckin’ pig.
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A: You don’t think the people in the Justice Department are real people?
B: Do you think Americans are that dumb?
A: Yes.
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How is it you always manage to live in a heaven and a hell at once?
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If I were a computer-generated image, I’d be all over her.
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If it smashes my head in, then I’m sorry, it’s going to get gross for you.
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I have a lot of experience fighting dogs in my dreams.
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I like to drum. It gets my blood pumping from another dimension.
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I come mostly from water; I’m an otter.
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I don’t attribute consciousness to anything I can fit in my nose, case closed.
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Spiders are flies. Ants are football players.
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If Natalie Merchant got a nose-job, you could definitely put a needle through both of my big toes.
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But, I’m not convinced we should drink urine.
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If you’re pissed off, you’re gonna be lookin’ in different places—cuz your head’s cut off.
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I’m sorry, sir. I don’t answer questions.
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I might have to dye my whole head green…just for the experience of it, ya know?
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They’ve got to get their power trip from somewhere.
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A person’s understanding is different than a poet’s poem.
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Being an aesthetic fascist isn’t necessarily helpful for your community.
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If I really look at my life, I realize I’d be having no less fun in prison.
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Jazz has to have corruption to succeed.
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I dreamt that I had a penis last night…Not sure what that’s s’posed to mean.
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I read several of your poems to my mom in the car…and then we got in a wreck.
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The more logic I learn, the more annoying other people become.
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Lassie, opera…we are all emotional basket-cases.
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Even looking at his goatee makes me mad.
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Don’t deface your Mona.
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A smart person can tell you to go fuck yourself, and it takes you a week and a half to figure it out. That’s the sign of a smart person.
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I’d sue her. I’d take her dolphin boots and her single-wide trailer.
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I know toilet paper isn’t made by clouds and dogs don’t get pissed off cuz they don’t have mayonnaise.
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I know dust, but I don’t live dust.
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So, I suppose that means it’s dead…if it popped.
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To Poor Dicknob's Handbook Volume 1
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To Poor Dicknob's Handbook Volume 3
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To Poor Dicknob's Handbook Volume 4
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