BLOOD AND GUTSTEIN: INTERVIEW WITH A PARTYGOER WHO IMBIBED SEVERAL ALABAMA SLAMMERS.

I know I’ve drunk a lot to had b/c this gala

orig- origineered in What’s it, Mississippi.

Who you lookin’ at, tiger-bird? Did I swill one,

two, three, fourteen slammers? (I summered

in jail the year of nineteen ought to phone my

mama.) Hey! Did you drink one, two, three,

fourteen slammers? Well, then stuff your blow-

blowhole with pasties pastries—just merge!

You’re mean. TIGER BIRD! My name is orgy &

I love myself on Occidental terms. Ewww!

It smells like a box turtle farted-out a box turtle

onto underwear breath. (I’m slappiest if it grains

against the going, if that’d be a higher love.)

My head is looking for the gong that rang it.

BLOOD AND GUTSTEIN