the whisper song at full volume

ok people. this is it. the swan song. done deal. no more blahblahblahG. no more dotdotdotS. no more gooseberry-destroyer. no more z.a.c.k.. death to the silver surfer and waffles. inverted backwards middle fingers to maybes and i don't knows. to commerate my implosion, i have chosen the song "la mer" (the lawrence welk version is pure for sure!) as the soundtrack to this farewell. if you don't already carry it on you at all times please just hum the harmony as you pied-piper me to my new LiFe in my new HoMe dotdotfuckyoudot

that's right. i've relocated forever. no jordan. no ll cool j. no comeback what.so.ever.. i've discovered utopia. the gold at the end of the rainbow. the glow-in-the-dark-decoder-ring at the bottom of your cracker jacks. the girl with the pearl earing(necklace). the last mughal and the first cherry. it is real. it does exist. bacchus. unicorns. sirens. white horse with no addictive qualities. malcolm X baptizing tupac in a river of sangiovese red. mermaids and centaurs. polygomy and ice cream. grab a fucking spoon and come join me as i lick the various bodyparts of Bundi!

now i'm sure some of you will try all manners of persuasion to change my mind. fear of losing my charming antagonism, fun-loving mood swings and passionate self-destruction will clearly send some of you into a paranoid-frenzy. therefore, i've taken some precautions in order to dissuade your efforts. i've made both financial and emotional commitments to my new world that under no circumstances (except maybe presents. i love presents) would i be able to reneg. with that in mind, i ask you all to join together in embracing me and mine.

as a point of departure, below is a fucking terrible photo of Bundi proper. the red arrow points to the real estate lot i've purchased, soon to be the location of my new haveli, already titled "Church." it is located directly next to the home of the milk-wallah(straight from the holy teet! you can't beat it!) and caddy corner from a store that sells both glow-in-the-dark ganesh statues and the world's best watermelons(except for maybe snookie's. god bless you snooky!). city ordinance and G.O.D. says my house must be blue. canepari-gee and dotdotdot says fuck it. with the gooseberry out front. magic. haha! the new transport! huey lewis and the news! doc brown! marty motherfucking mcfly! don't worry though. the goose is still number one in my stable. this is for clubbing and for the rolling the strip. but even canepari-humble says the rims need updating. that's the newest member to team canepaRi-4$ever. his name is deathstardestroyer. i call him hollywoodbollywood. you can call him wilddomestic or skull-fucker. he is a chiller. i love him. ice cube and latifah are zero match for perdip and vikas...wait until you see my damage! wash. rinse. repeat. i still don't really know how much i paid for the new spread. we signed with the semen of a holy man and then drank the blood of the jabberowcky. the deal almost fell through when the notary fled with a bottle of wild turkey i was using to charm the seller. all i do know is this camel was dropped of in the morning by an hemaphrodite in a burqa(ask me how i know that!). the camel was humping (sorry but i had to!) my three new wives and a large pot of boiling-brown water(i have no idea.). whatever. fair is fair. and check out the charliebrown-stlyecut perdip and vikas lined-up for the doublehumper. and to avoid confusion, his name is simply, fuckyouthat'smycamel.and these are all my new friends... left to right, milkshakedestroyer, jellydoughnut(jellydoughnut is like 49 years old but is still nasty with the tigercrane technique) and pleaselovemeeventhoughi'mbrownandugly... soapface and sistermomwife of soapface... say it. you all want to. please...jjjeeeeessssssssusuuuussssss! say it again. louder.

jjjjjjeejeeeeeeesssssssusssuuuuuuuuuuusussssussss!! on a curious side note, the hindi religion actually has a booger-fairy. she's like a distant cousin of shiva. myth has it that she visits your room at night, collects all the boogers you have rubbed off under your pillow and behind the bedframe, and then gives you either dysantery or tapeworm. oh yeah. i forget the girls. all the girls. no such thing as statuatory neither. double-bang-delight. parents please cover your kids ears...bangbangbangbangbangbangbangbangbangbangbangbangbangbangbangbangbangbang sorry. that was entirely inappropriate. sing it with me please...

la mer
qu'on voit dancer les long
de golf claire
a de reflect d'argent la mer
de reflect changeant
sous la pluie la mer
au ciel d'ete confond
les blanc moutons
avec les anges si purs la mer
bergere d'azur infinie voyez
pres des entangs
ce grand roucheaux mouille voyez
les oiseaux blancs
et ces maisons rouilles la mer
les a berces les long
de golf claire
et d'une chanson d'amour la mer
a berces mon couer pour la vie some people are just born with it... ...and some of us have to force it. see you in the 4th dimension. love me as much i love you. nah. love me more. bye forever.

why i spell color with a U . . .

ha! gullible. you should have seen the look on your chevychase. i was just fucking with you! last blahg? death of dotdotdot? end of ...? no more gooseberry-destroyer? you should have known better. my middle name is anikulapo which means i will never die. do some research! but i did move to Bundi and i do now live in a blue shanty with a blue gooseberry, a puppy named G.O.D., a camel named fucki'macamel, a new car that looks like a phonograph and a brand, spankingNew leaf to turn.

anyways, now that y'all have breathed a collective sigh of relief and now that i have your short-lived attention, today i thought i'd discuss the word color with a U. spelled colour. pronounced the same. not really sure why but then again, why the fuck not?

it is of my opinion that the simplest way to explain color with a U is with visual aids. for this introduction, i went to the spiritual capital of coloUr during the coloUr war which so happened to have taken place in the Pink City in the desert.
to participate in the coloUr war there are a few small requirements dotdotdot

first, form a mob (we called ourselves toodrunktofuck aka dickwhiskey).

next, obtain copious amount of toxic paint powder(color with a U!).

after that, get properly sideways drinking baang(weed! laced in your tea! fucking brilliant.).

finally, lotion up head-to-toe with cocoa butter (otherwise toxic paint powder stains are for life!).


collectively(and carefully) choose a song that your mob will be forced to sing repeatedly throughout the day (i suggested "fuck martinez" but was overruled. we settled on "que sera sera.").

once you're all supplied-up, religously ecstatic and highasakite...
Hit. The. Streets. the rules of the ColoUr War are basic.

DeStRoy EvErytHinG.

...especially focus on white people.
oh yeah...and if you have the rare pleasure of destroying a white girl, absolutely make sure you grab her breast in the process. don't worry. it's legit. now ColoUr war often does get out of hand. from the pink city picyaune..."a young white girl was reportedly gang-raped in downtown pink city this afternoon. early reports indicate that approximately a dozen perpetrators emerged from the back of a very small ice-cream truck and were all disguised with white make-up, puffy red noses and enormous-noveltysize-squeeking shoes. A group of school children broke up the violent episode when they mistook the squeeze-toy noises and the sing-song music bleating from the megaphone as their chance for an afternoon orange-creamsicle push-pop. The children are saying that when they did arrive on the scene the truck was already fleeing, leaving behind a dust storm of pink hearts, yellow moons, blue stars and green clovers. The victim was said to be found in good spirits, eating yellow paint, smiling stupidly, and covered in a rainbow spray of romance juice. the local government in a rare show of humility, have decided to only publicly stone the victim and drink her blood, but will still allow her burning ashes to be floated on the ganges river according to hindi tradition."
then things got really ugly...
"in a unrelated episode, an intoxicated white male was arrested in the pink city for what the police are calling "grotesque animal love." the man, identified as canepari-Elite, drew attention to himself by suspiciously following a small white shiiiit-sue down the main boulevard of the old city. The situation escalated when Elite produced a sack of toxic coloUred paint powder which he proceeded to bombard the toy-dog with. fortunately for the victim the majority of the paints landed back-on-zack causing what most onlookers have described as "acute embarassement." the canine, which did suffer one hot pink blast, is recovering well, and has supposedly already sold the film rights to her remarkable story, reportedly titled "pink city pink doggie." Elite, who refused to allow his face to be photographed for what he claims is a disorder called "extreme vanity", will be held indefintly in a local jail. in his first court appearance Canepari-banananutcrunch announced that he would remain tight-lipped until his lawyer, the Blue Gooseberry, arrived. Despite our efforts Gooseberry refused to answer any questions, claiming he had already "said too much"."
then i was molested by the gooseberry. i am ashamed to say it, but i enjoyed it. quite a bit actually. alot.
alot alot.
afterwards, i washed. then we spooned.
so there you have it. now you know why i spell color with U. if you have questions, keep them to yourselves.


on a seperate note, the night ended with a tone of bitter lonliness. the white arrow points to the balcony of the hotel i wanted to stay at. it was full. see it? bathed in blinking lights. you could hear the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses from across the way. the red arrow points to my hotel balcony. i am sitting under a flourescent light bulb and my beer is warm.
woe. is. me.
now some quotes from frank vincent's (aka phil leotardo from "the sopranos" and frank marino from "casino") new self-help book "being a man's man."
"The Atlantis (in the Bahamas) is a unique and beautiful hotel. It has the largest outdoor aquarium in this hemisphere...women love that sort of thing."
"Pierce Brosnan's chest hair is your guideline...His is trimmed right and women like it"

"if you dare to wear sandals with a suit...you should be shot. The only Man's Man who get away with open-toed sandals is JESUS."
"If you have problems putting together the suit, shirt and tie...ask a nice-looking women friend...consult the gay neighbor in apartment 3B."
"Accidently slicing your women in bed with your toenails during sex ain't too cool."
trytostopme.

gooseberry in hindi is gooseberry

hellohi. my name is the blue gooseberry and today i'll be sitting in (against my will) for that self-absorbed, vain, maniacal misanthrope zackary d. canepari. after a series of arguments, and a nasty incident involving a lamp and some old vegetables, i have agreed to guest host this week's installment.

the good thing is the jewishgenius, or jewgee, as he repeatedly asks me to call him, is out taking photos of lepers or kids holding flowers or old men (i forget which), so he will be unable to edit or criticize my opinions/content. therefore i plan on taking full advantage of my time with you all (his so-called friends. he is a black hole! what is the appeal?) and the oppurtunity for everyone to get to know me before he destroys my reputation. let's begin...

first off, a brief history of myself. my full name is generatoroperaterdestroyergooseberry the blue. my friends call me goose, blue goose or G.O.D.. please, do not call me blueberry, mrs. blueberry, blueberry balls or anyother clever combinations of this word. i am particularly sensitive about this...

below is a photograph of myself. strong. sleek. shiny. there is a reason he has been talking about me so much.
somewhere, canepari-extreme (another self-applied nickname. what the fuck is his deal?), found this little excerpt in a book. according to him, he went into some sort of obsessive-epiliptic fit, then proceeded to scare the shit out of some locals until he found me. the rest is a grotesque animal.
i'm not really sure why he wanted to show this photo. it's a slice. i think he really enjoyed it? i don't fucking know.

same with this one. he thinks these guys are giving him props on his new bike. bro, they. are. drunk.
aha! this is my expertise. traffic in this country is a fucking dirty knuckle. and no eye in the sky reporter for hourly updates... "new developments have slowed traffic on that nameless road in the middle of nowhere. a herder has slightly lost control of his cows and has been forced to run around in circles randomly slapping them on the ass with a switch and yelling at them in unintelligble gibberish. his tactics seem to be having no effect whatsoever and it looks as if this could cause quite a gridlock..."
this one is the most typical..."traffic in the old city remains congested, and in fact, has been nothing but congested for the last 2000 years or so, as rickshaw bikers and enormous wheelbarrow pushers still refuse to use any other part of the street besides the direct center. i'd expect delays to continue indefinitly. let's go get drunk."
and one of my personal favorites..."traffic today on the countries only major road slowed because of a holy elephant en route to a nearby temple. normally a smooth, uneventful journey, this trip was slowed when a reportedly hairy tourist, overjoyed by the site, decided it appropriate to pull over and take a series of photographs with the animal. further interruptions ensued as school children surrounded the tourist begging him for money, pens and chocolate. the tourist was seen fleeing the area wearing nothing but a pair of socks and a turban."
to my spiritual delight, complex-god-canepari and i took our maiden voyage together to Galta and the monkey temple, which is dedicated to the monkey-god Hanuman and consists of 3 large pools. one for men, one for women and one for the monkeys. to my complete embarassment, dotdotdot-canepari(what the fuck does that even mean? why does he keep writing it out? isn't it just an ellipsis? and i've been meaning to ask...who the fuck is mezuzah?) spent the entire time feeding, photographing and taunting the monkeys.




the scene upon leaving the monkey temple. this time tomselleck-canepari took the opportunity to instigate a battle royal between the monkeys and the cows by throwing all the leftover peanuts in the neutral area between them. i just closed my eyes in shame so i have no idea how this incident transpired.
that's us together. no doubt, we make a handsome pair. still, his striking good looks and rugged charm do not make up for his abusive personality. why does he have to give every monument in this country the middle finger? and even better, why is his hand facing the wrongway?
fuck this. i'm over it. nobody reads this thing. canepari-impotent has no friends and if he does, they surely have less of an attention span then he does.
turn the mike off...let him clean up his own mess...






friends and family. i apologize for the behavior of the goose. he has a hostile and reckless manner. he has already bit me twice and continously honks and taunts the local police into pulling me over. anyways, i'll be back next week to better represent my life here. good health and better luck to all. jesus