False start on the contest below, but here is a better one.
A very simple chance to win a copy of my book EVER, from the graceful and bounteous hands of Mr. Jereme Dean:
First, add EVER on Goodreads
if you aren't on Goodreads you can instead post a link to the book on your blog, in the comments of another blog, or twitter the shit
then come back here, and leave one literarily-related vile phrase in the comments section (ie: make it germane to books somehow)
such as
mary gaitskill's bleeding anal capacity for filling milk in veterinary life
or
jose saramago scraped the vulva urine from his extra dildo and tossed it to America's forbidden dad
or
octopus magazine's ramrod shunt got caught perpetually in the butt year of blackened mayonnaise
or
i fork-dicked the comte de lautreamont with a salad shooter penile sneak and then we cried lanyards of white need
or
roald dahl's creamy gaping V
whatever you got, be real and nasty
top 3 goodreads or other adders plus dirty mind lit children get the EVER books
*** after this, three more winners will be divvied up copies of
jimmy chen's TYPEWRITER from Magic Helicopter Press
Chris Higgs's COLORLESS GREEN IDEAS SLEEP FURIOUSLY
and
Jamie Iredell's BEFORE I LEFT NEVADA from Publishing Genius.
six chances to win now, and 4 different books. let's get even dirtier. multiple entries welcome.
best comments win on friday morning
thanks again to jereme for the very generous offer
let's get nasty
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75 comentarios:
p.d.james, cynthia ozick, and one cup.
i like the convex 'anal capacity' more than the concave 'anal cavity' you geometry slut
thank you for including me
twisted bulbous boobage blood and shit squirts bubbling rabbits spewing Oprah Winfrey sausage from anus molesting phlegm squadrons mutilating titty fucking jizz residue on toast for breakfast. no coffee. fake buttered bisquik.
i am feeling the early thrust
jimmy, you are a wise box
Give me shit: pictures and memories and smells and sounds and shit like rub me with sandpaper or put your cunt on my nose and press your asshole onto my tongue and call me a cunt-rag.
Can we do more than one? This is a good time now!
oh, remember to include a literary reference of some sort ya'llz
yes, more than one is definitely encouraged. do as many as your brain can manage
Oprah's written books, I think. So my first one's good. And she's got that club.
oh yes, oprah is totally acceptable, in fact, bonus points
perhaps i will give one of the prizes to the person who comments the most nasties, this will have to be taken into further consideration
Proust bukkake beast peaches make vomits into piles of broken teeth chewing vaginas with legs kicking away steaming stench flies licking eye mucus cumming inside gleaming formaldehyde smelling gapes.
I think I'm winning. Hard.
Mickey Rourke's face in the Wrestler. Ernest Hemingway.
Gloria Naylor's anal opening had so no elasticity, that I dove in head first and the Chinese people were surprised and gave me rice with chopsticks and then she sneezed and I vomited rice inside her throat.
Spitty shitty Murakami titties.
Why do I feel like I'm masturbating right now? Umm, Chekhov.
oh man you don't even know the smile that is me.
fuck you set the mood proper son. busted out the potpouri candles and shit.
sabra is destroying.
sylvia plath's ovarian cancer cunnilngus with the blood meal after dessert.
slow lick jimmy chen's soft butthole skin until rupture and release in the semen swap drippings of blake butler and ken bauman droopy old cock guzzlers 5 dvd out takes; scene 22 to be exact.
let's breakdance in some menstrual blood and get the beer bong warmed.
0
fuck i feel kind of bad like i soiled ken or something.
i am sorry ken.
sabra you are indeed 'killin' dat ass'
Just a perfect day, feed animals in the zoo, then later a movie too, and then home. (Lou Reed)
Appreciate the concept, amazing concept really, but I already paid the twelve dollars for your book, and will eventually read it.
Thanks anyway.
PHM
- 0 -
Masturbatory impalement with a rolled up copy of EVER my pussylips are shredded papercuts, light shines from all my bloody holes while rubbing alcohol inflamed to forego infection. Mom's formaldehyde lemon anti-lit douche didn't work. Sorry, Blake. I'm pregnant with your cancerous sound.
We'll call him breakfast.
;)
Jereme Dean is nice -- he recently won a book himself and gave it to someone else.
I don't think I can say something grody. All I can think about is Anne Frank.
Updike’s lips gave me extraterrestrial shit blubber bubble gum dingleberry nut hummers--the pubic star strangling banter kind. Patriotic. Tidal waves of embryonic menstrual snot shot projectile into vats of nasal porridge for lunch.
Have I won yet? This is better than Clue. Boogers. Bukowski.
thank ph, i appreciate it, hello
ani, wowsers, you will get a prize, ty
sabra, while i can't guarantee winners before the contest closes in fear of exasperating would-be winners, let me just say, you have powerfucked the contest to maximum glee
Throbbing Gristle smell in the Bush of Ghosts.
Wait, I don't qualify, I don't have an address and they don't sell that brand of cereal here.
If I win, post my copy here:
Amos Tutuola
C/O His Majesty the King of Hell
17896 Woe Lane
5th Town of the Ghosts
Bush of Ghosts
HELL
amos, dude, i've been trying to get a hold of you for sometime now. mentally faxing that shit to the megaden
a squealing ron silliman drains lorrie moore's swamp-ditch mucus custard into his dirty swelling hands, mixes said with moldy nutella and shivers while smearing concoction under his secret skin flap. glenn beck loads a new yorker blunderbuss with birth control pills and fires it deep into his own ass, his eyes glow forever yellow
I was up a ram's ass for a spell. And that ram was up an 8-headed ghosts ass. I'm okay now.
What's a fax? Some sort of telex?
adam robinson's milk cream asshole gaping from anne frank's skeletal hand fisting.
there you are entered adam
i tried really hard to be perverse but i give up. i will just have to buy the book.
fax is when you are sleeping inside your sleep
brandi, i know you have it in you. just say.
the sentence i was trying to write was about fucking the woman's face that wrote those twilight vampire books until there was a hole big enough to fit my balls through. if i had balls i would do lots of fun things with them.
but i couldn't write it.
come with it now, that is so my alley, i feel you
I have heard rumors that both balls can fit into the teeth hole regardless of ripping the hole bigger with giant cock gouging. It's called Faulknering. Maybe.
haha. man. sabra is on fire.
i would like to note that the copy available simply by buying a $4 or $6 chapbook is still unclaimed
change that.
the person buying a chapbook to claim EVER only has to buy Chris Higg's or Jamie Iredell's words.
I will buy Jimmy Chen's book from MHP and throw it in with EVER.
Trifecta. Prime Number.
Compete and vie. Claim your glory.
dang son you fine as hell
fuck yes
actually i'll match that, i'll buy the iredell and higgs books and give them to people for be nasty
so now, there are six nasty prizes
3 EVERs, the Chen, the Higgs, the Iredell
let's get real nasty now
Sphooze guzzling ninja: so, saw you were eating a Snickers bar earlier. That makes me wanna take some sphooze from you all stealthlike, like a ghost.
Gary Coleman: Whatcho talking bout ninja?! My sphooze doesn't cum cheap!
William T. Vollman: I prefer the mighty sphooze of prostitutes, assholes. Shut up. You guys don't know anything about real sphooze.
One-armed alien with a massive erection: Earth orgies are so weird.
okay the alien got me to laugh hard.
sabra might be in the process of what one calls a 'sweep'
Willy T. Vollman funneled creme into his soft puttering anus, sputtering out little droplets of crust, crust from the formal licking of a said Willy Gass, both musking their cocks with crud motor oil while another from behind, a faceless other, spit forth sopping reams of The Tunnel into each other's anus, one sucking and one spitting, then swapping, a kind of orgiastic swap-meet, the tar from the cocked oil mixing with the unwashed and often scorched hair of the faceless others while Willy and Willy finally meet again, the siphoned anus of W.T. becoming agape at his pull, the hairs on his ass tearing out caught betwixt his unkempt three inch nails, slightly digging, drawing a red while Will G. inserts his slighlty limp oil crud dick into the other W's hole, and the smell of the oil makes the W.T. begin to sputter, his lips caught in a tremble, and the saliva pours forth, and then the vomit comes, apples and a rind and small maggots and whatever was left of the garbage salvaged earlier out of the dumpster behind his mother's condo unit, condo plex, a condo ples reminding both Willy's of a certain body part upon waking, a body part they often share with each other's assholes and often tug at each other's balls for, a hint, a nudge.
And then the reaming.
Pure violence. Tearing and gouging, an eye eventually burst and dripping down a pockmarked cheek while the ramming continues, Willy G. not stopping until his balls begin to quiver and suck up into his gut, his urethra now coated with the dried crud, blood, motor oil & shit, and finally a release.
They finish.
They begin.
I heard Virginia Woolf licked a feamle Bullfrog's tender cooter so intimately once that she became addicted to the flavor and fragrance of frog cooter; so bad that she came up with this plan to make love to all the Bullfrogs with her mouth in the river, and well, we know the rest of the story...
I said "cooter." I should be ashamed.
And, feamle = the new female.
Dostoyevsky cunnilingus.
mary wollstonecraft fingered a teenage boy in a slow, gentle and nasty way for many years, maybe for four years straight
the side of daniel defoe's penis split open while he was getting a tattoo and tentacles came out and they were friendly tentacles and they cuddled daniel defoe and he was happy to have a friend
fucking Lolita's eye socket whilst stroking Humbert Humbert and using his cum as lubricant.
oliver took doodads and a picture of will burroughs to the smarmy mans shop. these here doodads been used hard up. this heres a face pic and i asted for somtin' dat would show his size. smarmy always had a thing for literary men. oliver got out his wallet dug out something and began unfolding it. was dat you gots. smarmy reached out his hands to snatch it up. but not before oliver ran from the store into the alleyway touched the thing to his penis and came. the polaroid image of fresh cum on mothers eggs and broccoli. he could snap another shot perhaps. he really liked the colors of smarmys new doodads.
yes, yes, mmm, bring this
aw fuck, im going to hell for this.
raping maya angelou. again.
raping alice sebold. again.
I am out of breath. WOW. Holy fuck dude. A bit nervous and anxious here. I just cut this from my Aunties blog: http://sandrabrowndotnet.sevom.com/me-and-tony.php
... I just remembered that scene from the Empire Strikes Back where Luke has to gut the animal to sleep inside it. What strength that must have taken? Shit, who am I kidding? He had an effing light-saber. All I had was an electric turkey carver and ambition. I cut that fat fuck open. It took a while to remove the ribs. Like 10 minutes or something. I sat my cunt on the swollen intestines and tried to welcome them in. They were a bit too viscid for my taste, so I fucked his kidney. I think it was a kidney. There were two of them, I know that much. The intestines were not wasted though. I had Tiffany take a yard tool and an icing cone and force some cut up parts in my ass. I sat hard on that fat ole fatty fuck fuck smeared my tits with some blood and took a huge chunk from his heart and spit it at the wall. I told Tiffany to piss on his face. She did while I came.
oprah sex talk show with the star from eraserhead on a vibrating stack of poems which have been living in the panties of heath ledger while he was snuggling inside the pussy of anderson cooper
melville fucks the whale
squinted into bob hass' pee-hole like a telescope
used a can opener around mary jo bang's anus: tomato sauce
fucked what's her name that wrote "my life"
after ejaculating within the vaginal cavity of carson mccullers' rotting corpse, the gentlemen flipped a coin, the winner put his mouth over her vagina while the others pressed down on her stomach, shooting semen and maggots into the winner's mouth
the square root of wonderful!
just for the record, i would totally fuck carson mccullers dead or alive. and i would give her my best goo. not the runny stuff.
As always I'm so late, it's like I'm in prison--you know, the kind of prison one finds one in post-pedophiliac and homicidal child-napping actions. The kind of memoir that becomes a novel because you only love her so much because she just looks exactly like that thirteen-year-old you were once in love with, and still are, and so am I, and jesus christ, let's face it--I like books about kids.
come on feel the noise
girls rock the boys
man i am fucking smiles for miles. early on i thought "this is going to be a sausage fest. girls are too bashful to be randy and base". but fuck i was so wrong. the sausage fest withered and beautiful marshmallow titties emerged.
god bless all you cunt bearers.
a recently found decay exists in my heart for sabra. she is my new favorite stray kitty.
alas i knew she could not keep up her rhythm after the initial burst.
yes i feel happy
Jereme. We are all a part of this rhythm nation. That's from a song, but sometimes I really believe that.
Now here's a bloody bird head to show how much I care.
Blake. I am happy too.
jean-paul sartre's ricotta bodied smegma under camus' conjunctivitis eyelid after ill fated skullfuck attempt over nothing
Contest entry:
I'm sort of interested in listening to an audiobook of the New Dennis Johnson novel.
dan brown and ishmael reed just kissing, having a lot of fun and enjoying each other's bodies
This one's for Noah:
Jonathan Safran Foer sitting at a table eating a giant salad made of horse dicks. No lettuce, no dressing, no croutons, no purple cabbages, no celery, no Bacos, just giant horse dicks, in a bowl. Horsedick salad.
This one's for my mom:
Salman Rushdie, riding his scooter in the country, ran over a possum with pregnance, shooting pink mini poosums at his hungry feet. He pinched a blind squirmer up by its hairless hanches and hungry--bit through its neck, crunching its mini brain through his teeth like an M&M; then sucking through it's tiny juicehole, he made its skin flaps hollow before shoving the smooth pink empty into his cheek to savor and swallow back on his scooter.
I puked a little on that last one. On Ayn Rand's shit hole.
It's really all about holes and juices isn't it? Life's just a cocktail of delicious holes and juices.
I think it's beautiful the way scooter rhymes with cooter. And pooter. Poonanny. Ray Bradbury.
Okay, seriously, I could do this forever...
'pregnance' sealed it for me, you are the mega champ
Stephanie Meyer
can i give sabra a prize also?
(clarice lispector crawls through caves, mouth full of fertilizer, cheeks streaked clean, chest torn open, she crawls under rocks, is ripped until she's limbless, stops; chancing upon her i tumesce in her chest wound, unlovely, oozing gravy typhoid growing greatly sad rising until sleep, and wake, and lovely walk away combing my hair into the earlylight)
thanks everybody, winners will be announced later today or maybe tomorrow... so many to study
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