story by Norm and Paul
music by Dave
see Norm's page under the Youtube name nrm333
I was H P Vimps, Psychic Detective. I lit a hash-oil cigarette and wandered down the rusting stairway to the door marked EXIT.
I awoke in an alley after shooting up the last of my morphine and crack. my gas mask was still on but there was this odd feeling I had that the sun should be rising. till I realized. the shit city of Houston was always darkness. the feral packs of rabid animals that were still left would soon pick up on my scent. fuck man. my life is a chaotic circle of delusion. I was so loaded leaving my safe zone last night that I forgot to bring bullets for my gun. a gun is so fucking useless without ammo. Christ. I'm having a panic attack. I been shooting Prozac into my last vein every morning while snorting Ritalin to start my day. with in a few hours all I want to do is get as drunk as possible. I'm pretty sure the Aliens have some how implanted some chip into my being and are studying my behaviors. I stumbled into loco vatos territory some how last night with chuck. he was all jacked up on meth and Xanax, telling me how he had this great plan to sneak up on the Loco Vato gang and exact revenge for his slut girlfriend. I knew he was just high as fuck talking gibberish. but still I went along with him. and now he is no where to be found as the dark dank sun tried to rise to a city of pollution and toxic air. who was still looking for revenge for his nasty ass slutty drug infested girlfriend being gang raped by this crazed gang. Sometimes I forget my name, but a voice in my head keeps telling me my name is H P Vimps, I think I was once a psychic detective, and maybe still am. I keep seeing the mind TV and Obama but I'm not sure if it's just the lack of sleep. either way I have set up a zone of protection around my camp due to my overly obsessed thoughts on people that are out to get me. I seen too much and they don't want to let me live. chucks girlfriend never did come out of her coma. so we cooked her up one night on the barbecue and I'm still paranoid that eating her flesh. her soul may be infecting my thought pattern. All I can do is collect my arsenal of weapons and wait for the fuckers. something else has been bothering me as well. it's not so much the nightmares of David Hasslehoff heads coming from a spread wide butt hole. but. I keep waking up thinking I smell pampers coming through the air vents. I swear to fuck. I smell pampers. and an odd scent of some kind of medical cream. I cant take much more of this smell. even with my gas mask on. I can smell the rotten scene of a bunk diapers that had just had a fresh green shit in its pampers. even tho the resistance killed and "Torchered" (death by immolation on live TV) Dick Cheney, for some reason the mini clones that the right wing created of his embryo released their counter attack a few weeks ago and it's still been fucking with my head.
So I walk out along Orleans Avenue under dying crackling mercury lamps, past the crackwhores and ghosts on the corner, lift a manhole cover and descend into the sewers-- It's dry down there now all the toilets are broken and clogged and no plumbers to fix them-- certain individuals live down here-- Folks who ont mind the scent of mummified sewer rats and petrified excrement. I know a guy called Tree lives down here-- the tunnels are partitioned up like Japanese houses with black Hefty Bag material-- Mostly pervs avoiding the cops live down here-- But tree is alright-- He just lost his sense of smell in the third Iraq war, so he don't mind the smell so much. He sells the best acid in town. I find his hippie-peace-sign pained door-flap and clap my hands-- everyone does that down here since they can't knock. Tree is apparently still passed out, so I unfastened the piece of duct-tape and went in. Tree was laying there with his throat slashed open, his lower face and neck encrusted in dry blood like a red beard, eyes bulging out like Rodney Dangerfield. All the acid was gone. I figured it was the Aliens done tree in-- the motherfuckers are working for Them-- they got double agents too-- And Aliens walk amongst us masked in human form-- Many of the prostitute of the city are succubus Alien vampires who erase your brain and replace it with a viral worm parasite which now sees through the victim's eyes, with total control. But next thing I know I hear imbecilic laughter from behind-- I spun on my heels and then I knew who done it--Fucking Kid Rock stood there in Tree's flap-hole, His posse of two-dimensional half-wits stood behind him and to his left and right. laughing with a sneer which displayed chunky gold teeth. He was smoking a shitty-smelling cigar, wearing a wife-beater stained with stripperglitter and spoodge. he has his enormous RayBan sunglasses on and his stupid red pimp hat. He had been in Houston when the Alien onslaught came-- On tour I assume-- And he's unfortunately survived the assault.
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Crack City (part 1)by redpaul794,920 views
lol random
millsy2625 1 year ago
Ello Guvna, WOOH CRACK CITY!
CrackCityRocker1211 2 years ago