offbeatcinema.myfastforum.org

Poe Man Poe · Joined: 03 Dec 2007 Posts: 368 Location: Pittsburgh, Pa.

Trapped in the elevator shaft at the Melrose building. This place used to be a movie theater. There is a poster of Yves Montand on the wall. Box of Goobers and a warm Coke. Runs.

_________________
My dreams need me more than I need my dreams.

moleman · Joined: 13 May 2008 Posts: 275 Location: The Garden Theater

Maytag box in a patch of weeds off the West End circle. Picture of Eve Plumb taped on the inside. Box of Rainsanettes and warm Regent Mint Ginger Ale. runs
_________________
Admit nothing. Deny everything. Make counter accusations.

Poe Man Poe · Joined: 03 Dec 2007 Posts: 368 Location: Pittsburgh, Pa.

Room 206 at the 'Blue Moon Motel' in Large, Pa. No phone. No cable. A blueish-green fly gouges at the filthy lightbulb suspended from the ceiling by naked copper wiring. I called room service and ordered 'The Country Special'. Runs.
_________________
My dreams need me more than I need my dreams.

tiny · Joined: 17 Jul 2008 Posts: 45 Location: Pittsburgh, PA

Dumpster behind Flushie's and some city chicken in a waxed cardboard box. Sputtering runs.
_________________
What am I, wood over here?

moleman · Joined: 13 May 2008 Posts: 275 Location: The Garden Theater

Broom closet at the Apache Lounge. 1977 issue of Tiger Beat featuring Eve Plumb. 7 Zagnut bars and a bottle of Real Lemon. Squits.
_________________
Admit nothing. Deny everything. Make counter accusations.

Poe Man Poe · Joined: 03 Dec 2007 Posts: 368 Location: Pittsburgh, Pa.

Women's locker room at Westmoreland Community College...half a case of strawberry Ensure, a fifth of Jose Cuervo strained through a leather briefcase, a dozen lemons, an entire salt lick, and a melted Eskimo pie licked out of a filty ashtray filled with feminine hygiene product wrappers. Swollen nipples, hives, a rash across the sack, and torrential runs have ensued. I think I'll hit the New Stanton Tastee-Freeze for dinner. I anticipate runs. In fact, I lust for them.
_________________
My dreams need me more than I need my dreams.

tiny · Joined: 17 Jul 2008 Posts: 45 Location: Pittsburgh, PA

Understudying for the role of Poonie in "Babs and Shelley Berman take Manhattan" - mentos, pop rocks, alka seltzer, and Mountain Dew in a rusty can that may or may not have at one time contained turpentine. Chunky, tornadic wind, a yellow-brown mist, and smoke. I smell the long pork.
_________________
What am I, wood over here?

Poe Man Poe · Joined: 03 Dec 2007 Posts: 368 Location: Pittsburgh, Pa.

In the sub-basement of the Rector YWCA. A sign with faded gray lettering reads "Rector. I damn near killed her". A 13 inch black and white portable is on and tuned to channel 3. The tubes glow in the dark as a Tom and Jerry cartoon plays in a constant loop. A dozen bottles of Aqua-Velva strained through a feminine hygiene product and served in a cup-cake tin. Four chunks of pemmican and a knock-off HoHo. Blazing gobs of lava-hot feces and a pint of blood sloshing down the legs of my Hagger business slacks. A sulphurous cloud ignites into a Cadillac-sized fire ball. Smoke alarms sounding and the howl of the Rector Fire Dept. sirens can be heard. Runs. Loose.
_________________
My dreams need me more than I need my dreams.

tiny · Joined: 17 Jul 2008 Posts: 45 Location: Pittsburgh, PA

The Local Shop, egg salad sandwich off the rack. Unrefrigerated. 3 hours of suspect borborygmus followed by aerosol ketones and esters. Immediately on the heels of that stenchfest, 27 minutes of a 250 psi, 1/16" diameter stream of putrescence capable of stencil cutting stamp steel. Limbs were lost. So caustic that the amputations were instantly chemically cauterized. I'll never wear that pair of Sans-a-Belts again.
_________________
What am I, wood over here?

Poe Man Poe · Joined: 03 Dec 2007 Posts: 368 Location: Pittsburgh, Pa.

The Sponge Room in Trafford, Pa. It used to be the "Spit 'n Whistle" where Senchan served the best brisket and spud casserole in town. But I digress. I had "The Dropper"- a petite soupcon of frog legs and free-range chicken egg omelet over a bed of bamboo shoots and Gouda. I vaguely remember hearing the strains of "The Concerto for the X-15" as the wall paper in my neighbor's powder room peeled back and ignited while the contents of my bowels showered forth. I felt as if I was going to die and then immediately peer into the face of the deity. Runs, indeed.

_________________
My dreams need me more than I need my dreams.