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That Time We Asked Phil Bram To Write A Review For "Friday the 13th"....

(Editor's Note: I apologize.)

Dear Mike,

Friday The 13th? Jesus 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 Christ! Really Mike? Who the 🍩🍆👌👈 has time to sit around and watch stupid 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 movies anymore? I've got FOUR 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 jobs right now and I still can't make it work! Our mail gets pinker and pinker every day. I owe over a hundred thousand 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 dollars in back taxes for getting my stupid 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 face photographed way back when. I haven't been able to pay my studio rent in months. Our main sewer line is cracked straight through the God$&#% mother🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 foundation! And now we're going right back into another mean ass winter with a 30 year old 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 furnace and a rusted out old oil tank! There's enough mold in our basement to re-floor the Sherwood Forest. Our new washer we bought on Beacon Buy, Sell, Trade, or stick it up your 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 ass, won't drain. Our God$&#% dishwasher wobbles around like R2 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 D2!

You think I got time for this 💩💩💩💩 , Mike? Look, I know I know, I didn't have to do this. I could've been honest and just said no. But these days people come up to me and ask me to do something and I'll just respond with whatever gets them the 🍩🍆👌👈 out of my face the fastest. So now it's 5:12 in the 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 morning on the day you said you needed this stupid 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 thing because, believe it or not, I still consider myself a man of my word.... Actually, that's not true, I would've slept in till about 6:00 and blown it off but my 3 yr old yelled in his sleep, "I WANT MY POOP!" and then kicked me right in the 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 nose, the same God#%&@ nose that he dug his sharp little fingernail into the nostril of and sliced a good hunk out of it, right at the tip. The blood was pouring down my lips and chin. "Daddy! You're bleeding, daddy!" he said to me with his cute little voice. "Yeah, I'm bleeding! You just sliced my nose!" That was probably a month or two ago and the damn thing still won't heal. People keep looking at it like I've got a crusty booger hanging there.

But I don't give a 💩💩💩💩 . I don't give a 💩💩💩💩 about anything anymore. Seriously, if I didn't have kids, I couldn't care less if a God$&#% nuke landed on the top of my🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 head, or I got my face chewed off by a mother🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 baboon. I've just had enough of this stupid 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 world. I mean, is any of this 💩💩💩💩 really happening? Is there really such a thing as Donald Trump? Is this what everything that has ever happened in the history of mankind has brought us? Is this why all those wars were fought? Is this what science and philosophy and all that great art and literature has done for us? Jesus, Mozart, Di Vinci, Ghandi, Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, Hemingway, Bob Dylan, Doug Stanhope, Ferdinand🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 Celine, that dude from Cinderella (I have a thing for him. I can't kick it. I'm not proud.)? What the hell was the point of it all? What difference did any of it make? I mean, the only good thing about any of it is that we've all been completely and utterly, hopelessly failed by it all. I mean, doesn't it just totally 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 suck to be anything anymore? I haven't laid eyes on a single human being in decades where I felt the least bit of envy for. It sucks to be a man, it sucks to be a woman, it sucks to be black, white, young, old, rich, poor. It sucks to win just as much as fail. I don't know, man. About all I can say about this world anymore is that we've got to somehow get it together for the children. I 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 LOVE children! I certainly wouldn't recommend having any but they're amazing! My children are the only thing that keeps the gun barrel out of my mouth, the noose from snapping my neck.

But listen, man, I DID watch a few minutes of Friday The 13th like you asked me to before I switched it over to about the only thing that I can count on anymore, the only thing that still makes any sense- big booty porn. At first, all I could think about was how nice it would be to be able to go back in time and get a crack at some of that fresh young early 80's camp counselor ass with what I know now. But then I started thinking about the parallels of this dead, young, sweet killer boy named, Jason. Or wait, was it his mother that killed everyone in that stupid 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 movie? I can't remember.

But I feel like Jason here in Beacon, ya know, with everything that's happening to Beacon. Those unscathed, un-lived 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 asshole camp counsellors, sittin' around the fire without a care in the world, singing their stupid songs, running off to screw each other in the woods. They're just like all these weekenders that come up here to enjoy themselves while we all 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 suffer for it. They make me 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 sick. And now that The Hop's closed, shit, that was our 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 mouse trap right there! They're gonna start nosing around every God$&%# tasty morsel that's left of this doomed town. What the hell are we gonna do, Mike? 💩💩💩💩 , maybe you're right? Maybe it's best just to check out and watch stupid movies and act like it's not actually happening, that it's not finally, truly, without a doubt, the end of the mother🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 world as we know it? And hey, you should sell Corn Nuts at your screenings. I LOVE Corn Nuts! Always have. They're 🍆🍩🍌👌👈💋💤 awesome! Ranch is my favorite.




Phil Bram

Phil Bram lives, works, writes, works, makes art, works and works in Beacon, NY. "Like a hardened worm stuck on the sidewalk beneath a burning son."




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