kurt was singing some hank sr. tunes on the bus

as we bounced down the blue highway through the desert. it was a bumpy ride, but they had olympia tall boys in a cooler that never seemed to empty.

after a while i fell asleep and woke up and it was nighttime and we had just pulled into what looked to be a whore house.

coming out? kurt asked.

it was just like you’d imagine it: girls in wild west outfits, long skirts, petticoats and bonnets being chased around by guys in their long johns spilling their jugs of moonshine while a man in a vest smoking a stogie bangs out ragtime on a worn out piano.

i love you, kurt cobain.

well this isnt really what you probably think it is.

this is heaven, right?

no, we’re still a long way from heaven.

its a house of ill repute, no?

sorta. these women are yours for the taking, but first you have to accomplish a very important task. several, actually.

just say the word my man.

i had my eye on an asian lass who was scrubbing the back of an old prospector with a brush with a long handle in a bathtub that stood right there in the middle of all the action. she winked at me and blew me a kiss that i swear to you ladies and gentlemen, i felt right on my cheek.

behind that door right there is an arcade. there are many pinball machines in there. it will be your job to play and think about your life.

shit man, are you sure this aint heaven?

now just dont think about just any old thing as this room is special. what you need to do is think about any unfinished business you might have to do.

like bills i need to pay?

exactly. bills, tasks you havent yet done. this is your chance to tie up any loose ends. think. play. and as you play, your thoughts will get fed into the machine and the little angels will do as needs to be done.

so like, i have this busblog book.


yeah, creepy mindreader. Blook was supposed to get sent out on Friday but i got stabbed.

okay, what you do is as you play think about where the list of address are and where the books are and pretend you have esp and tell the angels what you want them to do.

can they autograph my name for me?

yes, they can do anything you want. but they wont do anything unless you think it, so think every step.


so if your list is behind a wall safe, esp them the combonation to the lock.

ahhh, i see, well my list is in my hotmail. so i esp them my passwords?


ok. got it.

awesome, i’ll be over here watching the cockfight.

hey wait a second, kurt, why is all of this in a whore house?

it’s here because once youre done, with everything, Everything, then you get to hang out here for a few hours and celebrate.

i walked through the swinging doors and there i saw all my favorite pinball machines. there was Fireball and Earthquake, High Speed and Black Knight, Star Wars and Addams Family, a super oldschool KISS machine was being tossed around by a surly fellow who obviously had a lot on his mind. I saw Hercules which was a super huge one, and the Simpsons pinball machine. Theatre of Magic, which i adored. Super old school 8 Ball which brought back some memories, let me tell you.

There was Big Guns and my beloved Fire!, Medievil Madness and who doesn’t love Pin*Bot?

I wanted to get down to business so i stopped looking around and settled in at one of my faves, Cyclone, which has been my bitch ever since we first met.

a lovely cigarrette girl offered me some candies or gum and all i asked for was a quarter. she gave me one and kissed my cheek and walked away with a little wink.

and i thought about all the books. and i told the angels my passwords which were all so easy, and i told them what to write in each of the books, and i told them to read the email messages from all the nice people. and i told them how to pack them and to include love and tender care.

then i paid what few bills i had. then i had them write out my will, which was pretty much, “to chris, i give everything. just like i did that one time.”

then i told them to hide my xbi weapons over in the dumpster behind the church next door. then i told them to kiss ashley on the cheek cuz shes so super sweet.

and then i told them how to update this blog.

and when the third ball sank i felt the warm breath of an asian girl, yes, the one from earlier, and she had a shot of rum in one hand and a six ounce can of coke in the other and her twin sister arrived with three slices of pizza and i followed them upstairs, and they shut the door and locked it.


me and kurt cobain were waiting for a bus.

i had recently been murdered, as wonderfully reported by the sorority girl’s sexy jailbait sister.

we were waiting for this bus, ironically in death valley, california, where apparently the recently dead go to prepare themselves for the ascension, the judgement and whatever comes after that.

kurt was humming.

“how often do you have to do this sort of thing?” i asked.

not often. they knew that i would be good match for you, though, so i said okay.

he went back to humming.

he looks younger than you’d think and i asked him about it and he said that after he shot his face off they pointed a magic wand at him and poof it was back.

“what are you humming?” i finally had to ask. it was killing me.

that new j.lo song. im just jenny, jenny on the block. i used to have a little, now i got a lot. im just jenny, jenny on the block.

kurdt was the one who said for us to kill our idols, right?

“are you enjoying heaven?”

yeah. my stomach doesnt hurt up there. nobody is yelling at me. i can just be normal. walk around. smoke. nobody gives me any shit. you can go into a bar, restaurant even, nobody gives you a dirty look. theres no “smoking” or “no smoking” sections. it’s civilized.

“are there any chores in heaven? things you have to do?”

you have to laugh on at least twelve different occasions before you go to bed. but thats not very hard. it’s super funny up there. people love cracking each other up. you also have to dance for at least 15 minutes a day. i usually get that out of the way as soon as i wake up.

“what did you dance to this morning?”

jenny on the block. then whitney’s “i wanna dance with somebody” then nelly “up in herre.”

“were you into r&b when you were alive?”

on earth i wasnt very much into that sort of music, but now i am big time.

i was starting to think i wasnt going to go to heaven at all.

i was starting to think it was all a very bad dream that was getting worse.

i thought maybe i was just gonna go straight to hell, when kurt started patting his knees with his palms and singing quietly

peggy sue, peggy sue,

pretty pretty pretty pretty peggy sue.

oh my peggy

my peggy sue.

oh, well, I love you gal, and I need you, peggy sue

and to be honest. part of it scared me. but then it really relaxed me and i started to float about a foot off the bench and kurt handed me a picture of him and his family taken around christmas time.

leaving those two is my biggest regret. if you put it in your pocket it will weigh you down until we get there.

i took it and put it in my front flannel pocket and it sent me down with a thud.

kurt floated a little but knew how to control it.

how come no one ever comments on your page, bro?

“i think they’re shy.”

maybe they dont like any of this.

“if they didnt like it, they’d say so. i just think they’re shy.” i said and then listened to kurt sing a little more.

gotham pictures