Archive for the Uncategorized Category

Hubba Bubba

Posted in Uncategorized on September 17, 2015 by dissectingthefetalpig

There is a game involving used bubblegum that exists. Perhaps there is one sole player in human existence who plays this odd game with these particular and peculiar rules. 
It is played on the platform of any train station that has a wall behind the third rail. One must first chew a piece of gum until it is bland and no longer sticky, yet has some bounce to it. 
The object is to throw the gum at the wall at an angle hard enough to hit the wall, bounce under the rail and back into your mouth. So far, this has become an impossible feat. However, there is also a point spread.

Points are measured in Skrillions which are basically shrimp bullion cubes. They are also a tasty snack worth it’s weight in gold to amphibious mercenaries from Epsilon Arcana located in the far west part of The Kindred Solar System. All Skrillions accumulated from game play are locked in a secret vault until you’ve finally and successfully performed the full goal of bouncing the gum from the wall, to the floor under the third rail an back into your mouth. Upon which the gum will transform into a pegacorn (not quite a unicorn and not all Pegasus) which will fly out your ass and guide you to the vault and unlock it with it’s magical horn and multiple tails. 

Scoring points is easy enough. I your gum sticks to the wall and goes no further, 10 Skrillion. If it makes it under the rail, 20 Skrillion. Completely around the rail is an automatic 1,000 Skrillion. I you win on your very first try you receive an unlimited supply of Skrillion and two fleets of the intergalactic space pirates of your choosing. If the gum is too sticky and remains stuck to you there is given the option to put the gum back into your mouth and chewed to a better suited game piece at the cost of 100 Skrillion or to forfeit the game altogether. 

I’ve been playing this game since I was a child and I swear to god that by the time I win I will be able to hire enough mercenaries to give the entire population of the world one big simultaneous wedgie. 


A Father’s Lullaby To His Unborn Child

Posted in Deep Thoughts, True Stories, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on June 11, 2015 by dissectingthefetalpig
So sleep, little one, sleep. Let your eyes grow heavy as I tell you a tale of woe and redemption. Let me recant to you the tale of my life. Of my often turbulent and troubled youth and how it became a daily pattern of disturbing and often repugnant behavior. My life had become a dark series of twists and turns with the occasional tale of glory. All of these things had an integral part making me who I am today. Listen as I fondly recant how I had met your mother and how her love started to put me on a better path. Let my voice be calm and soft, though it may often quiver, as I tell you the tale of the night that I bolted upright and in a fit of panic as realty came to conquer. Allow me to retrace for you, my child, the exact pivoting moment where I decided to best possible human being that I could be as I realized what terrible and awful human being I had been. I had been a poor excuse at best. Maligned and with a less than pleasant disposition. It was the night I sat up with a fright and and had awoken your mother, who was then not bearing you. I just had a complete flashback of my life and saw myself for who was and what I really had been throughout the years. It was an exquisite pain at first; to see the full picture from an outside view. I suffered a tremendous anxiety attack as I realized that I deserve nothing less than the pains of hell and what a terrible sinner I had been all throughout my life. How I had been exactly like my father and his father before him.  And, how then, at that exact moment, triumphantly decided, that no matter the outcome, I, your father, would break that vicious cycle and would ensure that by the time you came along that you would never know such hardships, such pain or the endless hunger no matter how tough the times may be. That I would be the best role model a father could be.
May my words fill your little heart with courage and confidence. Pray that you drift off into sleep always knowing your fathers love, so that he, too, may sleep soundly in his final years to come.

Stare Down

Posted in Deep Thoughts, True Stories, Uncategorized on September 15, 2014 by dissectingthefetalpig

buttmirror-1024x581 I once had a staring contest with myself.  I wanted nothing more than to look into the eyes of the one person I hated most and bear deep down into his soul and see what he was made of.  Would I be looking into the eyes of a real motherfucker or would I be staring down some chicken-shit nancy boy?  I wasn’t entirely sure either, but what I did know is shit was going down and it was going to go down now.

So there I stood in front of the mirror.  This was it, this was the showdown.  At first I coolly looked myself dead in the eyes.  I immediately noticed how stubborn I was. Why was I doing this? Regardless,I refused to break eye contact.  I started to notice the details of my eyes.  The almond shape, how judgmental they appear at first glance and the overall darkness were the first few moments focus.  I started to notice the wrinkles I had accumulated over the years.  Then I started to look deeper.  How wild eyed I must appear at times?  The irides both big and brown with a light hazel ring around the very edges.  A dark rich brown much like a dark chocolate or a healthy shit.  I could make out the stroma and I noticed how much it reminded me of a sea urchin the way it expanded and contracted.  My cold stare was now focused on what could be considered a warm embrace at times.  A look that could possibly warm a lover’s heart.  Could I be caving in?

What seemed like minutes had passed.  My eyes were watering, tearing, as I held my gaze.  I was not about to give in.  I was too far invested to cash out now.  There was a slow searing feeling as my eyes began to sting from the tears.  I wanted to blink desperately.  This was crunch time. Time to see who is who.  I focused on the blackness of my pupils.  The emptiness.  The void within.  Hollow.  I fixated on this and began to wonder how many people do this?  How many people can?  It’s no easy task to look oneself in the eye, to be able too look into the windows of your own soul and see all your features.  Your cracks and crevice reveal your moments of selfishness, weakness, strengths and beauty within.  We take so much time studying others that we forget to study ourselves.

I swam in the black pools of my eyes for what seemed like eons.  I had finally felt the calm.  I had let go.  And with that I blinked.  I snapped back into reality only to realize that only fools have staring contests with themselves.  This endeavor was no-win situation at best.

Perhaps, I had lost… Perhaps, I had won.


Parents Are Liars

Posted in Rants, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 12, 2011 by dissectingthefetalpig

Let’s face it and simply admit that our parents lied to us. I know for fact mine did. Hell, they still do. Here are a few common lies that pretty much every parent has dropped on their kids for better or for worse

You can be whatever you want to be when you grow up:

In theory, yes you can be whatever you want if you really try. But that little harmless morale booster doesn’t quite tell you the fine print. Like if you told your quadriplegic kid he could be an athlete some fine day if they really wanted to… That’s not a complete lie. They have the Special Olympics for people who want to challenge their disabilities and overcome personal barriers. It’s a good thing. But what if that kid wants to get more specific and be a swimmer? A quadriplegic can’t swim! Float, sure. But never swim. Let’s even go so far to add the hope of a medical or scientific breakthrough. Even if they found a way to fix your broken kid tomorrow, your child may never ever receive treatment. Shame on you lying parent, shame on you!

Or let’s say your kid wants to grow up and be the next Hitler? Do you really want to encourage that? Seriously folks, shoot your kids straight. Your child sometimes shouldn’t be encouraged to be whatever they want.

I will always be proud of you, no matter what:

That’s just bullshit right there. Wait till your kid is strung out on drugs because they had their dreams crushed and do animal porn. Will you as a parent be proud of your kid then? You should be, it’s your fault. Your the one that lied and said they could be whatever they wanted. It never happened and it sent them on a spiral. Great parenting asshole, keep up the good work!

However, I will say this, there are some lies that parents say everyday that actually work. For example:

We’re not poor, just broke:

I heard this a lot as a child and when I look back I know full and well we were fucking poor. But it left the parties involved with some dignity and it was very encouraging. As an adult when I find myself at a financial rock bottom I know that this will pass. I am not poor, I am just a little skint on money at the moment. I’ll check myself and totally understand why my pop would pull that line on me now. It made me appreciate what I had and taught me the value of a dollar.

It’ll be alright:

I don’t even have kids and I use this lie all the time. No-one has anyway of knowing the out come of anything, not even Walter Mercado. But, at the same time, it might just be alright. If you get your ass in gear or look at the broader picture you’ll see how things may actually pan out. Even if you are terminally ill and dying; it’ll still be alright. It’ll be over in time and everything will work itself out. The getting from Point A to Point B may not be fun, but that’s OK. It will be alright.


The Voyeur

Posted in Deep Thoughts, Rave, Uncategorized with tags , , , , on September 25, 2011 by dissectingthefetalpig

I like to watch.  It is as simple as that.  If you don’t stop and look around some days, you’ll never really see the full picture.  The world is filled images and little details that act like hidden gems just waiting for you to find.  You can walk down any street and find something interesting or beautiful if you just took your blinders off.  Don’t just look side to side or dead straight; look up under and around.  Observe what is going on and you may be surprised at what you find.

One of the things I enjoyed about being a bouncer was that I had to watch and observe.  You start to learn the pattern of people and it gets easier to pick out the irregularities.  Irregularities in a crowd can be both good or bad.  A young couple having a heavy make out session, lovers meeting for the first time, a drug exchange, the preamble to a fight or shady behavior all stick out from the overall picture of what is seen in a bar.  Yet they can blend in really well at times if you don’t spot them.  It’s all a game to me, like an egg hunt of sorts.  Every bar or club I enter is immediately scanned for spots where things could happen, then I look to see what type of crowd surrounds me and then I look for the place best suited for me to sit and watch.  Sometimes this can be seen as problematic.  I would refuse to go to certain places again after seeing what a madhouse it was.  I see no reason to be in a place that is dangerous beyond the point of exciting and leans more towards being a deathtrap.  Friends and lovers alike used to think I was no fun for not wanting to go to bars known for having shootings in the parking lot regularly.  I saw it as having an allergic reaction to lead pills.

I love going out late at night and seeing what the world has to offer me as the majority of its inhabitants slumber.  It’s easier to find things, for me, at night as you don’t have the sun’s glare in your eyes.  Recently, I saw an older couple dancing on their balcony.  A slow waltz or something similar I suppose.  But it was awesome to see two old people still in love with each other like the day they first met.  They too were using the veil of the night for their advantage.  I didn’t want to interfere or interrupt the moment as some nosey onlooker, so off I went.  It’s moments like those that make me not loathe the world as much as I do.  It’s like some affirmation that good things still exist.

Even when all I see is the bums shuffling or slumbering on the street, the tricks working their corners and the junkies fixing, it’s still a glimpse into the world no one wants to admit we live in.  The real world.  I never saw the point of turning a blind eye to the problems.  These proverbial monsters under our beds that haunt us as we sleep.  It made more sense to get used to them rather than deny that it is happening.  And there is a uniqueness to this atrocity exhibit that I find exhilarating.  My outlook is that life is built on moments.  With that said, I would rather have a life built on unique moments rather than mundane ones. I like catching rare glimpses of raw life, even when it hurts.  I think it is almost damnable to live life like cattle and just shuffle along your usual route to the cubicle you call a job.  You need to switch it up sometimes and just see what is out there and take notice of all the flaws the gem of life bears.  These flaws, these imperfections are what make things so interesting.  Anyone can walk into a jewelry store and see a perfectly cut stone, but rarely do we get to find one in the raw.


The Cost Of Living

Posted in Deep Thoughts, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on August 24, 2011 by dissectingthefetalpig

Life is cheap

It doesn’t cost a dime

You are just the byproduct of two people fucking

Possibly strangers

Strangers wrapped up in the heat of the moment

Acting like two animals in heat

Then you are born…

Even then all you have known and accumulated

can simply cease.

A lifetime of work decimated within seconds


When you die, people reflect on your worth

They mourn their loss

Posthumously you’ve become an asset

Even though you were worth something all along

and you probably never knew it


Year Two: The Pig Roast

Posted in Uncategorized on January 20, 2011 by dissectingthefetalpig

This post documents the second year of Dissecting The Fetal Pig. This past year was probably one of the worst years of my life. However, when you hit rock bottom, the only way is up. Unless of course you decide to sink six feet deeper. I’m not ready for my dirt nap. So with that said, I’d like to thank all of The Pig’s readers and subscribers.

This new year should provide to be more interesting as I set sail to live in Puerto Rico. I never thought I’d leave NYC. I love this city more than any human could. It has been like a friend, a lover, a bad habit and my get away car throughout my life. It has nurtured, fed and clothed me; as well as educated me academically and on a more street level. I cannot say this about many other cities. I don’t have much in the way of things tying me down these days. After some serious deliberation and the soul crushing experience of wanting to find an apartment I could call home, I’ve decided to move elsewhere. It makes no sense to work two jobs I really hate to live in a neighborhood I won’t feel comfortable in, living in an apartment that is no bigger than a closet. An opportunity for living opened up in Old San Juan. Fuck it! Why not? This city will always be here waiting for me with an icy embrace should I return.

And besides, if Puerto Rico was good enough for Hunter S. Thompson, it’s good enough for me!

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