Friday, March 16, 2012

An Interview w/ Christopher Pierce Nelms on a fateful eve long, but not too long ago

Name: Christopher Pierce Nelms

Street Address (Name of your street) ex: Miss Nantahala/Miss Baxter st:
Wilkerson st

Talent (for the pageant):
Squirrel Cooking, asking people to sit on my fucking face
Soccer moms with dead-hedgehog-pompoms, Bristol Palin's military industrial complex of guilt, dippin dots &
mopeds dis da Myrtle beach ain't no snow sleds, fingernail clippings,
airmail shippings, cowtippings, airbrush art, crabcake farts, not
taking part in lemon tarts, epilepsy, Wayne Gretzky, Diet Pepsi, jet
skis and house keys, turtles of a shell go to jail, birds of a feather
pop & lock together, wheelchairs and bear-snares, how some people treat
their wife like a piece of technology, silky mud and milky duds, black
holes and lacking wholes, strip malls and hairy pool balls,

University Major/Job/whatever you r doing now:
 Lemon Squeezer (till the juice runs down the leg)

Career Goals:
Buy a real super nice house that uses lots of  nonsustainable resources, raise some ungrateful idiot children just because I’m bored, stock the house with posed photos of my ungrateful idiot children and my wife with the Botox face, buy the idiot kidzzz all kindsa gadgets and cybernetic ponies, fuck my wife only on anniversaries and New Year’s morning, meet Morrissey, make my wife’s death look like an accident for insurance money, collaborate with Morrisey on inventing the word that’s more than needed as well as the assassination of Glenn Beck by flamingo-dildo, kill Morrissey in Antarctica so he doesn’t start getting all guilted up and snitch us out, live with some Siberian nomads, realize I’ve wasted my life, and die before I get a chance to make a half-hearted attempt to redeem myself by doing something generous or noble.

Volunteer Work:

Peeps can’t do nuthin’ voluntarily no mo.

Opinion on Katherine Heigl:
When I was a primordial ooze of pubescence aged 15 & 16, Heigl (whose
last name kinda rhymes with the hated philosopher, Hegel) was in a WB teen
supernatural drama called "Roswell" with some dude who had really big
ears and close-knit eyebrows reminiscent of Oliver the Humanzee.  I
thought her breasts seemed soft as rust and I wanted my face to be a
boat plunging through the Panama Canal of her cleavage.  Somewhere
around that time she was in a terrible slasher film with David
Boreanaz and Denise Richards called Valentine.  I rented it with four
friends I played football with because supposedly Denise Richards was
in a bath scene, with totally bare legs and possibly, if one could
believe the extravagant rumors, some shadowy sideboob.  I totez found
Heigl more attractive, in her poor man's, and therefore better man's,
Scarlet Johansen kinda way.  Following her early career of shite,
Heigl was in a bunch more shite that wasn't too different from the
shite which came before it in texture, smell, or solidity; however,
Heigl was in that movie "Knocked Up" which was mildly offensive and a
little better than most Hollywood movies which are completely
offensive.  Heigl acknowledged "Knocked Up" was mildly offensive shite
but since so many people were used to completely offensive shite there
was this whole shitey backlash against Heigl for being some sorta
feminist, when really anyone who wasn't a complete rotten onion-ass of
shite could've seen that Judd Apatow's portrayals of women were a
whole tripe-type of trite shite for the mouth of America so used to
eating shite it no longer had teeth with intellectual enamel enough to

What Sex & the City Character are you most like? Why?
I didn't know that show had characters, but in case it did, I think I
have the character of some character's uncomfortable chair.  I'm like
an uncomfortable chair because I want to touch you and I want you to
sit on my face, but I don't want your pleasure in sitting on my face
to be totally filmed with a soft-focus lens.

Favorite Color:

I'm not racist.

Favorite mythological creature:
God, Chester Cheeto, James Brown, a well-behaved dog, someone totally in love.

Cheez-it or Cheez Nip?

Cheese on nipples.

Favorite Cheese:

Television cheese.

Favorite Animal:
Waterbears. Lipid Gophers. My Shake & Bake Stove-Top stuffing turkey
named Stouffer's.

Favorite American Hero:

Tina Turner.  Ted Bundy.  Kool Keith. John Wayne Gacy.  Marlboro man.
Rosa Parks.

Favorite Sauce:

Sparks energy drink.  Glenn Beck's brain matter.  Sarah Palin's
waterboarded tears mixed in the battery acid of the God's honest
truth. Mayonnaise from my own dead eyesocket of happiest grief.

Favorite Curse Word:

Anything someone says that's polite.

Describe your ideal first date:
My ideal first date would be the last and best date with a nice piece of jailbait who didn’t forget to bring the tacklebox full of her fishbait. Jkjkjkjkjk.  ROFLCOPTER
I’d invent a time-machine, go back to 1981, meet Marina Abramovic somewhere cold, so she and I would have to wear jackets, and  I would say, “If you don’t punch me in the face with a kiss like a canary shot down in the coalmine of poisonous hope, I am going to kill myself with kindness, for I desire you for a window upon which my bones and eyes’ll always break.  Most people go thru life trying to protect a swatch of dignity they never had, but like playdough-placenta I want to fall down your heart’s elevator shaft, so c’mere, lemme tralala you, I’ll make some sloppy joes and you please, whatever you have to do…”  And then she would punch with me in the face with a kiss and the mouthguard of my mind would fall out, bloody and wet with the forgiveness of saliva, all over the wintry boxing ring of love.

What qualities should Princess Avenue possess?
Like a new pencil, sentiment should not be to the point, but if there
is a point, let it be the organic & locally grown product of fresh ink
toner applied to the photocopies of happiness we're each wearing,
Scotch-taped, over the hole-punched blank places of our wide-ruled

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