lulu.com remains ReTaRDeD

Global distribution for my art book (((Chupacabra Disco))) was rejected because of the cover text. "Art by Misti Rainwater" was deemed unacceptable by The Retarded Powers That Be at lulu.com. Here is the new revised cover. And here is a new coLLaGe.

xxx MISTI xxx
 

MANKATO is PLeaSeD

Mankato is pleased with the final revised editions of SLOBBER and STUNT COCK. He suggests you purchase copies of both poetry collections immediately. You will thoroughly enjoy.

xxx MISTI xxx

 

COFFEE PIZZA SHARK

Yes. You can have it all, especially in Siem Reap where coffee pizza sandwiches burger hotdog chicken wing shark can be purchased with pocket change across the street from Fujiyama BOM-BA-YE. Do not forget your poncho. Bring your favorite iPhone so that you can post pictures on Instagram. People want to see your food, especially the noodles.

Stay in America. Stay in the United States. Stay in San Francisco. Stay in Dallas. Stay in San Antonio. Stay in Sedona. Stay in Tucson. Stay in Seattle. Stay in Queens. Stay in New Orleans. Stay in Miami. Stay in macaroni and cheese. Stay in white cream gravy. Stay in Coke Zero. Stay in Great Value ginger ale. Stay in Jesus. Stay in Black Friday sale. Stay in Mariah Carey Xmas Land. Stay in a dozen or more variations of Warm Vanilla Sugar in Bath & Body Works. Stay in Planet Fitness. Stay in trailer park. Stay in barrio. Stay in ghetto. Stay in Happy Meal. Stay in The Sun WILL Come Out TOMORROW. Stay in bottom dollar. Stay in Vote Democrat. Stay in karmic preschool.

So much noiSe to choose from! Gee, Wally. A bitch can get confused! Sloan Bella says Dolly Parton will reincarnate as Taylor Swift's first baby. Might be a girl, not sure. Her name will be Diamond Extravaganza or something eerily similar. Sloan Bella says Jay-Z and Beyonce are busy worker bees in The Beast System. Also. Mark David Chapman was a vessel. Also. Paul McCartney died in the Sixties. He was replaced by a clone. Not an exact replica but close enough. Still puts on a good enough show. 

I make my own noiSe. I drink black coffee. I watch the frigate birds soar above the coconut trees. I play at artist. I play at tarot. I play at writer. I watch "Little House on The Prairie" and "Cheaters" with David. That is all you need to know.
 

GAY AS FUCK

"Gay as fuck," David muttered a few minutes ago. He didn't get much sleep last night and he wasn't feeling the whole leg day thing. But finally he said, "Fuck it." He decided to forge ahead with his leg day regimen.

Tuesday, Martes, is ruled (or sponsored, as I like to say) by Mars. There isn't anything gay about Mars. David is an Aries (MARS) with Capricorn (Saturn) rising and a Gemini (Mercury) moon. Mercury is definitely gay. Jupiter? Gay as fucking HELL. Mars is not gay and neither is Saturn. Venus? Yeah, gay. Neptune? GAY. Uranus? Of course it's gay! Pluto is in the closet. If Pluto is gay it's none of your goddamn business.

Back to the salt mines. And by salt mines I mean shuffling tarot cards for clients, making noiSe for my vaRiouS YouTube channels, creating designs for my swooncaKe storefront and writing at least a hundred words for Retarded Beyond Redemption.

Be gay. Don't be gay. Jesus thinks you're okay either way.

xxx MISTI xxx
 

RETARDED

I woke up this morning eager to share my dream with David. I dreamed I was flying private from L.A. to Las Vegas. I was awestruck by the experience. Leather seats! Rich people! No problems! As soon as the private jet landed in Las Vegas, Nevada I hauled ass to the library. I was taking pictures with my iPhone and sending the pictures of the interior of the Las Vegas library to various people. "Look where I am, bitches! I'm inside the LAS VEGAS LIBRARY! Rocks being ME! Sucks being YOU!" I had no memory of how I actually got to the library and this bothered me. Was it UBER? Was it a basic bitch taxi? I could not recall. 

David's response was not the response I was hoping for. I hoped he would say something like, "I love how your mind works, baby. You're unlike any woman I have ever known. What do you do when you arrive in Vegas in your dreams? Do you go to the casinos? Do you go to the pool? Do you go to Carrot Top's show at the Luxor? No, baby. You go to the library! God, I love you!"

What did the poet formerly known as David C. McLean actually say? He said, "America's dead."

America is not dead. As I write this people in the United States of America are swimming in pools, eating ice cream and pizza and Fritos and hot dogs and sushi and bacon cheeseburgers and kale salad, going to concerts, buying comic books and batteries and vibrators and curtains and rugs and candles and spatulas and Dolly Parton t-shirts, riding the subway, plunging toilets, taking phone calls from irate Verizon customers, killing cockroaches, walking poodles and shooting cops. People are still paying slot machines in Las Vegas, Laughlin, Reno and even Atlantic City to give them terrible news. "Nope. You're still broke, bitch."

The United States of America definitely still has a pulse and so do I. I'm eager to collaborate with David on our next two books, Retarded Beyond Redemption and Participation Prize. It was David's idea, I cannot take the credit for this one, to create a retard trilogy. The retard trilogy began with RETARD PENIS. How old are we? David is sixteen. I am twelve. We are genius retards. This is the noise I will listen to while writing the next two books with my big cock Aries man. Bye.

 

SLOBBER on the RETARD PENIS

David and I were thrilled to receive our copies of SLOBBER and RETARD PENIS in today's post. The revised copies are in transit and will be promoted once received. Here are reviews from Stella and Mankato (the best gift David has ever given me, an iguana plushie...I named him Mankato after the town visited often in "Little House on The Prairie"):

"Slobber makes Stella HAPPY because Slobber is full of LOVE. Retard Penis makes Stella LAUGH because it is so stupid! Ha! Ha! Ha ha HA!"

"I could not be bothered to read either book but I dig the covers. My name is Mankato. I see. I watch. I observe. Fuck off."

Here is a poem from SLOBBER:

power outage

we lie here sweat ecstatic because mourning is inadvertent ghosts &
she swings her legs above her like memory & writes rants in the air 
like an ambitious dictator

it is hotter & i swallow pasta & cheese because muscle does not grow
nowhere & this is home now, every future ghost

DAVID RAINWATER

And some kind of retarded prose from RETARD PENIS:

THROWING SPAGHETTI

Hi, Steven. I’m glad your mother had the presence of mind to name you STEVEN rather than STEPHEN. So yeah, I just wanted to state for the record that I’ve been throwing spaghetti against the wall since approximately 1979 when I carried a portable tape recorder around the house and made up skits and songs and interviewed babysitters. There was purity to my intent. I was five. I was six. I wanted to communicate with the world. I thought I had something to share, something valuable. It’s 2026 now and I’m still communicating. I’m still spitting into any available microphone. I’m spitting for the girl who was five the girl who was six. I’m spitting for my son. I’m spitting for Mia Zapata. I’m spitting for the America I never had the America I deeply loved and lost the America I repeat the America the goddamn beautiful majestic America I never had. I’m spitting for the Grand Canyon which I have only seen in photographs, movies, vaguely remembered dreams. I never had America. I never had the Grand Canyon. I never had the redwoods of the Pacific Northwest. I never had Big Sur. I never had San Francisco. I never had Hollywood. I never had Malibu. I never had Brooklyn. I never had Chicago. I never had Boston. I never had Key West. I’ve spit into various microphones to sporadic applause. I’ve been seen I’ve been heard I’ve been witnessed. But see, Steven, the thing is, Leo is my twelfth house and I’ve got an anaretic Aquarius sun that doesn’t make any significant aspects. I wasn’t born to shine. They taught me that song when I was a kid and I sang it and carried it all the way to my fifth decade. This little light of mine. I’m gonna let it shine. But my shine is small and that’s how God wants it to be and so it is. David just sent me a meme he sends memes often. What is Searched MORE? Hentai. The Quran or the BIBLE. Another song they taught me. The B-I-B-L-E. Yes that’s the book for ME. I stand upon The Word of GOD the B-I-B-L-E. The Bible didn’t have much value when I was carrying a fetus in my womb in 1996 crying until I had no tears left knowing I was alone alone alone and that was very much my problem to solve. I suck at algebra, Steven. I suck at solving problems. In a world where the most popular Google searches are HENTAI, Quran and BIBLE my worth is zero. Yet I continue to splatter my spaghetti against the walls of the indifferent world. Hi. My name is Kilgore Trout. There’s purity to obscurity. Big Business Monkey. Everything’s money. RIP, Daniel Johnston. He wasn’t obscure at all thanks to MTV and Kurt Cobain yet he remained pure. “Walking The Cow” remains deeply embedded in my broken choir girl heart. I sang in a few different choirs, not terribly well. They never asked me to sing solo in Kelview Heights Baptist Church. Tim Hale, Libra, sang solo. I had a mild crush on Tim. I had a much bigger crush on Matt Hale (Leo), his little brother who was a year older than me. Their father, Russ Hale (Scorpio) (the youth pastor), visited me in the hospital when I was in labor with my firstborn, the daughter I could not keep. Whenever Russ Hale sang “How Great Thou Art” I got chills all over. He was better than Elvis. How great is my art? Who decides? Who judges? Who makes the call? Who assigns the gold stars across my chart? I have this insane compulsion to continue to share. Great, not great, terrible, god awful, shit, gold. Whatever, man. Mercury is my chart ruler (Virgo rising) and it’s smack dab in the middle of my seventh house and it makes several aspects. So I continue to spit. I’m Cougar Ketchup. I’m Sally Mayonnaise. I’m Roxi Xmas. I’m Ginger Todger. I’m Chupacabra Disco. I’m Zero Bueno. I’m Lescarius. I’m Marshmallow Witch. I’m Cult Yoga. I’m Swooncake Press. I’m Swooncake Records. I’m Noise Spit. Someday I’ll be dead. Doesn’t matter. The spitting will continue.

MISTI RAINWATER

 

SLUT MOON

Is it Libra season yet? Not quite, cupcake.

Gracias to David for putting "SLUT MOON" together for me and releasing it on Bandcamp. 

Yes, AI definitely needs a rebranding. I concur. Let's go with RI. Rhode Island might get mad about it but Rhode Island can get over it, already.

RI. Regurgitated Intelligence. Retarded Intelligence. Ratchet Intelligence. Get on it. Chop. Chop.

xxx Misti xxx