LATEST RETARD BOOK

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, RETARDS!!!

Eat some Snickers, crank the noiSe & BUY THIS BOOK.

MuchaS GRaCiaS as always to David, my genius retard partner in crime.

In the words of Benjamin Franklin, in increasingly retarded times it is imperative to be criminally vulgar.

 

BeTTeR THAN CANDY

better on canvas

genius prose

slightly ReTaRDeD PRoSe

suBLiMiNaL noiSe

 

BLACK FRIDAY FANTASY BRA

Yeah. I don't get it. Oh empire wide & glorious, you have supremely failed.

But don't lose faith, pilgrim. You can & should buy these terribly truthful books to flaunt & devour while everyone around you is busy being retarded beyond redemption:

STUNT COCK

FLESH & RESURRECTION

ZERO BUENO

conFeSsioN

I confess. I adore this process.
Oh this group of people hates this group of people and fires are burning here and a hurricane is raging there and thoughts and prayers for latest school shooting and our hearts are with the families of the victims of the latest gated subdivision horror story and this execution was terribly botched and that execution was livestreamed and this war and these pockets bulging with blood money and JESUS IS COMING BACK (he better hurry his ass UP, won't be much left by the time he arrives) and another celebrity overdose (TRAGIC) and another outburst on another American airplane and the newest latte flavor (exciting) and the newest autumn candle (most exciting thing in several years) and another Taylor Swift album (throw a party, bake cupcakes) and oh my god the tiger ate him up and oh yay another poetry collection that references Bukowski and I'm over here strumming my out of tune electric guitar purchased in a sketchy warehouse in Belize City snapping shots of snowy egrets on the roof writing down the bones (they are legion) playing with scissors and tape and having the audacity to call it ART. Excuse me while I lick the clouds from the unapologetically azure sky.

 

THROW A PILLOW

Throw this pillow at someone you deeply adore.

Hang this poster above your computer.

The word on the street is that Jesus saves so you don't have to.

Yesterday I did something I had not done in a very long time. I created a tarot deck. It will be available for sale once The Powers That Be approve my deck, which I created using Canva Pro. I'm a professional. I wake up, eat JIF extra crunchy from the jar with a ripe banana, drink black coffee and get to work. The wheel of fortune does not play favorites but Saturn does. I've got gold stars across my little chart.

 

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.
 

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

 

cherry coke + magic 8 ball + trash lit

Hi. My name is Misti Velvet Rainwater and I am a product of my environment. My mother had a copy of this novel when I was in my formative years. Damn right I devoured it. I also devoured her copies of a sleazy women's magazine (cannot recall the title) that included women's true stories of sex in various places. I was most excited by the story about having sex underneath a raincoat on a bus. I could not wait to grow up so I could have such an experience. I never had sex underneath a raincoat on a bus. But...read Fuckerbutt Happy Time. I wrote about all the horrible sex I had in San Antonio, Texas. It isn't as profound or as deep as anything Henry Miller or Erica Jong wrote but a bitch tries. I come here to provide links. I am always working.

I make noiSe.

I SAID I MAKE NOISE.

I am deeply in love with David. We are getting married in Capricorn season 2027.

I'm going to pee now.

p.S. I recall the name of the magazine. It was NEW WOMAN. You can find back issues at eBay.

PERFECTED VERSIONS

Tonight David and I created perfected versions of our first three books (STUNT COCK, SLURP and SLOBBER) instead of watching "Cheaters." New covers pictured above. The changes made to the SLURP cover were minimal. I shouldn't have to say it but these books make excellent stocking stuffers, better than anything you'll find at Five Below or Family Dollar. I'm going to eat a bowl of grapes and watch "Cheaters" now.

p.s. you can hang this on a wall

p.p.s. it's a chaotic skull collage tote bag
 

The 100 GREATEST BooKS eVeR wRiTTeN

This post was inspired by a conversation I had with David this morning after recording my latest pick a card reading. I referenced The Color Purple in the reading and David asked me if I was serious. Yes. I'm serious. Quite. I love the novel and I love the film. Kiss my white (with a dash of Creole) ass.

So I made this noiSe track and listed my 100 favorite books in the description box. David vehemently disagrees with MOST of my choices. He's especially disgusted by Bukowski and Lester Bangs. Fair enough. If you haven't purchased the first 22 books on the list you kind of suck. Just joking. But I am dismayed by your lack of interest and I am a bit hurt. I'll live.

 

SIMPLE PLEASURES

"I'm not a complicated man. I like cinema. In particular, I like to see people fucking on film. I like simple pleasures, like butter in my ass and lollipops in my mouth."

("Boogie Nights"/Floyd Gondolli)

My heart has been heavier than usual lately, what with the death of Dolly Parton, power outages on the island and trouble receiving books from lulu.com. A bitch cannot catch a break. I'd been putting off watching "Little House on The Prairie" with David for quite some time as I knew it would make me emotional. But finally I said, "Fuck it. If I watch another episode of 'Cheaters' I'm going to stab my eyes out with a fork. Little House it is."

We watched a two part episode involving Adam and Mary, a happily married blind couple until Adam had the balls to regain his sight and fuck shit up. I was repulsed by Adam in the first part (season seven, cannot recall the number of the episodes). He was acting like an egomaniac simply because he could see again. I've been seeing for 53 years, big deal. So he gets the big idea he's going to become a lawyer. He stops paying attention to Mary, she gets hurt. Sad stuff but I could deal. Then in the second part Adam makes the trek to Minneapolis to take the bar exam. Returning to his hotel room one night after eating dinner with a rich friend he gets mugged and beaten unconscious. I said, "I can see where this is going. He's going to lose his sight again. God is punishing him for being a dick to Mary." Not exactly. Sure, Adam ends up in the hospital and has a hell of a headache but he can still see. However, he does miss the bar exam. When Mary comes to Minneapolis to visit Adam at his bedside and Adam starts expressing his vulnerability ("bitch is feeling sorry for himself," David muttered in disgust), I lost it. Tears streamed from my eyes. David asked if I was joking. I was not.

"He can't catch a break. I can relate," I said.

I was inspired enough to consult Wikipedia. No, Mary never actually got married. Adam was pure fiction. Still, I know there are people all over the world in similar situations and it breaks my goddamn heart.

So this morning during sex I decided to liven things up by pretending to be Mary. "Pa? Pa, is that you? I can't see. What are you doing to me, Pa? I wasnt expecting...this."

To my surprise, David lost his erection and the sex came to a screeching halt. I guess our days of roleplay are over. The bloom is OFF the rose, as they say.

 

BEST BOOK EVER PUBLISHED

It's subjective, of course, and I'm biased, but the best book ever published is not THE KING JAMES BIBLE or The Grapes of Wrath or The Great Gatsby or Sweet Valley High #1: DOUBLE LOVE. No ma'am. No sir. The best book ever published is RETARD PENIS. Here is an excerpt:

I was sitting in a booth at the McDonald’s on Fredericksburg Road slurping melted ice cream when Debbie began bombarding me with text messages. I didn’t have time for her bullshit so I turned off my piece of shit Samsung Galaxy and soaked in the bliss of the moment, slurping melted vanilla ice cream looking out the window at the Tower of The Americas hazy in the distance. Sometimes I love living in this city. I donated plasma three days ago so I can afford this treat.

Debbie writes poems about me, says she’s in love, but I just enjoy fucking her on occasion with my basic American five inch cock. I don’t delude myself. The best I can hope for is a mediocre sex life with a bat shit crazy poet covered in ugly tattoos and the occasional McDonald’s or Dairy Queen or Sonic treat. I work as a cashier at the Five Below on the upper level of Wonderland. I’ve never taken an IQ test but I’m probably a few points above retarded. Not severely retarded. Functioning retarded, like most Texan Americans.

(title of the piece is DUMPING DEBBIE)

 

BUILD A BRAND

 

 

coconuts 

 

bananas 

 cherries

LIMES 

GeTTiNG DoMiNo'S eVeRY niGHT // sex is aLRiGHT

 

 

 

People are buying pizza from Domino's and socks from Dollar Tree and burgers from Wendy's and orange chicken from Panda Express and batteries from Dollar General and flags from Tractor Supply and onion rings from Dairy Queen and vibrators and panties and tarot decks and faux leather bondage chokers from the website that owns the planet. People are buying Super Cherry Extra and STUNT COCK (expurgated & unexpurgated) and Fuckerbutt Happy Time and Bullshit Rodeo. Gracias, babies. GRACIAS.

xxxxxxxx oo xxxxxxx