CRYING SATURN GUITAR

I recorded my fourth album, "Crying Saturn Guitar," yesterday when the moon was waxing in Capricorn and I was crying. David uploaded it to Bandcamp today. Snatch it up. Get healthy, rich and happy. (((suBLiMiNaL)))

 

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.

 

swooncaKe coLLaGe

STELLA watches out the window for Dada not realizing she's facing the wrong direction. 
The window above the kitchen sink faces west.
Dada could be seen walking home from the market from the bedroom window, which faces east.

We are all retarded.

This swooncaKe coLLaGe was created only a few minutes ago. You may purchaSe.

This might very well be clickbait noiSe but at least it isn't ragebait noiSe or even worse, tardbait noiSe.
 

TROPICAL WINDOW // SATURATED

+ dream noiSe

 

TAROT NADA

People have all kinds of idiotic ideas about tarot. Tarot is EVIL. Tarot is SATANIC. If you consult a deck of tarot cards JESUS will CRY. I call bullshit. But. On the flip side there are people who believe tarot is some kind of magical tool that will save your fucking life. I think people give entirely too much power to something that is, in the 21st century, mass produced and available at the website that owns the planet (as well as ETSY where baby witches go to die). The Ouija board never scared me, either. I'd go to slumber parties when I was a kid in Wichita Falls, Texas where there was always at least one little bitch who would burst into tears whenever the Ouija board was brought out.

My favorite quote of all time is attributed to Gertrude Stein and is available on pillows and coffee mugs at Redbubble.

There ain't no answer.
There ain't gonna be any answer.
There never has been an answer.
That's the answer.

All that being said, I've made a decent amount of money with tarot cards since 2019. I have two monetized YouTube channels and a roster of clients. A few days ago a subscriber asked about a deck I created a few years ago. I'd deleted the design and all others from my storefront. Well, the subscriber inspired me to create a new deck. Here it is. Tarot Nada. Gertrude Stein (Aquarian) is the Queen of Swords.

 

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.

 

PERSONALIZED PET PHOTO PILLOW

This personalized pet photo bullshit is pissing me off beyond all reason. ENOUGH.
This has inspired me to write my next piece for Retarded Beyond Redemption, my latest collaboration with the Aries who dicks me down on a regular basis.

For some reason known only by God the above photo brings this song to mind. I guess it's actually a pretty obvious association. Unless you're retarded beyond redemption. But if you want to be a millionaire by Halloween you should be listening to this. BYE.

 

TODAY'S ATTEMPTS

 

it's not a coffee mug

you'll come running bacK

GET YOUR CANDY

GET YOUR CANDY

 

BOTCHED

BOTCHED

 

TEMU uNiTed STaTeS

everything must go

 

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

 

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.

 

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

 

NEW WOMAN

/

Who's the NEW WOMAN? You's the new woman. You's the NEW WOMAN, baby! You is saturated satiated complicated celebrated dedicated decorated congratulated NEVER constipated never frustrated never denigrated. Pass the pink glitter and splash it on Twitter. Don't be bitter. A new day dawns with you on top where you belong like a Shania Twain/Dolly Parton/Dottie West SONG.

 

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
 

HAMBURGER HELPER

I CAN'T DRIVE 55!!! Lately I've had it in my head that I am 55 years old, although I know deep down I am 53. I turn 54 on February 17, 2027 at 6:29 p.m. For the astrologically curious this means that I have sun and Venus in Aquarius, Virgo rising and Virgo moon, Mars in Capricorn and Mercury in Pisces. I might possibly be retarded but I'm sparkly about it like Dolly Parton but not as famous and flamboyant. Also, by all reports Dolly Parton was a sweet as hell down to earth gal. That is not my flavor. Do not fuck with my Hamburger Helper. I'm pretty intense about my food. Maybe that's my Pluto in Libra in the second house square my Mars in Capricorn in the fifth. I am not sure. Yesterday David was in the bathroom and I was in the bedroom and we both spied a couple of frigate birds fighting over a piece of food while in flight. It was stunning to behold and I could certainly relate. I felt that shit.

I have never consumed Hamburger Helper of my own volition. They probably fed it to me at least a couple of times when I was a kid but I have no memory of this. I do recall loathing sloppy joes. I didn't mind fried spam sandwiches, especially if they came with Fritos. I remember the amazing cinnamon rolls they fed us on occasion in the cafeteria at Jefferson Elementary in Wichita Falls, Texas. They were huge and messy as hell. I fucking loved those things. The other night I was craving Cheetos but I did not ask David to walk to the store and buy me a bag. I fought my demons and won. 

For the past month or so David has been informing me how dire things are in the States. I've got my headphones on, I'm making noise and Redbubble designs, and he's telling me this prepper said this and that prepper said that. Shit is DIRE. The empire is on FIRE. Keep in mind I spent the first 53 years of my life in the United States of America, mostly in Texas. Which states did I reside in or spend a few weeks here and there in? Texas. New Mexico. Louisiana. South Carolina. New York. Oklahoma. California. I only had Texas and New Mexico driver's licenses as I spent years of my life in those two states, but I was proud as hell of my San Francisco library card. I lived on Clayton Street off Haight for one month in 2013. I had the food stamp experience, the WIC experience, the disability experience, the financial aid experience, the hurricane evacuation experience, the tornado experience, the psych ward experience, the root canal experience, the writing hot checks in a few different states while on a road trip experience, the shoplifting experience, the driving while under the influence experience, the emergency room experience, the urgent care experience, the giving birth experience, the topless dancing experience, the finding a place to live on Craig's List experience, the sorority experience, the being bullied experience, the being invisible experience, the gated subdivision experience, the trailer house experience, the being kicked out of a house experience, the being kicked out of a hotel experience, the no hot water for one month experience, the Coinstar experience, the garage sale experience, the flea market experience, the donating plasma experience, the living on ramen experience, the writing for a small town newspaper experience, the starting a small business with a deck of cards experience, the singing with the band in a downtown San Antonio bar experience, the selling art in San Antonio experience, the marriage experience, the divorce experience, the sobbing in a hair salon experience, the cutting my own hair off experience, the Paxil experience, the Prozac experience, the asthma experience, the menorrhagia experience, the precancerous cells on the cervix experience, the gossiping shit talking cousins experience, the karaoke experience, the casual gross regrettable horrible sex experience, the rape experience, the open mic experience, the alcohol poisoning experience, the shopping drunk in Walmart experience, the buying helium balloons in Family Dollar experience, the buying candy and makeup in Five Below experience, the getting fingered while sitting on a bench overlooking the Guadalupe River in Kerrville, Texas experience. You get the goddamn gist. Oh. Yeah. I was dunked in water in a few different churches in Texas and Louisiana. Yay Jesus. Goddamn right I had the Sunday school/vacation bible school/church camp experience. Did. I. Stutter.

So the preppers are sitting in their parked vehicles or on their sunlit porches talking about stocking up on duct tape, various tools, flour, canned beans, batteries, water, etcetera. SHTF. They are preparing for when the SHIT HITS THE FAN. Data centers breaking the grid? Armageddon? Zombie apocalypse? We watched "Civil War" the other night. I cannot imagine anything remotely similar happening in my lifetime. I could certainly be wrong.

Since leaving San Antonio in April I have experienced intense pangs of homesickness, even though I was miserable most of the time. I've asked David some variation of If Things Get Better Can We Go There Can We Live There We Could Go To Colorado We Could Go To Nevada Can We Live Together in The Country of My Birth. David isn't feeling it. He's lived in the UK, Sweden, Finland, Indiana...and now Belize. He has zero love for the United States of America. He asks me if I want to go back and eat trash food and die slow, my body falling apart, having numerous surgeries until I finally die. Doesn't sound too appealing, no. But goddamn. I still love Cheetos and Dr. Pepper and Snickers. McDonald's coffee is the best. The McDonald's black coffee with an apple pie and a bacon egg cheese biscuit is the best fucking breakfast on the planet. Fight me, bitch. I hated the food in the UK. I was ecstatic to finally find a Subway. Yeah, the Domino's pizza was good but they put corn on it. What in the actual fuck of all fuck??? 

We've been on this island since May. David makes better tacos than any Mexican. He makes damn decent fried rice. Also. He has a huge cock. "It's not just that I have a huge cock. I go hard or go home. You've said it yourself. 'I had to cross the pond to get fucked properly.'" Quite.

I checked walmart.com on a whim to see how dire things are. I scribbled notes in the floral journal I purchased in San Pedro a few months ago. Here is the raw data:

Rollbacks & More

must-haves for less

12 pack Cherry Dr. Pepper $6.97

Hamburger Helper Cheesy Ranch Burger +20 options $1.48

Monster Energy Ultra Variety Pack LIBERTY 12 pack $21.58

Frito-Lay Flavor Mix Snack Chips Variety 18 Pack $8.97

Little Debbie Fall Pumpkin Delights 8 Count $3.16

Tree Hut Tropic Glow Whipped Shea Body Butter $9.97

Reese's Assorted Milk Chocolate Snack Size Peanut Butter Shapes PUMPKINS GHOSTS BATS 9 oz bag $5.57

Great Value LARGE white eggs 12 count $1.67

Great Value 1% Low-fat chocolate milk half gallon 64 fl oz $1.82

Great Value Soft & Strong Premium Toilet Paper 36 MEGA ROLLS (380 sheets per roll) $19.67

Verizon iPhone 18 Pro 256GB Burgundy $31.92/month 36 months 

85% Lean/15% Fat Angus Ground Beef Steak Burgers 12 count 4 lb. tray $24.97

Aria Women's Lightweight Cotton Woven 50" Ballet Nightgown sizes xs-5X Bright White Vine Blue Floral $11.72

Well. Godspeed, my fellow Americans. See ya on the other side.

xxx Misti Velvet xxx