DOG BOSS

“Try to remember the best day of your entire life…the sparkle and confidence you had” said the narrator of The Dog Whisperer’s audiobook (NOT The Dog Whisperer, it’s worth noting, or even a guy with a Mexican accent). I scanned my memories of days and was a little disappointed with the “best” I pulled. Definitely wouldn’t have announced it as my best day back then.
“Draw from your memories of that day when you’re walking your dog” said the narrator. “The dog likes it when you’re CONFIDENT and DOMINANT (American accent, don’t forget!) because you’re the ALPHA.”
Okaaaaay I thought.  
I was taking my new dog for a spin down 40th Street. For years, everyone in my life’d been telling me to get a dog. That’s what happens when you’re a loser for too long. Concerned relatives analyze your life and think this guy needs something to love him or he’s going to do something gnarly. It hurts. Every time they  suggested it I’d think to myself HEY, FUCK, YOU! but passive aggressive people love it when you get mad at their shitty little remarks, so I just got a dog.
“No no no no no” said an ugly old woman passing me and my dog on the crosswalk. The dog was doing something she didn’t like.  “What’s the matter with you?”  
“It’s not my dog,” I said. “He comes from a violent background.”
That was probably true enough. My entire life, I’d been the type of guy who’d claim the thing no one wanted (black licorice, middle seat, bread heel) and convince himself it was cool just to avoid the hassle of competition. This mindset is what’d lead me to the dog pound, and to this type of dog: an aggressive pitbull.
Not to retread old trodden, treads (for me), but can you believe they’re giving those things away? Pitbulls are the best type of dog! They’re cute AND scary in equal measure! This one wasn’t exactly, shall I say, Amores Perros strong, but you never know. I named hime Lance, after Lance Fusco from The Fusco Brothers.
“You shouldn’t let him shit all over the street like that.” said the woman.
“COME, LANCE” I said, conjuring my best day. Lance was many steps ahead of me, though. In fact, he was pulling me. I was on roller blades, a la The Dog Whisperer, and he was towing.
WHOOOOSH we went, leaving the old nag in our wake.
We were approaching a red light.
Lance picked up speed.  
“SLOW DOWN” I said.
Run run run, went the feet. Good thing I was so fat.
“LANCE, SIT” I said, desperate-firm.
I gently applied the rollerblades’ heel brake to no avail. Wobbles. Desperately, I brainstormed more stopping ideas: Jump into some grass….Throw change at the dog…Get tangled in another dog’s leash….
In the end, I went with something similar to that third plan. I maneuvered so I was next to Lance and when he went right around a pole I went left. The leash stopped us. Lance gasped as the collar dug into his throat.
“CHAHCaaghgahghaghGHGH.”
 I gasped too, but regained my bearings quicker than he and tied him to the pole. Better let the engine cool down a little I thought, leaving Lance there and walking back to my apartment alone.
Good old apartment #2. It was a sparse, masculine place with no windows or wall art. I opened the freezer and took out a big steak. It was for Lance. I don’t know if you know anything about dogs but pitbulls like big, juicy steaks. Mmmm I thought, looking at the steak. I’m gonna have a steak, too.
While the steaks were thawing I went to my bedroom to get some sleeping pills. These were supposed to be for the dog too, but again I felt inspired and popped a few myself. What the hell.
I jacked off twice and the steaks were ready. Hungrily, I cooked mine (rare), crammed pills into the dog’s and re-emerged into the outdoors, high on life and pills and dog ownership (which is the same thing as power, maybe?!) Lance had in fact cooled down a little but when he saw the steak he perked right back up. I remembered reading that you’re supposed to start eating before your dog starts eating, so I halted just outside of leash range and took a big performative bite.
WRONG STEAK! I’d bitten into Lance’s—the raw one with pills in it. I retched and threw the meat at Lance.
He seemed to love it.
The pills were kicking in for me now. I felt even heavier and funnier than usual. Very loving towards my new animal son. Look at my strong, manly boy, rippin’ that flesh I thought. My Amores Pero. My little alpha.
“Slow down boy!” I said good naturedly, knowing he wouldn’t listen.
Slurch slurch slurch.
“Ha ha! You don’t stop for nobody!”  I said.
That’s when my big thought hit.
I like it when he’s CONFIDENT and DOMINANT…because he’s the PACK LEADER.
Why would I be Pack leader? I’m not confident at all!
I took off Lance’s collar. “You are the captain now” I said.
He looked up.
“Lead” I said.
He wasn’t getting it still, so I smacked him on the ass to get him going, and he bit me
“OW, FUCK!” I said.
Lance ran into the street got hit by a car.
I power walked home and hid.

CREEPY TALES

Met this girl, her name was Joanie 

Smelled like a pound of old balogna 

Eiffel towered her with a homie 

Bed was crowded but we all felt lonely

Met this girl, her name was Elizabeth

Did what we did and we both have to live with it 

Everything she said was ignorant 

Wrote her love letters, but she was illiterate

Met this girl, her name was Star

Had a big butt but she looked like Bill Maher

Whenever Star was in my car

A gallon of gas got me less far

Met this girl, her name was Courtney

Used to financially support me 

When I turned 40, she divorced me  

And I burst into tears, there in court-y

HAPPY LIMERICK DAY

Here is the thing, son: You’re passionate
That’s good. But tact? You are lackin it
Orgies take class
You don’t burst in bare-assed
In an old Jason mask and start jackin it

ACTRESS PONDERING THE NIGHT SKY

Like the moon I am
radiant and sexy yet  
cold and unhelpful

RHYMING POEMS ABOUT SEX: Extended Ebook Edition

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DEDICATED TO

Philip G. Taylor, the tightest, most poetry poet in poetry class, who died
The regulars at the Brown Banana Books open mic
Ethan Coen (of The Coen Brothers)
Anyone who likes stupid shit


FUNERAL SPEECH

I’ll tell you this much about Katie:    
She was quite the promiscuous lady
She sometimes had sex
That was very complex
But she never had sex with a baby


TO THE TUNE OF “ONE” BY HARRY NILSSON

X is the sexiest letter in the alphabet
Q is not as hot as X
But in fact it looks a little more like sex


A SONNET FOR TUB GIRL

Her face is not the reason for her fame
Though radiant, it’s seen by precious few
A mystery, just like her real name
Irrelevant to what she came to do  
It’s said Christian Bale commits to a role
And Frances McDormand is fearless  
What, pray, has either one done with their holes?  
Compared to my girl, they are rearless
If Oakley, Annie could shoot with her fanny  
If William Tell’s face was his target
If X-Men were oversexed men and Japan-y     
They’d marvel to see my girl arc it
Some girls are flexible, some girls can spray
Nobody does it like tubgirl.ca
 

GOLD MEDALIST

What scientists wanted to find was
What the smallest dick of all time was
They found, in a thicket
A small baby cricket
But his dick was bigger than mine was


PARANOID  

A nosy young wife was suspecting
Her businessman husband of sexting
Indeed, texts were found
But her fears proved unsound
It was only his friend, Jeffrey Epstein


S.M.H.

On the internet, to my surprise
I found out the government lies
It’s all over Reddit
But I just don’t get it
What kind of man fucks pizza pies?


MISCOMMUNICATION

At Burning Man once, in a tent
I was fucked in the ass by George Wendt
My wife, just that morn
Had yelled “fuck the Norms!”
But now says that’s not what she meant


NAPA ROOTS

I put grapes in her butt (that’s amore!)  
Lie naked, supine, in the foyer
She squats o’er my face and
North Cali wine tastin’
Is what we call step number 4A


FUNERAL SPEECH #2

Playing “cookie game” once, drunk on rum   
Fearing I would be last man to cum  
I pictured your mom
Now she has passed on
But I think she’d be proud that I won


META CRITIC  

Little Jack Horny
Lay there forlornly
With an old man 69ing
He stuck out his tongue
Got blasted with cum
And said “why’s it all icky rhyming?”


THE RHYMING POET’S LAMENT

Limericks and pinner dicks:
They say there’s correlation
Vaginas treat a rhymer
Like a hostile foreign nation
My texts are full of sex  
But the narrator’s not trusted
When I write and recite some
To a girl for whom I’ve lusted
My wordplay’s met with mockery
Derision, smirks and hate
The word gay’s used a lot on me
By those who surf and skate
But who’s more insecure:
The person getting mad at art
Or this old dirty wordsmith
With a song inside his heart?
Long ago I made my choice
That’s why I’m walking tall
Rejoicing in my voice, now
But it’s true, my dick is small


IT’S THE MOTION OF THE OCEAN, NOT...

The complexion of the erection  
The direction of the injection
The position of the emission
The viscosity of the atrocity
The immensity of the gents in me
The size of truck of the guys I fuck
The brevity of the levity
The BPM of the DP men
The diameter of the man in her  
The amount of air in the dinghy


STREET FOOD   

I know an old man from Korea
Makes soup in the back of his Kia
It looks like Nutella
Gives you salmonella
And tastes just like old diarrhea


OPPOSITES ATTRACT

I know an old hippie named Rosco
Who hangs out at rock shows, and rock shows
His weed is sativa
His shoe is a Teva
But his wife is indica/Chaco


SIMPLE MAN

I don’t need to see dildos or plugs
While performing my manual tugs
I can still get a thrill
From a sight as vanill’
As a girl in a cage eating slugs


BOI-OI-OING

My friend told me, while drunk on Coors
That the male sex organ of boars
Is shaped like a corkscrew
And sounds, when they pork you
Like those springs that save walls from doors  


THE BULL & I

My wife thought me, in bed, under-zealous
So she hired some large, muscular fellas
To cuck me, but then
One became a close friend
We hang out without her, and she’s jealous


WEDDING VOWS  

My dick’s like a tick’s, or mosquito’s
Slight in even the tightest of Speedos    
But one look in your eyes
Can expand it in size
From a munchkin’s to Danny DeVito’s  


TELEPHONE

A moth who was interested in sex  
Whispered to me his genre of interest   
I said “xvideos”
He said “That’s hideous!
You misheard--I want porn about insects”  


THE SASSY WAITRESS

I yelled at a waitress named Ronnette
To hurry and make me an omelette
She filled my poor asshole  
With so much Tobasco
The whole Hooter’s wait staff applauded


TO THE TUNE OF “CONSIDER YOURSELF” FROM THE MUSICAL “OLIVER!”

(Please read with the song playing in the background.)

Come diddle yourself / at home / come diddle yourself / for your own sanity / you’ve been horny for / so long / yes, you’ve / been / unlucky with the dong / come diddle yourself / well in / come diddle yourself / all over the furniture / yes, that is the spot / right there / right there! / your / hand and you make a pair / if it should chance to be you should be a lonely one / who is owed a cum / why wait? / always a chance to skeet / nobody can match the thrill / you get when you masturbate! / come diddle yourself / why wait? / there ain’t gotta be / no thrust / they say clitoral stimulation’s good for health / so diddle yourself / till ya bust


BUSTED

I destroyed the receipts and the playbill
My voice, as I lied, sounded stable
But again I got caught
Cause I somehow forgot
The big shit you took on my glass table


NERD HUMOR

My peers call me loser and nerd-o
And I’m always stargazing, ergo
If my sex past
As a star sign were cast
It would, without question, be Virgo  


SOUNDCLOUD GROUPIE
 
Due, I think, to the drugs they ingest
The loving’s not always the best
We have dirty sex
For 1 min, 30 secs
Then their penises get quite depressed


HALLOWEEN (2007)

In a field where the crows never caw
I touched a girl under the bra
The ultimate thrill  
But she stood super still
And her tits felt a lot like wet straw

 
DIRTY D

The mattress was covered in actress
Blood, cigarette butts and matches
As for the back of it?   
Drenched in ejaculate
See, babe? It’s fun doing Mad Libs


ABOUT THE AUTHOR  

Jesse Wilson is the CEO of Brown Banana Books in Grass Valley, CA (brownbananabooks.com). He enjoys reading, writing, freestyle rapping, freestyle swimming, hanging out with friends and watching adult films on his computer. 

WOOK

I was looking so uncommonly fresh that it startled my mom. She’d never seen me like this. (Red jacket, Hawaiian shirt, hat with a bird on it, sunglasses. Great lighting.) 

“Are you going to a party?” she asked. She sounded hopeful, which stung. I was 30 then, living with my rich parents and washing dishes 6 days a week at a sorority in Berkeley. I was surrounded by beautiful, horny girls there, but I looked and felt like shit so I just ogled through a hole in the dishpit and blasted Indestructible Beat of Soweto on my little boombox. 

Things were looking up now, though. Kappa Kappa Gamma  was closed for the summer, and I was about to hike up the mountain and do some drugs. On my last day of work, I’d walked down to People’s Park to give the wooks one last styrofoam container of bisque, and they'd given me 4 gel tabs of acid.

None of my friends would do acid with me, due to my penchant for thinking I was a religious prophet and taking my clothes off, but that was fine.

“It’s not really a party” I told my mom.

“Okaaaay” she said. 

I ascended the mountain on foot, took the acid at the top, right as it was getting dark, and realized suddenly that dark was going to be a major theme of my vision quest. 

Hmm.  

How? I asked the mountain. 

Just...be a creature on the mountain it said. 

I inched my way down. Right foot. Pause. Right foot. Pause. 

Maybe I should take my clothes off, to get in the zone I thought. 

I threw my jacket into a ravine and ripped off my shirt. A bunch of jingly shit fell out of my pockets as I was removing my pants. This will save me the step of rejecting technology and throwing my phone into a creek I thought. 

You're doing it again I scolded myself. 

It took me about 8 hours to reassemble my outfit.

As the sun rose, I realized how muddy I was. I’ve turned into a wook I thought. Those wooks gave me drugs to turn me into a wook, and it worked. 

It was beautiful out. I hiked to the top of a ridge and looked down at the seaside village where I was raised. 

Boy, I hope my mom isn’t doing her morning hike today I thought. But of course she was. My mom’s very good at sticking to her fitness regimen. 

“Wow” she said when she saw me. “How was your party?”  

“It...wasn’t really a party” I said.  

She looked at me funny. 

“Ok, bye” I said. 

 

PICTURES I SAVED FROM MY OLD BOX OF NOSTALGIA CRAP

 

AN INTERVIEW WITH GRANDMIXER GMS ABOUT PACIFIC NORTHWEST RAP IN THE 80'S

GrandMixer GMS hosts a show on KFOX's Nightbeat that you can hear here.

NODF: Who is the first Pacific Northwest rapper you remember hearing?

GMS: The first Pacific Northwest rapper I remember hearing, aside from the people I knew around the neighborhood and in my network of friends, was Sir Mix-A-Lot. I first heard him on Seattle’s 1250 KFOX. DJ Nasty Nes played one of his songs on his show, KFOX Fresh Tracks. I believe the song was called “Why Do The Rappers Lie.” Over time I heard more songs from Sir Mix-A-Lot, but I also remember the Emerald Street Boys who did the intro for Fresh Tracks. However, the first Hip-Hop DJ’s I remember hearing were Nasty Nes (KFOX), Sir Mix-A-Lot (KFOX & mix tapes), Arnell Smith (KTOY – Tacoma), Reggie Reg Taylor (KTOY), and Spokane’s original mixtape King was a guy named Skeet (Paul Bradley, Jr.) (R.I.P.). Skeet was a very talented musician and DJ and I always heard his mixtapes from everyone. I had the honor of working with him in the late 80s. Sadly, he died in, I believe, the late 90’s while saving his daughter from drowning.

Were you guys listening to any Bay Area rappers in the 80s?

I didn’t really hear any Bay Area rappers until the mid-80s. The first one I remember hearing was Too Short.  However, I heard many mixes from the Bay Area back then from KSOL and then KMEL. The DJ mixing was the legendary Cameron Paul (R.I.P.). I was very impressed with the recordings I heard from Bay Area radio.

How did you get your music information? Were there any cool record stores or magazines you remember?

I received my music and Hip-Hop info from any source possible: MTV (back when they showed music videos), though they didn’t have Yo MTV Raps until much later, but I remember seeing Herbie Hancock perform with Grandmixer D.X.T. (D.S.T.) and that was incredible. Recordings of other cities' radio stations were a major source of info, and simply word of mouth from family and friends. There was a really good record store in Spokane at the time called “Strawberry Jams” and it was by far the best record store in Spokane at the time! They had every Hip-Hop record back then, including records I had never heard – I spent all my allowance money on records there! I don’t remember any magazines in the early days, but eventually came The Source, Vibe, and the lesser known The Bomb (from the Bay Area), and Canada’s PROP$ Magazine.

What makes Pacific Northwest rap unique?

I think what may make it unique is its distance and semi-seclusion from the other major cities, which allowed many different genres to influence the style of music. The early music, at least from Sir Mix-A-Lot, was heavily influenced by early electro. Some people described Mix-A-Lot as a blend between Newcleus and Egyptian Lover. Then, you had a group of people who were huge fans of East Coast music, so their sound seemed to be an adaptation of that style of Hip-Hop.

What equipment did you start DJing with?

The equipment I started out with was a make-shift set up of standard home and portable stereo equipment. I bought turntables from yard sales that I would modify. Some would skip, so I made some adjustments to where they were nearly impossible to make skip; I modified “line switches” with tape so I could just press a button instead of moving a fader (similar to the “Flash Former” that came out years later, which I eventually bought); I bought an echo chamber and a mixer from Radio Shack, I bought another mixer from a pawnshop. My step-brother, Stevie, had a portable radio (boombox) that was perfect for doing “pause” mixes. My boombox also had a keyboard on it. So all of my early mixes were made from this type of equipment.

How did Nasty Nes discover Sir Mix A Lot?

As far as I know – and Nes would be the better authority on this – but Nes was the radio “jock” and Mix was the “street jock” (quoting what Mix-A-Lot told me years ago), and they actually didn’t like each other. Eventually, they decided to hook up (probably not the correct term to use now, but back then that’s how we would say people decided to work together), and Nes started playing Mix-A-Lot on his radio show. I also remember something about Ed Locke convincing Nes to go with him to a place where Mix-A-Lot was performing, and I think Nes initially resisted but reluctantly agreed – good thing he did! Ultimately, the three of them formed NastyMix Records (the name was taken from “Nasty” Nes and Sir “Mix”-A-Lot), and that was the label that launched Mix-A-Lot’s career. Again, Nes can provide more complete info on this subject. I also know that they went to the same high school, but I don’t think they really knew each other then.


Why do you think Portland never really developed a rap scene?

Portland actually had a good Hip-Hop scene. The first rap artist from Portland that I remember was DJ Vitamix. Vitamix recently pointed out to me that he was the first white rapper ever signed to a major record label. I’m not sure why his music never blew up. It was really good music. I used to mix his records back then and people would always ask me who it was. Portland had a radio station called KBOO that played mixes. Not Hip-Hop – but influential, nonetheless – was the group Nu Shooz (“I Can’t Wait”). The later artists I remember coming out of Portland were Cool Nutz and another guy named Bosco (E-40 producer and inventer of the ElectroSpit ESX-1 mobilephone-enabled talk box). (Whoa, Bosco's from Portland? -ed.) There are several very talented Portland-based rappers out now. One thing I noticed was the Portland scene seemed to be a bit more unification and the idea of simply creating good music, whereas in other parts of the PNW back in the 80’s and 90’s there was a lot of back-biting and smack talk (not with everyone, but with some of the artists). Of course, I wasn’t from Portland and have limited experience with that scene, but that’s what it seemed like back then.

Who is an unsung hero of PNW rap?

Who is an unsung here of PNW rap? Overall, I would say DJ Nasty Nes. While he is not a rapper, his efforts and connections in the music industry outside of Seattle played a big part in the career of Sir Mix-A-Lot. But if you’re asking about rappers or maybe rappers who were underrated and not-so-well-known, I would say either EDawg or Wojack (formerly MC Deff from Criminal Nation). They were/are incredibly talented and original, but they didn’t achieve the ultimate success I think they should have. This is not to take away what they were able to accomplish, but I think they should have went multi-platinum. Personally, I think they still could.

Where did you see you first rap show and what was it?

Aside from the rappers I had seen at early breakdancing competitions, the first major rap concert I attended was the Spring Rap Fest in Seattle in 1987. Sir Mix-A-Lot opened the show, followed by Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince, Kool Moe D, and then the 2 Live Crew (Grandmaster Flash was supposed to perform, but for whatever reason he didn’t). Nasty Nes was the host and this was the first time I actually saw him in person. This show had a major impact on me as a DJ because watching DJ Jazzy Jeff (and Mr.  Mixx) showed me how at that time I was nowhere near the level I should be as a DJ, but it was inspiring because it caused me to go home and practice! They were absolutely incredible on turntables and I am so thankful I was able to attend the show! Also, being able to see all of those artists perform was quite a treat because they were all great showmen, in their own right.

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Don't forget to check out Grandmixer GMS's show on DJ Nasty Nes' own Nightbeat, on Rainier Avenue Radio.