Don Cheney Bookology
 



The Qualms of Catullus & Kmart

Written: 1985

    "Before you steal something from your city call it gold"

Links:

  *   JPEG scans of the book

  *   The HTML'ing of the book
 


 
No One A-Bandons Me!

Written: 1987?

excerpt from "No One A-bandons Me!":

-What is it that has three assholes and looks like your dad?- She asked.

-I have pencils to sharpen.- I told her.

-For Mr. Brady?- She asked.

I moved my head meaning negative and said:

-No.-

I was so lame at answering questions.

-It's from Mistress Schuyler.- She said, showing me an envelope.

It took me a moment to understand her words. I never did look to my cerebellum for fulfillment.

-From Mistress Schuyler?- I said like a komodo dragon. -But she...she's...she's...-

-DEAD?- Sandra said sarcastically. -She gave this to me the other day when her body was floating
around your apartment.-

-How could you possibly get this letter from her?- I asked. -What are you, a fucking nut?-

She moved her head meaning negative:

-No, and let go of my thigh.-

Links:

  *   The HTML'ing of the book



I Saw Two Good Houses Over There NEXT TO Death

Written: October 1996 - May 1999

excerpt from "I Saw Two Good Houses Over There NEXT TO Death":

"Goddamn it, Josh!" I remember saying through my dentures-of-the-month. "God damn you to hell
in a hand basket! Im coming unglued! To whom do I make out the check?"

Links:

  *   Max's multi-media TWO GOOD HOUSES project

  *   The HTML'ing of the book

  *   Listen to an excerpt from TWO GOOD HOUSES


 

 
The Land of the Cheddar Monster Vivisectionists

Written: July 13, 2005 - August 26, 2005

excerpt from "The Land of the Cheddar Monster Vivisectionists":

They had eaten dinner and now it was time for their nightly trip to Nordstrom.
Lindy was tired because she missed Kriss camel, but she was reading a book about kids who tore-up
books instead of going to school and that pepped her up. Kris was the head of the local chapter of
the Book-Tearing Terrier Banditos, but now he was quiet, thinking about how Mr. Madero had sabotaged
their debut performance with his death bed for cutie bullcrap.

-Do we have to go to Nordstrom every night, Daddy? -Lindy was sick of artificial light
and needless mark-ups.

-Its filled with freaking orangutans -Kris griped, fighting off the rats with Mr. Maderos limp body.

Links:

  *   Max's multi-media CHEDDAR MONSTER project

  *   Listen to a fiddy second excerpt from CHEDDAR
 


 
The Land of the Cheddar Monster Vivisectionists II

Written: August 26, 2005 - October 4, 2005

excerpt from "The Land of the Cheddar Monster Vivisectionists":

-We have to free Slappy, he's been a dummy too long.
Think of it, Sara. How would you like it if every time you
opened your mouth somebody spoke for you? You'd
probably start driving around in an S.U.V., praising
Jesus, and voting for George W. Bush.

The poor lass couldn't follow a train, let alone a train of
thought.

..... and later:

Slappy's pants got caught on his S.U.V., and he fell to
the ground, his cellphone and Republican Party card
flying out of his pocket. Not only was he diabolical,
he was a card-carrying Republican! He grunted like a
lapdog - his mandibles caught under the SUV's massive
tires.

..... and later:

I searched his (Slappy's) pockets for weapons and for
any more right-wing affiliations. I found a John Birch
Society card, dated 1965 and tore it into lab rats.
Slappy protested, but he really got agitated when I
found a grunion in his pocket and started slapping him
in the face with it.

-What are you doing? -Sara exclaimed-. Shouldn't
we be beating the piss out of him?

I had thought of that, but slapping him with a fish was too
much fun.
 



THE EYE at the End of your PUNK ASS

Written: August 1, 2000 - February 26, 2001

excerpt from "THE EYE at the End of your PUNK ASS":

-Madam whatsername...- Drew said. -Madam... Madam Baldhead. No... Madam Pasttense.-

-VALDA!- Kelsey exclaimed.

-Thats it!- Drew said. -Carlos Valderrama.-

Zandra knew when to bob for apples.

-Whats her name again?- Kelsey prayed no one had a gun.

-This is impossible.- Zandra said, knocking on the side of her head. -MAD - DAM - VAHL - DUH.
Here? I dont think so.- She said and then rested before she continued. -She can't be here.-

-Do you know why Madam Valda is such a bitch?- Drew asked.

-Naturally.- Zandra responded. -She was born a Gitane cigarette and now she roams the world
claiming that she is Madam Valda. That would piss-off anybody.-

-Yeah, so what?- Kelsey asked even though she had left her brazenness in a jar at home.

Zandra was breathing harder than John Ramsey at a childrens beauty contest.

-Madam Valda is one of the most punk-ass cigarettes in all of history. And one of the meanest.
But youll never find her in a history book.-

-Why not?- Kelsey asked.

-Because.- Zandra said, looking into her eyes. -Because Madam Valda died and went to heaven
and then died over a hundred years ago.-

Links:

  *   Max's multi-media PUNK ASS project
 


 
And All I Got Was This Lousy Case Of Larvae

Written: October 12, 2005 - February 11, 2006

excerpt from "And All I Got Was This Lousy Case Of Larvae":

Now, Im use to strange parasites, but Im not sure that I can take this poor mans Pat Sajak anymore.

-I believe that you believe you see Gods voice -I mumbled inco- and conda scendingherently. I was busy
watching the cays of the moon rascading down from the world of the tree house occult.

-With every ghost I see, I dont know how much more I can handle -Steve confessed. Then he turned to me
and he sliced off his left forefinger with a kitchen knife-. I think Ill send this to God.

Poor fucking guy, its gonna come back to him and "RETURN TO SENDER" is gonna be stamped all over it.

In a very short time, this story has gone from circling its self to circling the drain. Like some
spectacular circus. Like the blood that actually was circling the drain as Steve held his hand over it,
desperately looking for Gods address.



Say, Aren't U A Monster?

Written: January 10, 2003 (started as title "Without Greed, Demons Stray") - December 10, 2005

excerpt from "Say, Aren't U A Monster?":

-Fuck me -Evan mused.

Right away, his mom laced into him like God on a burro, like white all over rice.
She knew that God on a burro wasn't a dentist observing Lent, but then a gun isn't
something that you sit or pee on.

-So, can I count on you?

Evan decided to put on a brave front.

-You can count on me if I can hit you over the head with a mallet.

The last time Evan had traveled it was on an Anglican escalator. His house had burned
down and they were living in a studio. Hed spend all of his time watching old people
limp past him. He spent the rest of his time in the bathroom writing. He wrote about
stretching cats across America and how every U.S. citizen would be able to see a cat
out their window.

The window was reflecting back into Evans interior garden. This garden was a large
rectangular green garage in Texas where grease made the lizards slide like Lady Bugs
on shrimp sticks. There was a little area that extended all the way to Don Prudhomme.
He was a prudish man who did not like Coral-Snaked dogs.


 


The Cab Driving Terrier

Written: June 6, 2001 - October 29, 2005

excerpt from "The Cab Driving Terrier" starting from the beginning of the novel:

-More Sangria -I ordered. What the hell, I was about to face the guillotine.

I had been urinating on cadavers at the local cemetery when they had brought out the guillotine.

I had hands then where now I have paws. I can see my severed head in the basket. I can see the
blood and I can see a Metro Bus.

The guillotiners eyes were as inexpressive as his turban. I had blue eyes that were congealed
in terror.

I kept up this thinking until someone kicked me in the ass.

-This is no bastard time for day dreaming -a voice said.

-You're right, Mike -Mr. Spellman was pulling his false teeth from a jar. It was a large jar
because his teeth used to belong to a giant mannequin that had been killed by a guillotine.

Links:

  *   Max's multi-media CAB DRIVING project
 



A Clapping Jelly Book
    poems from Helmut Heinb

Written: ?

Links:

  *   A Clapping Jelly Book
 



In A Valley Of Dusty Dew

Written: ?

sample line from "In A Valley Of Dusty Dew":

Say can you see shampoo?

Links:

  *   In A Valley Of Dusty Dew
 



Lick My Skull Dry

Written: ?

sample line from "Lick My Skull Dry":

Man! That war was a test of SOMEONE's grave!
  (from a poem that has no title)

Links:

  *   Lick My Skull Dry
 


Matchbook Poems

Written: ?

Links:

  *   Matchbook Poems
 


me and said

Written: ?

Links:

  *   me and said   in the upper-left corner to go to next poem)
 



F O U R E S S A Y S

Written: ?

  excerpt from "F O U R E S S A Y S":

Veselovsky and Khlebnikov were of the opinion that if they each apologized in different languages,
then B.V. Tomashevsky would rush to their defense, like Clarence Darrow to On The Origin Of Species,
the original LARGE novel.

Their opinions held many curiosities, but that's like saying that Darwin began On The Origin Of Species
with these words:

I am now going to give you a laser treatment that will make your mind seem as distant to you as it seems
fabulous to me.

Yes, but can you find my car keys?

  (from the e s s a y "Algae Is Empire Over The World Of Used Book Stores")

Links:

  *   With Art Comes The Things I Meant To

  *   Algae Is Empire Over The World Of Used Book Stores

  *   The Laces Are Not Laced - Art & Idiom

  *   HERE, WITHOUT HAVING LIVED DURING HIS TIME OR READ THE MATERIAL TO BE EXPLORED DURING MINE, I'LL WRITE ABOUT SHAKESPEARE... - Singing the Body Hamlet
 
 



Cosmic Vomit

Written: February 28, 2001 - June 6, 2001

excerpt from "Cosmic Vomit" starting with "Mom" talking:

-I dont want to kick all of your asses in the sack race because, believe you me,
you won't know what hit you. Youll think youve just hit the median at 33rd and 3rd.
Youll be digging your faces out of your cereal bowls -Now Mom was doing advertisements.

Great. And I didnt put my fangs in this morning.

-Its true, Mom -I told her-, except for that part after "I dont want to kick all of your asses".

I had sent away to Mexico for my fangs and for my hands, actually. This time they came to me warm.
Last time they came to me cold, salted and in a plastic bag with a bunch of fingers.

Links:

  *   Max's multi-media COSMIC VOMIT project


 

   

   

There's No One In The Bathroom, But Let's Murder 'em Anyway!

Written: July 22, 2006 - currently writing

EXCERPT from "There's No One In The Bathroom, But Let's Murder 'em Anyway!":

-Daddy... The plants! -Margaret exclaimed.

The contemplative curmudgeon turned Kentucky fried apoplectic. His eyes reddened and his arteries hardened. His starched shirt stiffened and went silent.

-They grabbed Charlie! -Margaret said.

-I just wanted my shirt back -Charlie said in a trembling voice.

The siblings looked to their dad - the man who helped bring them into this world - for guidance, for wisdom, for clarity. But all they got was the 3-mile stare of a man whod lost his humanity years ago.

Finally, the old dirtbag spoke:

-Are they o... Are you okay?

-Yes -Charlie said as slowly and deliberately as you can deliver a one-syllable word.

Again, the two looked to their dad for a timely and logical explanation of shirt-stealing, child-molesting plants with hands in the bathroom.

Margaret held Charlies hand as their four eyes poured into their dads, trying to find the light switch.

-I am very... deceitful -The good doctor affirmed their suspicions-. Did I say "deceitful"? I meant disappointed.

-But we can get you help, Dad -Margaret mistakenly malapropismd-. You can go to Arizona and... you know, get a document notarized?

-I am very disappointed -Mr. ... uh, Dr. Berger said slowly- in you two.

-Im sorry -Margaret started the round of excuses-. We didnt know you were growing murderous, humanoid...

-Yeah -Charlie interrupted her sister before she got them fed to the plants-. And... we didnt smoke any of your plants, I swear.

-Very disappointed -Their father repeated robotically.

-Were sorry, Daddy.

Dr. Berger held out his pinky ring for the children to kiss.

-I just thank God that your mother is getting documents notarized and wasn't around to witness this.

Charlie looked up from kissing Dr. Bergers ring.

-Does she ever kiss your pinky ring? -He asked and Margaret kneed him in the thigh.

-No, no, of course not, Charlie -Margaret murmured-. That would be... gross.

But Charlie was on a roll.

-Has she ever been in the bathroom?

Again, Margaret kneed him in the thigh.

They followed their father in silence as he led them to the kitchen. He took a bag of flour and poured it all over the kitchen counter. He fingered the flour until he had drawn a word:

D i E

Dr. Berger watched their looks of terror and, satisfied, smeared the flour with his hand so that the word disappeared. His robotic stare and his not-so-subtle terrorism had their effect.

On everyone except Charlie:

-So, Dad, whats up with the plants?

Links:

  *   There's No One In The Bathroom, But Let's Murder 'em Anyway! Multi-Media Project
 



Caramelized Indigenous Aliens Club
    for Sean and Ben

Written: June 2006

  excerpt from "Caramelized Indigenous Aliens Club":

Walter collapsed. He was always collapsing. He gets nervous when hes around dens of children he doesnt know.

-I declare this session of The Caramelized Indigenous Aliens Club OPEN! -He said, after righting himself. He hoisted the black and monstrous gavel and then slammed it down so hard that it shattered into steak and tiny John Leguizamos. And then he collapsed again, right into Gregs lap.

-Motherfuck!

It was a broad lap - large and stretchy. In fact, a cartel of pelicans had been painting a mural on it when Walter came crashing down. Walter had once again turned a silly meeting into sillier comedy, everyone licking their lips in anticipation of eating fallen prey, and then laughing maniacally instead. Walter then got tossed around from person to person until he wound up on the Givenchy and curiously red sofa.

This is a great place for caramelized indigenous aliens to congregate, Walter thought, before passing out again.

The boy Greg was sitting on the old sofa, Walter having been passed 360 around the room. Greg was serving his second 9-year-sentence as club pediatrician, specializing in examining Bonnie and Natasha - who had just walked into the room. In his succulent, rodent fingers, Greg held the Christ figure dressed as an android from the movie, "War Of The Galatassarays", and he was making it move while mumbling to himself.

Evan, the boy-mayor of this burg, also had a Christ figure, but his was dressed like Uhuru from "Star Trek", complete with sexy mini-skirt and anatomically correct go-go boots.

Links:

  *   Caramelized Indigenous Aliens Club Multi-Media Project
 



A Car Is An Aid To What Driving

Written: February 2007 - January 2008

  excerpt from "A Car Is An Aid To What Driving":

But instead of pushing Mike out of the way and having a go with Nastassja Plantski, I stood there pissing my self.

I gulped as I realized that this was probably my only chance to have sex with a human-plant-celebrity hybrid.

And as I contemplated this grotesque yet genuinely erotic scene, my shoes wet with urine, I got very horny. I looked to
my side and there was Liz rolling around with another human-plant-celebrity hybrid. It was a prickly pear Antonio Banderas!

These bastard plants had literally star-fucked their way into human-plant hybridedness!

And I was getting absolutely zero trim.

And thats when I saw old man Palmer, his body undulating like a penguin on Tang.

You heard me. Old man Palmer was getting some! And not just some. He was enmeshed in a threesome with human-plant hybrid
Barbi twins! They were all over him, but they didnt make a sound, and their eyes were blank.
 


 

Halloween: You - Me - Drink

Written: February 20, 2006 - DONE!

PROMO from "Halloween: You - Me - Drink":

-Yeah, right there -The security guard moaned as Liv found his man-package. She zipped down his fly and gave me a look,
like I was supposed to do something. The distinctive disco stylings of Georgio Mororder played over the loud speaker. There
was a big sign in the corner that read: DO IT!

The pounding beats were pulsing in my brain and in my body. I felt like a Kraftwerk robot as I pulled the guard's gun from its holster.
Liv already had the guy's dick out and was holding it like a pinwheel. There was no alternative, I had to literally pop a cap in this guy's ass.

-What are you doing with that? -The guard asked, and I didn't know if he was talking to me or to Liv. I imagined my self shooting
and shooting as the compact disc played.

Instead, I looked at Liv.

Her face was white and her hand was blood-red. She moved her fingers over the guard's penis.

-Will you shoot him?! -Liv was a prisoner to the "DO IT!" sign.

-Heeeey! That's nothing to play with!

Again, I didn't know who he was talking to. I thought for one second and then started pulling the trigger.

Nothing.

-It's fake -The guard finally said.

-No! No, it can't be! -I screamed.

-You're right -The guard said, taking the gun from my hand-. The fucking safety's on, numb-nuts. Now, you motherfuckers are going to
give me my penis and my ten bucks back, or I'm gonna shoot your fingers off for every day of the week. Now, gimme!

-Does that mean seven fingers from each of us, or 4 from one and 3 from the other? -I asked, and then Liv chimed in:

-Or 5 fingers from Greg and 2 from me?

-Shut up! -The guard screamed and zipped up his fly-. Are you two nuts?!


Written/Created: September 2005
 


I'm Old But I'm Not As Old As The Center Of The Earth Is Old Because That's Really Old

Written/Created: December 2007
 


Re: The Thing

Collaboration with Rose Anne Raphael
Written: Dublin/San Diego, November 1981 - May 1982

excerpt from Re: The Thing

A slaughter house is two blocks down the street. From her window she could occasionally hear the pigs squeal and the man said "nice weather, eh?" even when it rained. She thought it was a joke, but thought that perhaps the man who prodded the pigs from the back of the truck with the iron pipe might like to get to know here better. She walked by him every day and did not know his name.

"I can't get it up," he tried to console me. "I have to rearrange, but maybe tomorrow (he)" (two days ago, I to myself).

"Good points" the grocer to I "Though doesn't this beg the whole question of Hegel's dialectic? I wonder..." She bagged my jellybeans and then paused, thinking. I put my hand on the bag. "Thanks," I.

Links:

  *   Re: The Thing   The Entire Story
 


The Profanity of the Lambs

Written: November 10, 1994 - currently a-bandoned

excerpt from The Profanity of the Lambs

-Who is this?- I asked myself, not in a voice but in a bath.

I had taped my manhood to my thigh and now I was starting to regret it:

-Who knows? This is a conference call.-

-All right. How much is this going to cost me in Daytona? Talk like you're Tony Perez and
you're up to bat with two outs in the bottom of the ninth.-

A man's voice yelled until I had to hold the telephone away from my ear. Then some tenor
with a leaf of Western accent:

-Mr. Carey?-

-Yes, I am I.-

-Mr. Luke Carey?-

-The miserable.- I responded and brought a PEZ to my mouth. If I was going to sit here trading
gastroenterologists, at least I was going to have a bicarbonate of soda and not worry about diverticulitis.

-This is Sergeant Joe Friday from the San Francisco Police.- Now, instead of Western, the accent
was accusatory. -Do you have a daughter named Danielle?-

A teeny bit of spit seeped down my tie.

-Yes...in a manner of speaking.- I exclaimed rabidly. -How long ago did this occur?-

-I don't believe I said.- He said to spite me. -Why don't you get a cab, come over here and
tell me what an asshole you are?-


The L's and A's

Written: ? and then a-bandoned

Links:

  *   The L's and A's a-bandoned!
 


Cynthia, This Book Gave Me Mono
  The Elegies of Propertius

Written: ?

Links:

  *   Cynthia, This Book Gave Me Mono
 



The Crystal Lava

Written: ?   A-bandoned: ?

excerpt from The Crystal Lava

The green fingers ran around and around and over the green hills, fearing the hills would explode.

Ned Beaumont, under ear a page and an exclamation point and under a family store the retirement money.

Harry Sloss recognized the fingers and the agitation and the off-hued hand, all white, grand and velcroed.

-Two chicks in the van.- He said and under ear he tapped out two bills, one a twenty and the other not a twenty.

Links:

  *   The Crystal Lava
 


With The Wolves The And
  for Max

Written: March 1987

Links:

  *   With The Wolves The And
 



God Is Third And I Am Number One
  cover by Max Cheney

Written:

excerpt from God Is Third And I Am Number One

-�Motherfuck! -I screamed, trying unsuccessfully to stay calm-. I mean... smooth. �So, you killed her
and went to sleep for the night? �Couldn't you've called a doctor, or...?

I was not smooth, and I coudln't think of the name of a good psychiatrist to recommend to him. Just
then, another phone rang, and I couldn't keep things straight. It was for me. It was Callahan.

-They've got a donut buffet going here -He said triumphantly-. Oh, and a fingerprint. It's Dick Moley's.
�Do you understand me, fat man?
 



Gold Unicorn
  cover by Max Cheney

Written: March/April 2008

excerpt from Gold Unicorn

Without fail, you must have the case decided and then fit the facts around it. Especially when someone is found murdered
in your clients car. On my very first case it took me and two other ops three months of intense investigation and in the end
I had to beat a confession out of one of the haplesser employees at a coffee joint who wouldnt serve me Mocha Java con
Curly Howard.
 



This Pair of Twos Does Not Equal This Pair of Tens - Vinny Testaverdes in Every Direction
  cover by Don Cheney

Written: March 2008

excerpt from This Pair of Twos Does Not Equal This Pair of Tens - Vinny Testaverdes in Every Direction

-Do me a favor. -He said like he actually meant it-. Don't believe anything I've said since the dentures got blasted,
if thats what you want. You can use my hands, you can use my library. I don't care what you use, just find the
sick fuck who has made this story possible. Use my wife! See if I protest. Apart from that I can't think of anything
that would help you on this case. But I'm not the dick! So go! Find some clues and wash your hands with them.
I imagine your hands become very dirty from a long days sleuthing. I know that when I run-on talk like this, my
dad and my wife both wash my mouth out with soap. And they use freaking All-tempa-Cheer! If I sound insincere
it's only because I've run out of actual words and I'm starting to recite my drivers license. I didn't think I'd run
outta words until I was old and dead and gone. But if you want my wife - and you can have her, for Christ's sake -
leave a tip in the tip jar, huh? I mean: I gotta listen to her screaming like Lancelot Link on fire. But I digress

-All right! Enough! -I said-. I didn't want this job, but I'm here and stuck with you lot. And Im always in it for the
dough, not the cookie.

-I'm sincere and I'm serious.- And then his monster dentures formed this sardonic smile that said "Nobody calls
my slut cookie"-. And my dignity is sitting in a tip jar by my bed.

-That's what everyone tells me. -I grunted bravely-. I'm afraid I'm going to have to investigate Exon's room.

Gallaway's wife and Exon's nurse were both sick, but I examined their room also. I had to, I was about to grill
everyone within six miles of the dump.
 



The People Is Too Sick To Love (form Michael Davidson)
  cover by Don Cheney

Written: ?

excerpt from The People Is Too Sick To Love (form Michael Davidson)

Although I love obscurity

I don't like the sky

all clouded up and unable to speak.
 



Juice House
  cover by Max Cheney

Written: March 2008

excerpt from Juice House

-You can't tell Me that I can't roast you. You're going straight to heaven.
Yes, straight to heaven, where St. Peter will roast you like a pig over
an open flame.