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Showing posts with label Bethzilla. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bethzilla. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

The Ring


Momma wants to sell her ring so she can pay her property taxes. Escalating property taxes are a serious problem for the fixed income elderly. A series.

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Solving The eBay Conundrum In The Piney Woods Of East Texas



Mom and sis figure out how to put mom's ring up for sale on eBay so they can pay the property taxes on their house. A series.

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Friday, April 05, 2013

She's OUT THERE!

It makes me so nervous to know that my sister is out of jail again, this time out of federal prison. She's out there in the dark, walking to and fro on the east Texas earth. Maybe looking for souls to devour, maybe looking for a rent free place to squat, but definitely not looking for a job.
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Wednesday, April 27, 2011

White Trash Redneck Zombies Spotted In Marshall, Texas


Here in the drunkard's section of the piney woods of east Texas, hiding among the Hard-Shell Baptists of Marshall, Texas, are two of the most hard core zombified cocola white trash tobacco road booger-flickin', boogerheaded pine tree rednecks you'd ever want to see. They ought to be put in one of them miracles of science medical books.

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The Ice Box Talks Trash To My Crazy Sister Beth


Beth's refrigerator is stuck up. It only talks to Beth! I'd suggest that maybe she should switch carriers. That is unless she's still under contract with the old fridge. It talks to her. It won't talk to me. I've tried. She assures me that her refrigerator is bilingual but I hear no evidence of that. I danced with a refrigerator once at the Motel Marquis. Even wrote a poem about it. But it ended badly.

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Wednesday, March 09, 2011

Yet Another Night In Addict Paradise


My sister Beth and my momma Joyce argue over the Xanax. Again. Forever. Notice at 1:17 where Beth wants to go with the 25 Xanax....to "the casino", a 40-minute drive in the middle of the night to Shreveport's gambling boats.

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Tuesday, March 08, 2011

Some Things Never Change On Forest Trail










I'm doing some housekeeping of my Youtube channel this morning, deleting old videos, old inbox messages and old Channel comments. Ran across this one from last year some time and thought it funny how nothing---absolutely nothing--- has changed with my sister in the year. Here it is:

"My sister drives a raggedy ol' Blazer with fairy-stickered windows and a cracked welding mask in the back seat with a dozen spilled antibiotics half melted on the dashboard that look like multicolored fairy eggs and there were empty Miller bottles clink clink clinking on the floorboard behind the driver's seat when she drove the poor machine into another ditch after hitting another mailbox and she has an welding smock signed by some NASCAR driver and she always has saw dust or lice or crabs or SOMETHING moving in her hair and she cut two holes in the back of her dress and she had these scapular wings that were covered with feathers and electrical tape and when she got good and drunk she would sing about Uncertain, Texas where the pot is strong and folks mind their own business and about how she'd be SO MUCH happier if that damned Webeeza tribe of gypsy closet-dwelling Indians would just leave her ass along for a weekend but I'm not listening because whatever it is that my crazy-assed sister's got---I don't wanna catch it."

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Saturday, March 05, 2011

When Did I Become Mr Moneybags?


My drug addict sister Crystal Meth Beth of Marshall, Texas always greets me (and anybody else she meets) the same way.

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Tuesday, March 01, 2011

Monday, February 28, 2011

Marshall Texas Police Informant Rats Out Her Sister In New Diana


My evil sister Bethzilla, professional stoolie and police informant for the Marshall, Texas police department, tends to rat out whichever one of her siblings is not in the room at the time. It's her Divide and Conquer strategy of financial manipulation. Pretty advanced stuff for a bipolar pill-popping redneck drunkard.

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Saturday, February 26, 2011

Monster Behind The Brown Door in Marshall, Texas


A surreal, Blue Velvet-like, David Lynch-esque conversation with momma about buying her love for the price of a hamburger and a gallon of milk while the monster behind the brown door watches through the curtains.

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Saturday, February 12, 2011

They Don't Call You Bethzilla For Nothing


by James Jarvis
02/10/2011

They call you the Bethzilla,
neighbors hide when you come out to thrill 'em.
Your brother sees the devil in your eyes, hell:
Your "friends" just see another sale.

You broke the Madza in a vacant lot,
Used the alimony Firebird to ram some trees.
You burned up momma's Olds, you witch
And ran the Fairy Blazer in a ditch.

Didn't mind you ate those rocks
Until your poop did break both johns,
But you crossed the line, you freaking tweeker
When I'll be damned, you ate the water heater.
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Wednesday, February 09, 2011

A Filthy Ho In East Texas


My sister Crystal Meth Beth waits patiently for the street drugs that she has ordered to be delivered to her bedroom door as her mother tries to solve another Money Missing From Her Purse mystery. It's no mystery to anyone who knows Beth.

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