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Nightmarish Orgasms

by Max Mooseman, author of Bastard! A Mushroom Trip

As an entertainer, I am a dark sort. A sad, angry clown who’s madness jumps into your throat and tickles out a guilty guffaw. When I am good, I am like a car crash. Your eyes stay locked on me looking for the gory goods while you shield your child’s eyes and hope they never figure out people like me exist.

I would love to just make you laugh. I would love to inspire the sweet innocent smile delivered through something pure and wonderful but I don’t think it is in the cards for me. As the Oracle said, “we’re all here to do what we’re all here to do.”

For some reason, I can channel and convey the empathetic pieces of our worst impulses. I am a master of where your nightmare meets orgasmic joy and your impulses twist until you hear that cackle of insanity toward the bridge of your nose.

What am I for? I have no idea. I suspect I am necessary the way a rainy week makes you notice the sunshine. Not bad. I like the rain.

-Max Mooseman

Max Mooseman’s Dirty Folk Products:

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