My juicy depression/Singapore, what’s up with the price on jeans these days?

D|o|G, 2008 | I dette på overfladen stilfærdige, men i substansen utroligt dramatiske digt præsenterer D|o|G – Diaper of Glory – sine læsere for et indblik i en hverdag, som den kan tage sig ud i et vestligt industrisamfund. En knivskarp realisme kombineres og sammenflettes på sublimeste vis med en poetisk eventyrlighed, der forlener hverdagens trivialiteter med et skær af skønhed og perfektion, skønt det ikke varer længe, før den samme hverdag får revet sløret fra øjnene og bliver stillet til ansvar foran dommen.

My juicy depression/Singapore, what’s up with the price on jeans these days?

I show up at midnight by the drive through, only to find that a nine pound heavy/weightless Godzilla-like wrestler girl drinks gasoline directly from the nest of a 12 foot tall aboriginal manager. I scream, of course, and run around aimlessly until a macho-like salmon, suffering from delirium disorder, on purpose shoots me in the face with a broken crossbow. I laugh and hand out my résumé to everyone watching, while a gargoyle detective wearing a big purple diaper yell eleven letters from an ABBA song, while performing surgery on a stringed out envelope. 24 showering plumbers rush into my bedroom and discover the true meaning of bus departures and the long forgotten smell of piss in the hair of 30,000 confused railroad employees. At the end of the trilogy, at the end of the line, and when the moon is highest on the dark sky, a giant albatross wearing a bra, command boots and lip-gloss will steal your credit card and have a fun night out all paid for by the firm.

Take care, everyone, and remember: I am only a phone call away or hacking my way through your net-banking account and your daughter’s Myspace account, pretending I’m a tattooed Brazilian inmate looking for the “right one”, but hey, we can still hang out, right?

Hughs and kisses, Apple computers.