DR Bogdan


and then, maybe, write about it

  • Ol’ Bloody Brush

    15 November 2019 by

    the old man stank
    but he
    stank more
    of booze and cheap
    tobacco than

    his mouth missed
    a lot of
    and his eyes
    would never
    in the same
    direction at once

    but worst of
    all were his hands
    Now those were
    really messed up

    He claimed he had
    paint tanks
    under his nails
    and he wasn’t lying

    he was mad
    but not a liar

    He could paint
    wherever he was
    on any surface

    And he did

    pressing the stump
    of his fingers
    against walls and
    triggered immediate

    and then he
    would trace on and
    draw something
    Usually a penis or
    some hairy cunt or
    some silhouettes
    fucking or
    something like that

    Then he’d step back
    admire his creation
    and laugh
    and suck at his
    bloody fingers

    Ol’ Bloody Brush
    was a celebrity
    around the
    He never had
    to buy a
    drink for
    There was always
    someone to treat him,
    an admirer
    a fan, a disciple

    Yeah, at 66
    Ol’ Bloody Brush
    was living the life
    unlike other wannabe
    artists who devoted
    their existence to
    the craft and got

    These guys,
    they had the talent
    and the drive

    bout Ol’ Bloody Brush,
    he had the madness

    and the world
    was coming to learn
    the difference

  • smart dead man

    7 November 2019 by

    In the afterlife the creatures that
    gathered around him
    asked, “Why did you do it? Why
    did you jump in
    front of that train?”

    He shrugged. “Life wasn’t
    worth living anymore. And I wanted


    “Yes, revenge.”

    “On whom?”

    “On the man driving the train, obviously.
    My wife was divorcing
    me, a lawyer, to be with a
    locomotive engineer. Can you believe that?
    So I had to do
    something about it. I jumped in
    front of his train
    and now he’s got PTSD, depression,
    he’s about to lose his job,
    my wife has second thoughts
    about being with him. His life’s nasty, alright.”

    “Woah… you’re a smart man.”

  • another bulimic princess

    5 November 2019 by

    mashed potatoes
    poached eggs
    and some homemade garlic sauce
    but no meat for the
    princess’s sensitive stomach

    “I’m full,” she said

    “No, you are not,” said mother. “Eat up. Finish
    everything from your plate
    and trust me, it’s been calculated. It’s
    the right amount. Now eat up.”

    Father agreed. Being a step-father he
    didn’t have much of a say in this
    matter or any other

    It took the princess another twenty
    minutes to finish the
    food from her plate
    and then stood
    and went to the bathroom but
    it wouldn’t be that simple. Mother had to go in
    with her

    And she did
    and both of them came out and
    the princess went to her
    and mother started cleaning the table
    always just one step away from
    bursting into tears
    which gave her new husband some work
    with emotional support and all

    A princess doesn’t steal
    but this was a desperate princess
    she locked the door to her room
    and pulled out from under her
    shirt the
    roll of plastic bags
    took one
    opened it
    sat on the bed leaning forward
    elbows on knees
    face before the bag

    and she didn’t even have to
    put the fingers in her mouth
    the vomit just came
    every bit of mashed potatoes
    and poached eggs and every pea
    and the homemade garlic sauce

    She tied the bag
    it felt very warm in her hands
    placed it under her bed
    got her phone and sent a text

    in twenty-something minutes
    he was under her window
    and she threw him the bag of vomit
    and he walked away with it
    carried it to a trash bin far from her home

    He was such a sweet guy for
    doing all this for her
    He was her prince
    Except he still kept his frog form
    even after all the kisses and blowjobs
    after school

    but well,
    when you’re desperate…

  • unlovable trash

    26 October 2019 by

    there’s plenty of cutesy names to
    call one’s children
    but his was ‘unlovable trash’
    He remembered it from the time he was in the crib
    They held him there
    for longer than most parents
    held their kids in cribs. Though only dad
    called him so
    because he constantly claimed he wasn’t his

    unlovable trash

    he had the wrong skin tone
    was too pale
    with curly orange hair
    and freckles

    but mom always pretended she didn’t
    the words
    unlovable trash
    she would act as if they were never uttered

    and growing up
    he thought
    unlovable trash was a good thing
    thought it was how you show love to your loved

    “Mom, you’re unlovable trash.”

    she was so happy to hear it
    she burst into tears and went into the
    kitchen and uncorked a bottle of wine
    and drank it all by herself. What an
    unlovable trash she was

    by the time he could pronounce the lovely
    father was no longer in his life
    but father too
    was an unlovable trash

  • I am hell

    18 October 2019 by

    he could count the major events
    in his life on a
    mangled hand’s fingers
    But this was one of them. The day she took him
    to church.
    So that’s what girlfriends are for.

    But he didn’t like the church
    didn’t like the songs
    didn’t like the preacher and the preaching

    the man spoke of hell. But he
    didn’t know
    shit about hell. No baby, hell’s not a place
    where you go,
    it’s a place where you stay. Namely, a body
    and a mind that has no
    major passions
    no drive towards improvement
    no dreams
    no goals
    no desire to get out and connect with the world
    no love to share
    no stories to tell or disposition to listen
    no reasons to live or carry on

    In other words, me, motherfucker. I am hell.

    He broke up with
    his girlfriend the next day. Her crying didn’t
    affect him

  • INOCENT with a single ‘N’

    16 September 2019 by

    Some daughters love their fathers
    a bit too much
    and their mothers not enough

    This father was a cop,
    the type that deals with the nasty cases
    and he often came home drunk.
    Alcohol did help, he said
    and drank some more on the couch
    and sometimes drank until he passed out

    she was thirteen, his daughter
    and would constantly nag
    him with questions
    about work. He didn’t wanna talk about work,
    about the gruesome details of
    it and all that, but edgy teenagers will be
    edgy teenagers
    She insisted
    and he kept drinking and eventually
    passed out on his side

    She was excited
    took his gun from the holster
    and started studying it with passion
    turning it on all sides, smelling it,
    holding it close
    to the face


    the bullet got her lower jaw
    it was a bloody mess
    and she was in pain and gagging on blood
    and shards of bone and teeth

    to call for help right now
    would be wrong.
    The whole world would accuse daddy
    and he had no fault. And mommy would
    reopen the case and
    have no problem gaining custody of her
    Fuck! This was bad!
    This was so bad!

    And it was getting worse,
    she felt it. Felt close to fainting. Father was still
    on the couch. Passed out drunk.

    She had to take matters into
    her own hands. Shambled
    into the kitchen
    and grabbed the cutting board from
    the table
    and dipped a finger in her bloody mouth
    and wrote with it on the cutting board

    (with a single ‘N’)

    She went outside holding the cutting board
    and knocked on
    the neighbor’s door.

  • The knife listens

    10 September 2019 by

    but that handle was made for his hand
    hand – handle
    handle – hand

    the fingers would close
    around it to never let go
    It had to have flesh around it
    at all times
    But the blade…
    the blade was still naked. He couldn’t let
    the blade naked
    It wasn’t fair

    “So that’s why you stabbed your
    mommy then?” the psychiatrist asked him.

    “Yes,” he said.

    “The knife is more important
    to you than mommy?”

    “The knife listens. Mommy doesn’t.”

  • 14 cigarettes

    9 September 2019 by

    This girl smoked 14 cigarettes in
    a span of one and a half hours

    “Yeah, but they’re slim,” she says

    “But they’re still fourteen.”

    “Yeah, but so am I,” she says.

    “But… you look at least eighteen…”

    “I know. Smoking helps, doesn’t it?”


    “Say, you wanna go to sum’ club right now?”

    “Oh, sorry but, it’s Saturday and… You know, there’s
    church tomorrow morning. I’ve to be up.
    How about you come with me though? And
    my grandma.”

    She laughed
    Lit another cigarette.

  • Bogdan Dragos

    5 September 2019 by

    Originally posted on Horror Sleaze Trash:
    the thing before the thing before the thing because it’s nice to be young because it’s nice to be in your early to mid twenties and it’s nice to do the thing after you’ve done the thing the thing that comes after you’ve done the thing is always the…

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4 thoughts on “DR Bogdan

Add yours

  1. Hope things are cool and hot DR., I’m a bit curious, I was looking over your work, and wonder if you do any strip writing ? I ‘m working on a book that will be a finish play. I don’t want it to get to much graphic dialog but need the iron words to push these concepts. Any suggestions. Like instead of B, or F, MF, I thought Bush Wet, Funk n Fish, Mold Food, well if you get a minute, Thanks.


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