December 2010
155 posts
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Hush, It Will Go to My Head - Whale Bones
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Some idiot spelled “theirs” as “their’s”
THAT IS NOT EVEN A WORD
PLEASE LEARN YOUR NATIVE LANGUAGE OKAY THANK YOU
Usually
When I am assigned a certain piece of literature to read in my English Lit course, I give it a chance for a while, I try not to pass judgement on it before giving it a chance, disregarding opinions of others so I can develop my own. But, The Scarlet Letter has so far been so boring that after 45 minutes of reading it I don’t know what’s going on anymore. My mind wandered off and the...
The Disappearing Seaman
O my dead sailor
we know those times
when to give up
is all we want
but all we do not know how to do
.
So the sea can take you
but me
I am landlocked
much too dry to drown in the desert
O my dead sailor
I envy you
O my dead sailor
that I could trade places with you
to disappear as you do
O I envy you
“Your bones are crooked, precious,
Dear misshapen things.
Echo like me
Fade....”
– Whale Bones
“Were you inspired? Feeling on fire? It’s like a torch in a dark place, something...”
– Joshua Solomon
Walked into the grocery store
to buy rice
AND EVERYONE WAS STARING AT ME
I DON’T KNOW WHY PLEASE STOP STARING AT ME
AH
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Well, I am not surprised.
It always seems to happen this way.
At least I have a shiny new CD to load onto my computer and add to my collection.
Plus, the guy that works in the Music section at Barnes & Noble is cute.
I have a crush on him.
Hehe
Except I don’t, but I wish I did. I wish I knew how to have a crush again. I forgot how.
That little something is beautiful.
But then it gets all crushed up and hidden away and ignored.
Now it’s not so pretty.
“I can’t go to prison, Roy! They’ll rape the flip out of me!!”
– Moss (from the I.T. Crowd)
On being an Artist and/or a Poet
Today a poet said to me “half the time I don’t even know what I write until after I’ve written it,” and I think it sums up art quite nicely. People will look at a drawing you did, or read a bit of a verse you wrote, and they will ask you what you were thinking when you made it. What was I thinking? Do you think I can remember? It’s a stream of consciousness, you see,...
I wrote a letter.... by Donald Barthelme →
I wrote a letter to the President of the moon, asked him if they had towaway zones up there. The cops had towed away my Honda and I didn’t like it. Cost me seventy-five dollars to get it back, plus the mental health. You ever notice how the tow trucks pick on little tiny cars? You ever seen them hauling off a Chrysler Imperial? No, you haven’t.
The President of the moon replied most courteously...
This morning I am having a picnic breakfast
because that’s what the cool kids do.
Shh, it'll go to my head.
Does the weather bode well?
Indeed, it does.
Does the weather bode well?
It is just perfect, today and tomorrow.
What happens tomorrow?
Something for out-of-doors.
I like the out-of-doors
when the weather bodes well.
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And I exist again!
How about that?
People. They are odd creatures.
Falling off the planet now, seeyalater
I'll be done with the Man Man spam after this one... →
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An addition to the list of albums I would like to...
Man Man - Rabbit Habits
Today
I look like a Chinese Communist hobo, according to my dad.
Man, I love my dad.
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Hanging out with Carlos.
The banjo.
Carlos the banjo.
Yesterday I wanted to watch Horton Hears a Who
but it was Christmas Eve, and the movie rental place probably wasn’t open. Then today, it came on TV.
Funny how life works sometimes.
Merry Christmas :)
I had the most Irish breakfast ever today.
Leftover corned beef and toast (potato bread, mind you) with jam.
And coffee of course.
Oh, also, thought you should know that I got This is Not a Book for Christmas and I am way excited for it :D