Lost Cause, Cold Beer In the Dark

You can lead a Jew to Christ, but you can't make him drink.
Peter's in the quicksand, he is starting to sink.

They tell you to begin at the beginning. They want to know. But we all know that they are wrong. Those people, those ubiquitous they, would tell you life was like a high school lunchroom. Do you want those people telling your story, or better yet, telling you how to tell a story. Of course not. Anyone who uses trite and non specific metaphors to convince you of their point of view should be ignored, possibly mocked. I mean, high school lunch room. Please paint that picture for the digital camera youth. Well you see, they (again, an appearance) would make vague, out-dated references to the cliques and the wearisome cliche of high school. Did you just shudder too? I hope so. When you tell a story, you have to make sure everyone knows where you stand. Perspective, like love, is specific. You don't want to encompass everybody, you aren't a bloody local news helicopter, making everything so small and unrecognizable as to encompass everybody. You are'nt some religious group doing the same, using the trite human condition trope to part the gullible and the sensitive from their assets and salvation. But I am, professionally speaking. I am working for the Horsemen, now the Jukebox of Human Destruction, or just Jukebox until an email is formed and properly circulated. More on that.

	Ryan Adams - English Girls Approximately .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

If you know me, let me know your thoughts on the intro. Or anything, whatever.

Cos It Already It Is

For Jane by Charles Bukowski






225 days under grass
and you know more than I.
they have long taken your blood,
you are a dry stick in a basket.
is this how it works?
in this room
the hours of love
still make shadows.

when you left
you took almost
everything.
I kneel in the nights
before tigers
that will not let me be.

what you were
will not happen again.
the tigers have found me
and I do not care.

	Talking Heads - Love -] Building on Fire .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

Flash Fire Tropes

The immolation, the immortality. At odds with the ends. The casting of a wide net with a specific catch in mind. The elusive right in front of you colorblind pinata, waiting for someone to beat the candy out of it. The desire for open-minded precision, as opposed to the by-the-numbers figure of beauty. A dry erase slate for a meteor shower mind. Clean, impermanent; again and again. Dirt on your hands, blood on your face. The rarefied air comes in waves and miles to go until you leap. The literary dance in a minefield of popular expression. Oh yes, that would be the fox(hole)trot, where you find neither atheists or enthusiasts.

Kristtalnacht

I dont know what it is with me and vending machines. Tonight, just a normal night, I was downstairs helping my sister in the laundry room. We were folding clothes, shooting the shit, in the empty room. This big, cute guy comes in and puts some money in the snack machine. His Peanut M&Ms get stuck. He tries to tilt the machine, to no avail. I walk over and lend my assistance. I use my shoulder, with all the force of shutting a locked car and the glass breaks. All of it. All over me. Blood, glass, silence.

Other than that, great Popeye's filled day. Trying to figure out how to apply for a government job. Hint, trying to go postal. Right up my alley, I know.

I found this terrifying Victorian kitten e-card thing that has so far yielded hours of entertainment. I read an article about stab proof vests for the World Cup. I am reading a book about the art of killing in 20th century wars from the perspective of the soldier's and their family. I read an article about 30 hornets massacring 30,000 bees. The world is such a fascinating place. I had a great time at the Aquarium and eating vegan enchiladas, watching the Simpsons with the kids and a friend from high school.

I hope its true what they say about chicks diggin' scars. And by chicks I mean potential employers.

Lost Weekend(With You)

You were always someone I admired. To feel something in this generation, to be proud of wanting to see the silver lining instead of fret about the rainstorm was always inspiring. I was a coward, and you know how I feel about cowards. It is so easy to get the cheap laugh, to want to minimize everything in the hopes you will feel nothing. You were brave, a target in fashionable clothes and I was a drunken archer. I am sorry. I mean, we all have our reasons, justifications, and some come out brighter than others, but I am ashamed of myself for not just saying ALOUD that I prefer our tea drinking and optimism to guttersniping. I know I am good at using my quick wit to cut throats, but it doesnt mean I should succumb to it.

The past year was probably the worst ever, for a lot of reasons. Unemployment, moving and utter isolation will do that. We could have made each other's transitions easier, but like you say, pride cuts both ways.

It is so hard to admit that it is okay to see the bright side. To close the scope to a level that includes only things that will make me smile, rather than piss me off. I am falling for someone and it feels nice. Even if it doesn't last, even if he is just a roadblock to an eventual gravestone, who cares. I have spent so much time just building myself a tower so I don't have to talk to anyone, and yet feel a part of the "common people". Nothing has been gained by the sidelines. I'm finally ready to get messy in humanity.

I finally found a man who likes: me , tea, limes, kids, kittens, to make fun of porn. I asked Adam if liking him made me gay. He said probably, but you need this so I am going to be supportive. A big thank you to all my friends for putting up with so much and getting nothing but cheap laughs in return. One day I'm going to be a great person, and then maybe we can even it out.

I dont like life after Calvin&Hobbes. Sidney Carton losing his head, a violent, bloody mob. I'll find you in the rubble, Making time, making trouble.
Van Gogh was a fan of playing it by ear too.
Taking the high road is a solitary journey most of the time.
"reading your blog is like blowing way too much cocaine" the transcript of infatuation, too hard to be simple. "Is my misunderstanding a dealbreaker" No Solomon, honesty is not a dealbreaker.
All the shows and all the blow, worth it. What a generation of worthless trust fund babies,I can't wait to fucking join them.
"The future! That's yesterday's news!"

I'm drinking a 40, seeing all your faces. I'll never forget you, despite all the spaces.

	The National - Mr November .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

FULL

Milo "Statler",

A toast. To all those drowning in their own depth while the shallow enjoy the waves. All the treading water, when the life preserver is too close for discomfort. When I think of love, I think of songs detailing its demise, it has died a thousand more. You told me you didn't know whether to be offended or if you wanted more. I think that was the moment. To hear desires of a non sexual nature aloud is almost more perverse, to give them life and watch them grow. To acknowledge for all your black hearted cynicism, you want a picnic in the park, and that park isnt the apocalypse. That old heart erection, that fills you with butterflies and feels kind of like food poisoning. The same reason people search for life on other planets, without looking for one on this one. To feel connected. To feel less alone. To have someone to examine the sea life with. I think I have it bad.

RE Avatar "Blues" - I propose a dramatic re-imagining of Dante's Inferno/Groundhog's Day set in an Applebee's. No one will is depressed by their reality. It is only fantasy, the possibility of something better/different/new that evokes that kind of emotional diarrhea. "All the apples out of reach, all the things too enchanted to teach."
Here's a mixtape for you

	The Replacements - Kiss Me On the Bus .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

http://rapidshare.com/files/339138009/09.-_Sour_Cherry.mp3.html
http://rapidshare.com/files/339138010/This_Is_What_I_Want.mp3.html
http://rapidshare.com/files/339138011/Replacements-Kiss_Me_On_The_Bus.mp3.html
http://rapidshare.com/files/339138012/Pattern_Is_Movement_-_Crazy_In_Love__Beyonce_Cover_.mp3.html
http://rapidshare.com/files/339138013/julianplenti_onlyifyourun.mp3.html
http://rapidshare.com/files/339138014/i-love-how-you-love-me-live-phil-spector-cover.mp3.html
http://rapidshare.com/files/339138015/jay_reatard_wounded.mp3.html
http://rapidshare.com/files/339138016/06-lessons-learned.mp3.html
http://rapidshare.com/files/339138018/Garbage_-_When_I_Grow_Up.mp3.html
http://rapidshare.com/files/339138019/02-yeasayer-ambling_alp.mp3.html

We Just Killed our Parents, Wanna Makeout?

Up in the Air really speaks to the zeitgeist.
"I'm going to marry my career". "You are unemployed". "Yeah, I know."
CAPRICORNS!!!
Pad thai, vodka tonic, cold weather.
I think I am going to apply for an adult website reviewer... big money, for sitting on my ass all day.

Just like a blood stain

It seems the good wont come out. I have spent an hour tracing my lineage by social networks and I am amazed. Im a good writer. Really. I have some good stuff. I am able to do good things. I have an idea of what the roadblock is, but no DOT crew to suss it out. I suppose having talent really isnt the issue. A wasted life is a waste, end of story. It just feels weird to think I am writing my biography and eulogy at the same time. I can remember almost everything that caused me to write whatever blurb I did. Who it was about, what was going on where I was, whether or not I was being saracastic. I suppose it is unreasonable to assume anyone else would understand what the hell I was babbling about. I recently heard someone tell me, you work too hard to be simple, although if he could see inside my head he might be disgusted how effortless it all is.

Sea Change Clothes

You took the words right out of my mouth
On a bed of thorns, I watched them sprout
Comfort is hard, on a hammock I sway
The crashing cars getting out of my way.
We make it up
We go along
We fill our cup
We might be wrong
I like falling in between the lines
Falling back on crooked spines
Back and forth from right and wrong
Falling asleep to a familiar song

Dubious Buff

I'd marry you for papers, but I'm already legal, getting masked like capers, nocturnal like tapirs. Accounts tight like Kegel's, all over the place like Flock of Seagull's thirty years ago, with the Karate Kid selling out the dojo. Other mother fuckers talking about their cash flow, disco weed like hydro, leave a trail of beers and weaves, I've got divination like seers and thieves.
So yeah, we should start a hip hop club or some shit like chess with 40s.

The end of something

Pizza boxes, condom wrappers for fat people. Or the graveyard of poor decisions, depends on your pizza addiction level.
Roman was using chopsticks as drumsticks and being hilarious. I said he was being a little Anti-Christ-ish. My sister replied, the Anti-Christ is charming. Not Roman. Also, Bella got this "princess" shoes, (plastic hooker shoes). Truly Serra's daughter, running through a field in hooker heels.

Sushi buffet, I will miss you most of all.

This is how I know

Milo,

Got more moves than an epileptic on a dancefloor, looser than the stretch pants Al Sharpton wore, dropping rhymes like bombs on buildings, using the dreamscape as firewood kindling.
Burt's Bees lip gloss, tacos, adventure, the history of black metal and this country. I went to this liquor store today and they had a sign up that mini bottles of E&J VOP Brandy would NOW be sold behind the counter. They also had mini bottles of single malt 12 year old scotch. What a world. My sister told me that if I kept being so picky, I would starve. She may have a point. She almost left me at a stop light because I told her she had been bamboozled at Taco Bell and she could have saved $3. She freaked out a bit. Some yelling. But when I started laughing at her, she calmed down. She is a bit cranky when she is skress'd and tired, as we all know. I remember this one time I said something judging books by their cover and she said it didnt apply to her because she didnt read.
"What a terrible life" and "Seeing the future is such an ugly thing". This after telling me he learned to play the Cymbalta piano piece while at home for the holidays. I think that is funny for many reasons. He probably sent those texts when a child was hugging an elderly family member, or when someone paid him a compliment. A story can be airlifted onto any line.
I never liked fish tacos, but two people I knew and now miss liked them. And now I want one.
Roman was wearing his Little Hipster shirt while wearing Bella's fairy wings asking Serra to spank him. I can't wait until he grows up.

HOLY SHIT. Thermals playing a free show in a few months. To think four years ago I paid some kid in drugs and cigarettes to drive me 4 hours to see them play for 30 minutes to an indifferent crowd.

On A Good One ...

I thought you were older than me because you graduated before me. That's because you got held back, you asshole. Motherfucker reading Pride and the Prejudice going on first date after first date, always getting the appetizer and never the entree. She's cute but she's got an attitude to boot, walking around with his pink cellphone, thinking he shat the subway line. The New York of the South, blowing on his French manicured nails.
Uh, he just said he's a Grey's Anatomy junkie, now this is getting funny.

I am having a great year. A great decade even. Out of the blue people from the past are blowing my ego like it was getting them a part in Cruel Intentions IV - Taste takes a Roman Shower. He told me he was high on nostalgia, Beck might as well be gnawing on his cock. The undertaker isnt the only one who prays for train wrecks. I feel like the atheist should just pray for success.

All this people who made me laugh, think or even tear up a little seem to be telling me something. New people, new things. I am so fucking stoked for the future, which I havent been in a while.

Two Libras told me the same thing today, 1,200 miles apart. Why do I feel more like a precocious 16 yr old rather than a mid20s failure. Because it's not over yet. There is no time limit on getting your shit together, though the consensus is sooner rather than later. Sometimes we keep ourselves lame to get someone to carry us, because we fear we would never keep up if the playing field were level. Somehow I think Woody Allen is responsible for this neurotic self reflection... "The commentary becomes dissent, dysentery."

The mother Mary played by Diane Keaton, It was an abortion Joseph!
Androgyny is lazy.
Marry Me, Faggot!

Ah

So this is what happy feels like.
We are all byproducts of environments. I lived under power lines. Rather than focus on the toxic waste of the world, I would like to focus on the single flower.

If you bring the fire, I'll bring the heat.

I'm not really liking how the current job market is like last call on a Monday night. I got a call today where the hiring guy sounded like he was trying to convince me to go to Prom with him. "You..., you are a bit over qualified"... Me, "Well, I would like the opportunity to work with you, as I can read and thus understand the alphabet." Him: "Do you think you would like working here" Me: (privately, who the hell cares if I like it, I want to go somewhere other than the mailbox to check my Netflix." I want this to be the decade of no pajamas outdoors.

I remember when we used to bump coke and listen to your I-pod well past the wee hours of the morning. Tweaking in the only gay club in town, smoking two for one cigarettes and getting drunk before we got there in your car. Yeah, it was our playground. The different groups we assembled like the lines in the bathroom and gone just as quickly. I have recently got in touch with our old dealers, users, friends I guess you could call them. His acrylic nails and gelled up hair, my tranny couple neighbors who loved Ruby Tuesday and double entendres, my military roommates with their guns upstairs and our felonies downstairs, all the people who hooked up on that couch, sake bombers, driving two states to gamble and drink, watching the middle aged, middle class charade unravel, finding new ways to be different, Barnes and Noble parking lot and Starbucks ideology. There were funerals. There were things we may never admit but always regret. The erosion of sense as the drugs had kicked, you could pinpoint the moment in our lives when the therapist would cash in. Against the Wind as a soundtrack to our youth that was now miles away.There was some college in there, some shitty jobs. You were pretty constant.

The past days have brought upon a powerful wave of nostalgia. As I type this, I am listening to Oasis' What's the Story Morning Glory. Go figure. I keep thinking about you. And I keep thinking about happiness, in all its fleeting forms. Roman had a bucket on his earlier singing a song while covered in Mac'N Cheese. I suppose these are things. We are present for few events, we get to choose even less. Sometimes a kind word and a forwarded video are going to be the highlights. Things will never be the same and everything ends. I guess it wouldnt kill me to pretend I'm having a good time. Because I do love you. I know what that feels like. And I am meeting new people to these jokes to.

I told you I love you today because I wanted you to know. We have known each other too long for it not to have come up. I am excited about the future, a little bit I guess because in the end we all are pop junkies. Endings, happy or otherwise indicate a story that was told. No better time to start than now.

Memory Lane is a Cul de Sac

A line drawn together of the one, eye and coke variety.
Someone who doesn't distinguish fame from notoriety.

I don't want someone to sweep me off my feet, or to open a door
I just want someone to keep a beat, show me what I'm for.
Claiming truth and entertainment are the same thing
Maybe if your glasses are showing you the fame thing
Flashing lights of arrest or adoration
Shaman priests and a cult of intention
All we want is the heartfelt intervention
To do it up and to take it back in the case of the ascension
Being bored, floored, drilled,
Whored, grilled, thrilled
The flesh is the meat, the wordplay the evolution
The puns are the proof of the state wide institution
The more you expose me, the more foundation you get
A landmark or a theme park
They are still charging at the gate
All this authenticity wrapped in shiny plastic
The meaning disappears as soon as you grasped it

Manners

Futuristic nostalgia, it's going to be big. Pop stars can't ever top Roman emperors crucifixion/orgies/vomitoriums vs Blood/glitter/ringtone.

An astronomer in a black hole. A lifevest in a sunken ship. A clean suit on a corpse. A birthday cake in a retirement home. Standing around waiting for that hasn't happened yet. The living pray to the long dead stars, sustained by the faith we found in waiting rooms and bars. Killed myself and sold the rights, I'm epic now I'm told. The past will always be the present, because we remain constant in our shock. This retro glam coffin blasting us to Planet Tool, the underground made visible, the exception to the rule. The human condition was epoch when it's old. The countdown started halfway through the show, the fisherman on top of the water watched the undertow. This intermission until the finale, well that's where we'll be, nothing more than playbills and popcorn boxes in the grand scheme.

If you have ever sat on a beach in the quiet dark, felt the scope with the silence, you know that the in between is the best it gets. It depends on your venue, but your song is irrelevant.

A line on hotel Bible, getting you through the day. A hook in your head, a soundtrack for your stay.

Amy Winehouse is Still My Spirit Animal

Fuck Yes! @ Chelsea Lately, Parenthood, Youth in Revolt, Yeasayer
What the Fuck @ Fast food restaurants trying to get you to buy their shitty products by announcing how much they used to suck and begging you to come back. America's relationship with food is fucked up enough, we don't need to add beer battered wife syndrome to (Domino's New Unshitty Pizza, McDonald's Mystery Now We Are White Nuggets, Hardee's Spicy Anal Bleed Burger? It's six kinds of sick, and here for a limited time only. )

The pool outside is frozen over. There is a Natural Light can in the ice like a tiny glacier, which makes me think of that Left Behind book series.
"She is not a crackwhore. She is a millionaire who made questionable decisions and great music. Like most bitches. I love her.....I'd take her just the way she is, crotch rot and track marks and all. Haha write my marriage vows for me. Oh, I definately will.

How apropos is it I have a heart to heart with my sister in a laundromat? Even after telling my sister her hooker name would be the Butcher, because she charges by the pound and all tasteless roast beef jokes.

Laughter is the best medicine, that's why I love to go to the ER without insurance, so funny.

Last but not least, the thrilling conclusion to my encounter with the hot sorority girl off her meds at Waffle House!

I am a good Samaritan. Although I cannot recollect the rest of that story and am far too lazy to Wikipedia selections from "the Bible", here are some more texts from that crazy girl I met before Christmas. Good news, she lives in the Ville. I smell romance, and fun stories for the kids about what "being off meds" can entail. Enjoy.

{I'm so much better thank you! I was literally crazy because I was off my meds, thank you for being my Christmas angel! I seriously wondered if you had been a delusion or a real angel until your text (you're in my phone as Erin Waffle Angel lol)
Yes! Back and better than ever. I'm still recovering from telling this guy all my delusions, but there are plenty of fish in the sea right?}

I would love to be dramatically reenacted on the Hallmark Channel, I think Janeane Garoflo is still looking for work....

I am totally going to hang out with her the next time I am in Gainesville (to the tune of reunited and it feels so good).

Yours in Christ,

Oh Yeah, The List

Dont think that's not in the rotation. So here are my Top 10 Songs of the Year Previous To This One. To Radiohead's new album!


1. All Packed Up- Idiot Glee
2. Lisztomania - Phoenix
3. Solitude - Girls
4. Sleep All Summer - The National/St.Vincent
5. Unknown - Kurt Vile
6. Suicide - The Raveonettes
7. Favorite Song - KaiserCartel
8. Hearing Damage - Thom Yorke
9. Hi-Fi Goon - Throw Me the Statue
10. At The Bottom of the Sea - The Thermals

Thanks to Glee for providing hours of entertainment, and special thanks to Kristen Chenowith's "Maybe this Time"

Dark Was The Night, Twilight, and already I have forgotten the year. All those comps for the people who died, died.

Optimism or Entitlement

If you like spray tan hookers and greasy shiny Guidos, then this is your Valhalla. You earned it.
In the course of a day, I say all kinds of funny things. It's like, yeah, I'm fucking hilarious and edgy and culture(d) like penicillin, so why are daily human interactions and personal relationships so difficult and complicated for me ... Like many of my fellow Gen 2K(Too Large)ers, I'm better on the internet. It's not so much the grass is greener or the air is cleaner, your bullshit as fertilizer, to my pesticide humor and graveyard sensibilities.
They say blood is thicker than water, which is fine unless you are a part of the royal family. Hemophilia will kill you.
When you orgasm, does nacho cheese get stuck in your mustache?
If real men love Jesus, everyone else loves anal sex. For real, I am making t-shirts that say Marriage is for Faggots/Dykes whichever and want to make some sweet money while making a statement. The American Wetdream. "I want one. Can I have it in vagina pink? kthx" Well, whose vagina...
I have always felt that being filled with the Christmas Spirit, or Christ's love means either: having inappropriate sexual thoughts about religious(imaginary) figures, a precursor to a DUI/Court TV debut. I wasn't born cynical, but I did grow into it.
"with a fistful of pills and jokes that ride the laugh to keep from crying line all the way to the jail cell?
bitch just called me to tell me he bought press on nails to feel like a diva
ghetto diva maybe
shit. mother fucker eating mayo sandwiches and wearing 100 dollar cologne
goddamn ghetto, bars on the windows, rims on the cars
babies on welfare, mommas in bars

"stuck in a nether world of sublime understanding about the ordinary bullshit of life and the depression one feels as they fully become an adult." Thank you.

If you dont die laughing, what a fucking waste

Reminding you: We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.

you turned my bedroom into a graveyard/cold air&stone numbers so far/you are already dead to me/had such fun writing the eulogy

I like writing lyrics for music I can't hear. I like how you turn a sentiment into a genre into a trash can in a matter of chords. I am all performance value.

Fucking scalpers are ruining my year. BULLSHIT.