this could get ugly.
spelling is not my strong suit, so...... be ware. be warned.
Rock 'n' roll is better than books. Hot dogs are better than chicken. Rita Hayworth is better than everybody.
Who can believe it's august already?! what happened to summer?! it's way too fucking cold to be august, what was it, like 50 degrees today??? i call fail sauce. You failed weather! FAILED!
I want a sammich. A roast beef, corned beef, ham, italian salami, turkey with bacon sammich. MMMMMMMMMM, sammiches is gewd.
Punk rock is your god. Listen to the ramones your cretins! I don't know why i'm telling you this, nobody listens to good music anymore.
I'm having a Beatles weddding when I get married. All beatles music, beatles themed, a strawberry fields forever cake, wedding party enters to Happiness is a Warm Gun, woo hoo, yeah. Don't judge me.
Now for something serious: Is it just me or does it feel like life is entering a fog? The world is entering a strange confusion; there's something in the air and it aint mint flavored. It's egg sauce and sulfer; it's fire and burnt pizza. It's stale beer and lost youth. Or maybe I'm just cold from the august weather being 500 degrees below average!!!!! Seriously, Al Gore, go eff yourself! Global warming?! It's colder than I can ever remember!!!!!!
I want more. That's all I can think to say.
What is the greatest movie ever made? Pee Wee's Big Adventure.
What is the greatest song ever sung? Big Long Sliding Thing
What are the greatest books ever written? A Song of Ice and Fire series by George RR Martin (what does the RR stand for? I think he just made it up to sound cool.....)
What is the greatest TV show theme song of all time? Green Acres
That's it. I'm cashed. This one goes out to you, Mind Grapes:
Because she didn't believe me when I told her about this song.
Just stick that hunk of meat in the basket. Double entendre, waht?
Showing posts with label drunk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drunk. Show all posts
August 23, 2009
August 16, 2009
drunk pomes
ORANGE SWIRL
In between last night's dream
And the oncoming mosquito invasion,
There was much to think about,
So I sat down and shook the lemon seed and
Out popped anarchy and the birdman, who said:
"Watch me levitate beyond your freeloading vice,
And consider with dexterity your next move."
I did just that and flipped on the hockey game.
It was bloody, with blade-skated throats.
Octopi floated from the ceiling and the
Insect invasion began.
I was glad to be in pajamas, which is
What I told my push pop.
In between last night's dream
And the oncoming mosquito invasion,
There was much to think about,
So I sat down and shook the lemon seed and
Out popped anarchy and the birdman, who said:
"Watch me levitate beyond your freeloading vice,
And consider with dexterity your next move."
I did just that and flipped on the hockey game.
It was bloody, with blade-skated throats.
Octopi floated from the ceiling and the
Insect invasion began.
I was glad to be in pajamas, which is
What I told my push pop.
drunk
well. here i am. wasted as usual. what's the frequency? who knows, except I don't. I don't know anything except this keyboard is too hard to type on and I'm too drunk on highballs/whiskey to care. What's the point of it all? Except I'm too young for life in this world, I don't live like I'm young anymore, except I live like I'm too young. I don't like modern dance music, if that's what they even call it. Hollywood calls out to me like it calls all sad, insecure, creative, neurotic people.... Hellos, hollywood friends, I miss you and I miss my dreams, they are about the same thing these days...
There is a feeling, I can't quite tap into it, but it's there, hiding amongst the brain matter of the 20something generation, it's a real thing, it's a truth, that this thing, that sees beauty, it sees beyond the empty shell of millennial life, it knows that there are things worth loving, things worth believing, even if these things are nothing more than a flicker of quicksilver light, they are things more believable, more real than saturday night suburban bars, more true than pulsating nonsense -- I have seen the end of days and they are less populated than you would believe. Not everybody makes it to the end. If only a diner were a sacred place, we would all end up there by 4 am.
I see the eternal diner in florescent bursts, it is a marvel. I see all the books I should have read. I see the music enlightenment, but sadly nobody else hears the tune. I wish you could laugh along with me at the futility. I laugh too much. I laugh at everything and all things, I'm never serious except when I am and it's not appropriate. I don't fit in.
That's the last word, basically. I don't fit it. I've never fit in, I never will, just stop trying and all will be well. There is a hole in the world and that whole is filled with shit, and I can't remember anything but it, nothing but empty eyes, empty mouths, empty heads, silly unchallenged dumbass twits, I guess I'm a snob afterall. Ah well, what the hell, I never pretended to be anything but a bitch. Embrace it, I guess.
There are two truths I know: 1. Rock & Roll is better when it's shit and 2. Regular people are boring.
Bring on the misanthropy.
There is a feeling, I can't quite tap into it, but it's there, hiding amongst the brain matter of the 20something generation, it's a real thing, it's a truth, that this thing, that sees beauty, it sees beyond the empty shell of millennial life, it knows that there are things worth loving, things worth believing, even if these things are nothing more than a flicker of quicksilver light, they are things more believable, more real than saturday night suburban bars, more true than pulsating nonsense -- I have seen the end of days and they are less populated than you would believe. Not everybody makes it to the end. If only a diner were a sacred place, we would all end up there by 4 am.
I see the eternal diner in florescent bursts, it is a marvel. I see all the books I should have read. I see the music enlightenment, but sadly nobody else hears the tune. I wish you could laugh along with me at the futility. I laugh too much. I laugh at everything and all things, I'm never serious except when I am and it's not appropriate. I don't fit in.
That's the last word, basically. I don't fit it. I've never fit in, I never will, just stop trying and all will be well. There is a hole in the world and that whole is filled with shit, and I can't remember anything but it, nothing but empty eyes, empty mouths, empty heads, silly unchallenged dumbass twits, I guess I'm a snob afterall. Ah well, what the hell, I never pretended to be anything but a bitch. Embrace it, I guess.
There are two truths I know: 1. Rock & Roll is better when it's shit and 2. Regular people are boring.
Bring on the misanthropy.
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