Thursday, November 30, 2006
Dear Dreamers
Dear Poster Child,
I hung your poster up on my bedroom wall, and wanted to express my gratitude for the image that hangs above my head as dreams loom just out of reach. I've never seen a kitten throw a hammer at a cowboy before, but I'm sure it would land with as much impact in his skull as it has in my life.
I quit my job and reluctantly fininshed school, and yet, something was still amiss. I was drifting on a collision course with the sun. Not literally of course, though the earth will eventually explode or the sun will the scientists are saying. But that's none of my concern.
The problem is I've never met a cowboy. Sure, I've seen the movies and gone to those expensive cowboy simulation ranches, the fantasy camps, and even got a fancy degree in the next best thing to cowboyonomy (beastwrangling). But I've never met no fast-talking, gun-slinging, hard-farting, Pocahontas, blanket-giving cowboy.
Can you make a dying boy's dream come true? I know you are no longer a child as this poster was printed in 1976, and the law of statistics suggests that at least one out of two people have met a real cowboy. Have you?
Look me up, I'm in the phone book.
Signed,
Your #5312 Fan
P.S. Thanks for assigning my fanhood a rank and number based on the order in which I joined.
Posted by David at 9:46 PM 0 comments
MEXICOPS: THE REAL STORY
Hank loaded into his station at exactly 3:49PM. He'll never forget it because his watch read 3:49PM. Mr. Lopez successfully loaded an entire can of beans into his mouth, and he was no longer hungry. Lucky thing too, as it was ten miles of bad road between then and lunch time. And he was just the man to bridge that gap, then burn that bridge. One more thing. On the other side of the bridge was going to be a children's hospital.
Hank Lopez is just one third of the daring MEXICOPS unit.
Senor Aaron is up next. Boy can this guy knit a pair of socks with the short hairs of his least favorite enemies. Did he mention his enemies? They're all dead thanks to a deadly case of face poisoning. That's right. He punched them all in the face. All at once. Senor Aaron has a gargantuan fist. That's why the ladies call him Lucky Larry.
Senor Aaron is just one third of the explosive MEXICOPS unit.
Reporting for duty is Timothy Baniel. He's got a short temper and he's long on rope. He works in a rope factory, but he quit that bullshit after about 1,000 seconds. Oh by the way, Timothy Baniels lives in the moment. What seems like 1,000 seconds to you and me is a lifetime exploded with a roundhouse kick by Timothy Baniels. I think he lives in a dumpster or something.
Timothy Baniels is just one third of the cavernous MEXICOPS unit.
Together, they are three thirds of the exciting new MEXICOPS unit.
This is MEXICOPS!!!
Previously, on MEXICOPS
HANK
Alright men, here's the situation. Sneaky Simon locked us in this dungeon full of beans. Aaron, get punching. I'm gonna start eating.
AARON
Okay Lopez. I'll get ready my fist punchers. It's clobbering-time. With my hands!
TIMOTHY
Hey you guys, stop. What's this?
AARON
It's a door!
NEXT TIME ON MEXICOPS!!!
[yes this is drawing #400]
Posted by David at 6:27 PM 1 comments
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
keep on a-lookin'
you never made time
until you drained out the clock
and the point was always made
without ever having to talk
Posted by David at 9:25 AM 0 comments
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
thanks for the cards
a lighter touch with some heavy hands
reaching into deeper pockets
jolted into the eye sockets
to retrieve some greater truth
sent away to a PO Box
anonymous reply
some distance away
in an unmarked letter
vintage stamps
the skywriter's message was cloudy
i inhaled the note
and coughed deeply
the tears wept over an open flame
still, my name's the same
Posted by David at 11:05 PM 0 comments
insert inert
you hitched your star to mine in a trailer park
you reached out to me but it was a shot in the dark
at best it made things worse
soon enough it'll all be over
egg on my face
i've had enough
i shot the stars out of my gun
it was target practice
i missed at best
if i hit something i'll pay for the damage
the window cracked
and years later i heard a crash
i went to investigate signs of life
but wound up where i started instead
a roadside map got me lost
and a highway got me feelin' so low
subhuman in the basement
the main attraction was a preview
the ticket was lost in the mail
so happy holidays
and don't give up the ghost
though it gave up on you
long ago
in a moment froze
a jar catching fireflies
in a paper forest
the blaze stayed
and passed through the night
like a dream it wouldn't stay
more flies in honey
fly paper just won't learn to stay
so i gave up on drinking the water
the horse just stays around to say my name
Posted by David at 9:59 PM 0 comments
Monday, November 20, 2006
hey peach fuzz i got some bearded grapes
you been doin' all that growin' up you talked so much about?
well i'll meet you at the grave!
THIS WILL BE THE LAST DRAWING FOR A LITTLE WHILE AS I AM BEING COURT ORDERED TO STOP.
THE FUN WILL RESUME IN A WEEK OR SO (with #400.)
Posted by David at 8:53 PM 0 comments
open letter to a closed mind
go ahead,
keep acting like you've got nothing left to lose
you're left chewing your last tooth
sucking off the back of your throat
trying to survive the tail spin
of an open grave
you fall asleep face down
on a rake skinned beach
you open a bowl of cherries like it's everybody's party
you act like you don't know how you feel
how do you feel?
did you just turn the heart on
did you read the warranty manual?
fill out the registration card
and send it off
for Mr. Mailman to send it away
Thanks Mr. Mailman for all the mail
you're doing a bang up job and I'm sorry
for when everyone says "going postal" in a bad way
They probably should mean it in a nicer way
but no one ever stops to talk like they used to
Anyway I gotta get going.
Posted by David at 1:20 AM 0 comments
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Dear termites: leave my skull a latchkey child
These are the rules. We all agreed to them.
We all share the same car, and we all live in the same city.
It's not my fault you don't live in my house, and it isn't my fault either.
Help meet my eye to see eye-to-eye.
Let's get this jet rip roaring drunk and ride the waves.
Information travels faster in the modern age, and chivalry died on the table.
Quit speaking in sentence fragments kept alive via cryogenics.
You'll live to regret it and your tongue clipped its wings long ago.
When the fist hits the skin it helps the bottle spin for the kissing game.
There's no winner, there's no loser, just the players.
The rules were lost long ago but the King rules supremely..
No one questions his authority and he mandated we all share this stupid car.
It's not stupid, but the car is.
It just finished remedial home school for inward children, looking out toward their future.
It's foggy at best.
You sent me a message from a sky writer,
but it was cloudy at best.
The best way to deliver an honest message is via double meanings and assumptions. Don't even talk to me if you want to glean information. I'll decipher it with a decoder. I'll go home to North Dakota. My house is surrounded by beams. I'll drop the car off near your work so you'll have to rollerblade there next time.
Bombs away, grenades come near.
The narrator gave away the ending for the last damn time.
I was angry before but I forgot to foreshadow.
Now I'm sleeping in the shade 'cause it's cooler in my blood.
The message is clearer than mud, and stupid expressions say more than an honest greeting card.
It isn't stupid, but the car is.
And we've gotta share it.
So use the fucking car pool lane.
That's what it's for.
It's not a swimming pool.
Posted by David at 11:35 AM 0 comments
Friday, November 17, 2006
Thursday, November 16, 2006
sometimes it's just sometimes
African rugs on the floor
And imported stains on the mattress
Iodine and Iowine
Brain rattler's in the shrub
Time to do the dishes
He slowly composes haikus
While the master grows weary at an expert speed
Advanced to the next level
Counting ceiling tiles.
Posted by David at 10:23 PM 0 comments
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
smile cracked the windows
I hid the truth in a got-danged cookie jar. No one looks there unless they're hungry. And that won't be a problem anymore.
Posted by David at 10:03 AM 0 comments
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
If you rearrange the letters in "Elvis" you get "sviel"
Turns out you can go totally blind by staring at the microwave waiting for your dinner. But you can't get full by staring at the TV Dinner.
Who came up with that great idea?
Posted by David at 11:59 PM 0 comments
Monday, November 13, 2006
people love the new yorker 15
Art Work : I appear in this short film. If you like funny, that is this film's intention. It hits where the laugh center of your brain where it lives. In your brain.
ENJOY!
Posted by David at 9:00 PM 1 comments
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Friday, November 10, 2006
just shove a damn cracker down his throat
Confidence conned me into being a weakling
Like syrup dropping from a sapling
I was just another fool waiting in a line
"I only wandered in to get in off the street," he said.
She wasn't sure what that meant so she went out to get away from his static.
But no matter the perception, her reception was perfectly clear.
No tinfoil hat was necessary to block out thoughts because he was already blocked on all channels.
After we switched seats we were all headed in the same direction off an all too familiar cliff.
The precipice cut my teeth and all new toupee came crashing down.
"It looks so life like," said the corpse.
The circuit board bent to break my will.
A living testament to the fact that I'm kinda still alive anyway. Hello.
Posted by David at 11:55 PM 0 comments
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Also the phoenix likes Mexican breakfast foods
Citizens arrest in a lawn chair
I caught you looking at me for the very last time
It lasted too long
No go away and don't stare at my clothes
I got it off the rack from a caveman
I don't trust him
I can't throw anyone too far
His nose was too big
He had a nose for news
It was real big news but he couldn't smell it all the same
Fish wrapped in newspaper is not really a good gift
But people always say it's more fun to receive a gift than to give
People say a lot of things
Playing cards too close to their chests
And their hearts on their sleeves
The anatomy is messed up
But the principle is the same
Alert the forces, push the shove
BBQ Sauce streaming live on the web
Click to download the rest of your life
Spoiler alert
You'll die alone but at least it'll be a pleasant funeral
You met your true love on April Fools Day
Now you have to go out in the rain
I invested it all in practical jokes
I made my bed and now I'll sleep in it
Good thing it's my bed
It's never made
I made my own gravy train out of powdered mix
I just added water by accident and had to check the recipe
Anyway keep it steady
Posted by David at 10:30 PM 0 comments
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
I voted for Cobra Snake
i called attention
to my medic alert bracelet
attention, attention
be alert
notice my goddamned jewelery
and make a note of it
notice it
post a caution sign on the highway
think about the immigrant
how he doesn't think in english
he only thinks he does
when the phone rings tell it to shut the fuck up
Posted by David at 1:40 PM 0 comments
Monday, November 06, 2006
walk-in closets for the rest of your life
walk-in closet for a walk-in life
i got stuck on a coat hanger
now i'm a hanger-on
i want to get into the shoebox
and check it out
see what's happening
i got elected mayor of a city i didn't know existed
so i'll send in rain clouds to make my memory foggy
if you ever find my megaphone just send it back to the clearly marked p.o. box address
Posted by David at 10:54 PM 0 comments
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Saturday, November 04, 2006
turns_out_youre_human.com
I hit a Braille speed bump on my way to work
I hit a piƱata full of meat with my fictional car
I hit my mind with 1,000 facts per second
I hit the ceiling with my glass tar fish baby
I hit a thousand things I'd never understand until I read the bumps in the mirror
I hit the margins of the paper with graphite poisoning
I hit the judge and jury with a restraining order
I hit my dumb little brain with a genius grant
I hit the ground running
I hit the sky in a second coming
I hit the world with a surprise birthday party and it was totally amazed even though we could totally see its junk and stuff
I hit the limits and forgot how to do math with fractions
I hit the outside of my coffin and learned to kick some damn tires
I hit the whole town and painted it red all before bedtime
I hit Daily Savings Time right in it's face because it's a fucking bitch and I had had it with it being all up on my business
I hit a leprechaun on my way to the end of the rainbow
I hit about a thousand better uses of my time when I was wasting it
I hit upon a nice dictionary
I hit on a nice little word
I hit on a nice spot to take a bath; it's a bathtub
I hit on the sweet spot on the dinner check; it's the rate of gratuity
I hit on this awesome new web page and I am so going to bookmark it
I hit the roof of my mouth with some too hot pizza and I am so sorry top of my mouth
I hit the stars with a lawsuit and I am going to be known as Dr. Millionaire from now on
I hit myself in the mouth and I know why (it's not related to the pizza)
I hit the end of this sentence with a period.
Posted by David at 11:12 PM 1 comments
Friday, November 03, 2006
Thursday, November 02, 2006
I'm self reliant tryin to eat band aids
She sneaks into my room
when I'm awake I'm asleep
The inside goes out
And I lost all my receipts
I lost my pathogens
I lost my ethos
My name isn't Andy
I wish it was John Stossel
Give me a break
Now is a good time for a break
Now is a good time for a break
Now is a good time for a break
Now is not a good time for me
If you go away please return with a greeting card
And my feelings won't be nearly as hard
Posted by David at 8:07 PM 0 comments