Thursday, May 31, 2007

Something here is about to explode

Believe in that conveyer
Belt around your torso
It leads up to your neck
Don't gag on the reflex

I pushed my luck right out the front door. It was running out on me.

My head bled in stereo
Will you stick around
Well, I don't know
We got our wires crossed
Tired of fighting for a cause that's lost
And found
And lost
And found
I'm going to find that missing spark
No more taking cheap shots in the dark
No more bathing in the moonlight
I need a damn towel
Calling all cars
Can you give me a ride
I said I swallowed my pride through my muffled throat
I-I-I-I-I- plead the fifth
And Gi-i-i-i---ive me...some money...

My sense of humor is so sick it's in the hospital
Please visit it and give it flowers and give it chocolates but don't fatten it up and don't make it allergic because it's pretty sick
I said my face
I said I lit my lungs on fire
Behind some smoky voices I got the hell out of there
I was tired of counting the woodgrain under my eyes
Pardon the expression

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Deserted Island Notes, Excerpts

A short note to the Deserted Island I recently left:

Hey Dude,

Sorry I've been AWOL for so long. Well, you know how these things are. It really was just time. I grew a long beard and contracted dysentery while in your company. Plus, I brought along my favorite book, CD, and movie, which, I knew we had some good times enjoying together. I don't need to tell you how many times I wish I had brought my glasses, boombox, and DVD player, though. Good times.

Plus, remember when I tore my clothing to pieces in a fit of madness brought on by a diet of nothing but raw turtles? Turns out there's a reason the tortoise beats the hare. Yeah, my doctor, Dr. Wilk, says that turtle sacrificed many of his reptilian comrades in an orgiastic feast for the bunny rabbit to eat. So, I won't be running any races lately. Speaking of hares, I hope you know how to read a letter written completely in human hair.

Hmmh. What else. Oh yeah. Remember when I fell into a pit of despair so deep that I set out to sea in a homemade coffin? Remember the coconut coffin? Well, after seven years of construction, it turns out that a sea-faring vessel made out of fruit isn't very buoyant. Well, by that point I was out of swimming reach of the island, which is pretty moot since I don't know how to swim.

I can understand your feelings are hurt, being left behind, but why did you not send for help? Weren't you wondering what happened to me? And to think of all the times I held your hair while you vomited, drunk on a tropical highball. I know they didn't taste very great, and sure it was mixed in a blender that only had one speed, and sure, those blades were really turtle teeth, but at least I tried. What'd you do? I mean, you're a deserted island...And I love you for that, I always will...

Really, I will. I mean, I'm writing this letter, aren't I? All I'm saying is, "X" marks the spot. And "X" is where I buried my love. I hope you find that shovel you kept whispering about. Oh yeah, my love is right under that corpse of the captain who ate the map. I mean who puts a map on oyster crackers? I love oyster crackers...


Joel Derringer

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

simple question for a simple answer

I got a suicide packed in my tooth
And a sleeping bag hanging from inside my eyes
That inchworm crawling up my white T-shirt doesn't care
Much for me
I'd flick him off but nature kicked my ass twice yesterday
It's got my number
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 Yes 9
Bring me mine
And you'll get yours
But I'll share
My shadow puppets from heaven


I can wait you out like a hunger strike
But then what
My stomach would squeeze up against my spine like a tail between my legs
I'd be hungry and it'd get me no where
Maybe I'll set myself on fire instead
But I never go to any dinner parties anyway
So I'll just go hungry instead

Untitled #601

Thing I should probably apologize for but won't:

1. Posting "Have you seen my god?" flyers all over town
2. The previous item, but hanging said flyers without accurate contact information (I left my phone number and e-mail address off, due to a "printer's error."
3. Swatting at the neon buzzing flies that are always overhead
4. Listing the order of meals in a day as such:

a. Breakfast
b. Lunch
c. Dinner
d. Dessert
e. Midnight Snack
f. 5AM Feeding
g. 6:30 AM Feeding Frenzy
h. 6:50 AM Slop Bucket Bonanza
i. 6:55 AM Lobster Bib Change of the Guard

5. Pointing out to people when they're trying too hard
6. Laughing at your haikus (the ones you didn't intend to be funny)
7. Acting all like I want to use the Metric system (I don't.)
8. Coining the phrase "smokestack sausages"
9. Making pointless lists

Sunday, May 27, 2007

mgmg g g gd

again, mgmg g g gd

Saturday, May 26, 2007

Milestones are meaningless but nice to track. [Post #600]

I swore I cut myself shaving on Ockham's Razor but it didn't seem simple enough.

Murphy's Law totally fucked up my morning when I slept in the freeway.

Oh, right.

So, this is the 600th drawing. Probably, I hit this milestone a few days ago. But I know it's the 600th post. Anyone who cares to can count them up, but I wouldn't recommend it. Congratulations might be in order as well, but I wouldn't recommend those either.

I know some of you are out there, in the shadows, reading, looking, wondering. But some of you have expressed an interest in paying me for merchandise relating to this, whatever this is. I will make an effort to satisfy that demand in the very near future. What is it you people want? Write and let me know. Otherwise you'll just have to make do with whatever awesome thing I cook up to romance your wallets.

Many of you, and I don't really know who you are or how many, and that's fine, continue to read. And I am appreciative. I'll keep this brief. No one likes a windbag, and neither do I.

There's also some different projects coming up in the relative near future, and I'll post about those with the usual barrage of bullshit you see on here.

And now, without further ado, back to the bullshit.


P.S. I heard Bat Boy uses a technique he calls inversion therapy -- in which he hangs upside-down in his cave -- to help maintain his weight.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

Thirty five million, six hundred and thousand, fifteen and three, and the # H (They dont want to wait, they want it now, and they dont wait for now)


I'm not in right now. But if you leave a message, when I get my head out of the clouds, I'll pick up the phone and call you back. Do you still have a phone?

Please leave your name, number, and whether you have a phone (especially that last information) after the sound of 60 gongs.

Wait, did I get those gongs today?




Well why not?

I didn't understand why you needed 60 gongs when really all you need is one. You can just hit it sixt--

Because in the message I said, "After the 60 gongs."

Yeah, but why do you need 60 gongs to hit, why can't you just hit a single gong 60 times?

No, don't be ridiculous. You know what I meant.

No, I didn't.

Yes you did.

No, I really didn't.

Don't take that tone.

I'm not taking a tone, really. I'm just trying to explain to you--

It's sixty gongs you hit all at once, only one time.

That makes no sense.

Wait, leave a message.



Man oh man Manwich is a bitchin' meal

I once had a job folding paper. It was the hardest job I've had yet. Every morning at 3pm, I'd rise from bed and go to my office and shove 37 calico cats off and really get down to brass tacks.

At 3:07pm I'd need a break to stretch my legs and imagination so I'd go back to the bathroom, which was recently flooded, and pack the toilets (and later, with some luck, the oceans) with gauze. If it weren't for the lack of teeth in the toilet, I'd feel like a dentist. But then I'd feel like a total goof for dropping out of dental school. I didn't even enroll, but it didn't take me long to drop out.

The entrance exam was too hard to take. They were offering at the local junior high and I was unfamiliar with the layout and by the time I finally woke up at 3:10pm I remember I never even wanted to go to dental school.

I swept the blood under the rug and went back to my desk. Okay, 3:11pm, time for work. Really, really work. Work, that's a funny word. Where were those cats? No time to worry. Alright, time to get this shipment of Fuddelden-319b forms ready to be shipped to the origami plant down in Idaho. Potatoes? Do they have potatoes there? In Idaho? I will tweak every third crane's head slightly askew, as if looking out at a never ending field of Russet potatoes, thinking to itself, "Yeah, I could settle down here. Settle." Settle, as if to say, "Yeah, this is good enough for the rest of my life."

Personally, I think it'd be dangerous for a paper crane to live in a potato field. What if it rains? What if the crops become infested? What if potatoes, despite having eyes, don't feel like making eye contact with a paper crane. They're not good listeners, and it has nothing to do with them not having ears. They just choose not to.

Once I had a problem with neighbors. They trapped a raccoon in their garbage can and climbed on top of their car, poised to attack with a shot gun. As if that was an even fight.

Man, it's hot in here.

This sweat is ruining this entire batch of rose creme tinged paper cranes. What the hell do they need with 1,000 paper cranes? Well, they're out of luck here. That's all I know. Someone get 37 calico cats on my desk, prontoburgers. It's nearly 3:18pm, and I don't see any cats in here. Call my kid up, take him out of school, dress him up like a cat, and I'll bamboozle him with the dust buster.

I've never seen dust be busted, though I've seen it sucked into a handheld vacuum.

One thing I've never seen is a paper crane towing a steel truck.

I forget what else I've seen but I need a new job.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

call me a cynic like they call me a cab, because i can taste the innocence

We say we'll stay in touch when all I do is lose it. We'll roll out the sunshine in the morning after I find a wheelbarrow. Can I borrow a cup of whatever you're drinking? I won't lose that.

I said you could slash my tires and that wouldn't keep me from moving. I don't own a car anymore and I don't have a care in the world. They're in the ether with a lot of people I used to know and I couldn't keep them from moving onto there.

Sleep on it
Sleep on it
Sleep on it

Give it a second look, like you know you wanted to.
Exchanging second chances
I won't lose that
You think you cracked the code but you haven't got a clue who's really onto you
I said I'm onto you
Maybe you didn't get it yet
But by the time you do it'll probably be too late
So set your watch
The one that weighed me down last year
Rented moonbeams me down
Bottles of juice, well, okay, they're more like boxes
Moving boxes
They say you can't go back
Yeah, they say a lot of things
Everyone has the same thought at different times
Like a timeshare, we'll visit
And examine the properties
Who taught your baby how to drive
You can pop my tires like the zits on my back
It's no skin off my teeth
I have neither, I don't have all three
So keep a list

And sleep on it
And call me a cynic like they call me a cab

Pop goes the easel

Monday, May 21, 2007

What do you call two witches who live together? Broomates! (hahahaha)

My friends are on autopilot
Yeah they're all automatic
And they're going no where
So I hitched a ride along

Why not
I'm not going anywhere
I'm right around the bend
"You can follow me around for a while," I said.

"Ask about me when you leave," she said.
I wasn't sure what that meant but luckily sleep for the night was within 5 hours, a stones throw away to the unconscious mind. But the conscious mind knows that's a long ways to go if you're tired, hungry, and unshaven. I was all three, and my mind was watered down with I don't know what. Some indescribable quality that already has wasted some words and your time. Happy?

the marching of his feet on the cobble stone road reiterated and imitated the blank purpose of a horse valiantly being driven toward its stead.

“what’s that?” he thought aloud.

nothing but his own interpretations and hollow thought process consuming his consciousness, came the answer, like so much spilt milk cried over and devoured by now sullied paper towels. sleepless, he ventured through another viaduct.

the outdoor light bulbs flickered in and out of place, vignetting another pastel picture perfect soliloquy of humdrummery.

“cool it, thor” it seemed to have it coming. “the only difference between me and you is that I seem to accept who I am. and I’ll drop off the details on the way to where ever it is that I’m going”

as the thick sepia and cacophony of earth tones formed a nice mélange of background that might as well be drowned out under garish fluorescents, it was obvious that there very well may not have been a passageway at all had the painters known when to stop. but luckily, they did.

I was gonna say...But I already told you.

The difference between day and night is the sunrise
But the fictional friends and their actual acts
Cloud the difference
The difference between you and me is
I'll admit when I don't know
Don't you know that
So don't pull the wool over on the black sheep
Contact lenses shielded covertly
It's a red alert
I'm coming out of the hospital
Don't send another one of my family there this year
Too many to count
Actually, no
I take that back
Take as many as you want
I'll go willingly
What's the difference
I'll cash out now
Because I'll stake my claim
On a bed of nails
At least the food will be better

Just give me something I can understand
Or something I can play along with
Because lately it's all this faith in the veil of night
If you wanna self-sabotage then the least you could do is just trip the wires
Don't spin a web
I repeat my stories too much lately not because I don't remember what I said
Just who I said it to
What's the difference
Because I'll stake my claim
With these aches and pains
On a bed of nails
At least the food will be better

Sunday, May 20, 2007

Here comes a brick of innuendo right through your front window

I climbed up the stairs and broke that empty heart
With the invisible men in my invisible army
I can't see them anymore but I know they're around somewhere
One of them's missing
Always in the last place I look
Retrace my steps
Where was the last place I saw you
Now your friends are homeless
I've got no where to send this letter
Oh well
In between
Making everything better
Oh well

that angel had a glass jaw

I guess if you can hear the whistle blow
You don't need to move your clock ahead
But why don't you do me a favor and just move ahead
Cut my hair and change my name and move to a new city and think everything's different
But it's not
So stop chasing that dream when it ran you over in your wildest dreams
Even your best day was two hours short
You think you know what's up
But you're in a world of your own
That fear you sold will just strike you in the dark
Ring you up
Call you out
And knock knock knock
Won't you come to the door
Play your hand
Make your move
Someday soon
Now now now
No, no, no
You know who you're dealing with
For the better part of the past century
In this life or the next
Someone came and found you out
Now they're ringing the bell in the city square
There's never anyone there
Where it's all who you know
And the loudest man shouts
About nothing in particular
And everyone's so pleased to march along and listen
What're you beating a drum for?
Rally the troops when they're off you-know-where
And they don't dare
There's some sort of other life you've been living
So excuse me
If I know what I'm talking about and say it out loud
If you think you know, then go

I guess
If you can hear the whistle blow
Then you're too far away to make a difference
What's the indifference for?
Nothing's changed on my side of the line
My side of the fence
The grass is always greener
But now they're just seeing red
So don't give me no bullshit in a china shop
I swear I called you up
But you just wouldn't listen
So suck on the drawl
And come get your lumps
Because the heart on my sleeves got an arrow straight through it
Right? Right.

They want in your head to open a bed and breakfast there

Your best day hasn't come yet
So why are you so damned upset
It's all an uphill ride on the way down
But "at least you know where you stand," he told me this morning
Just another damned negotiation
Keep your hands inside the ride at all times
Cut my hair and change my name and move to a new city and think everything's different
Now accepting all donations
(Because) As a hostage
I've got to write
Just to stay so uninspired

Friday, May 18, 2007

Other Cereals From The Makers of Kashi's "Good Friends"

Strictly Platonic O's
Let's Get A Divorce, Honey Nut Cheerios
We're No Longer Speaking, Give Me Back My Blender Nut Clusters
Prenuptial Wheat Crisps
I'm Having Your Bastard Child, Reginald Grainfest

Thursday, May 17, 2007

You and I could make everything better

You and I could make everything better
But first we gotta tear everything down
Tear it apart
And start over
Far away from the start
Cut out all the bad parts
The past
It's better left in the dust
Where it's been collecting

You'll be my working title
I'll be your diamond in the rough
We can leave the cityscape behind
Look at the treasure and
Look at the trash shine
You can take what's mine
I took it for you
This was my home once but
First we gotta tear everything down

Tear it apart
And start over
I'll meet you in the beginning
I know you were in there
I know exactly where you were
But now...
For the millionth time...
I don't mind repeating myself
I don't mind

You and I could make everything better
But first we gotta tear everything down

figuring something went wrong, plugged in holes in the meaningless equation and came up empty on a shore walking along the water

You ripped off my money
Soul's in limbo
My arms akimbo
Now we're so polite it could kill a flower in bloom
Nobody speak too soon
You'll ruin it all
I got a feeling I could speak 'til I get blue in the cheeks
And still it'd be plenty of weeks
And Time again
It's always time
Not enough time
The sands in an hour glass all became pearls
In the oyster's mouth, it was its own world
Now I'm taking a wish
And blowing its mind out
Out at sea
Out in its Sunday best
I got to believe what I see on the TV screen
Because I don't got no choice
I believe everything you say to me
(I already said it)
Even the lies
Because it's too beautiful to think
With my cracked mind
And my twisted logic
Is it toxic or nontoxic
A man's gotta eat
Keep away from the fire
And blowing its mind out
Out of what it always needed
Out at sea
So polite it could kill a flower in bloom
Still it would not unfold
For anyone but me
For everyone but me
I'm always losing things
Out in the worst way
Out because you lost your keys
So now it's 5, 6, 7, 8 hours until the next train will come
Do you hear the traffic dying?
Lull it to sleep
The moon sighed me to sleep too
And I was wide awake in a daydream
Oh yeah
But not today
Someday soon
This will all come back to you
ruin it all
And Time again
So set your alarm and kill another day
In limbo

Don't piss in my stream of consciousness
Don't let them judge you
You never gave a fuck what they thought
I thought
So pull the dagger out
Take a pat on the back again
What's the difference
Add it up
Nothing's something, right?

It's too beautiful to think today
Or I think there's something wrong with my thinking
Oh yeah
But not today
Someday soon
You'll be my gift
And I'll never take it back
It's too beautiful to think today
Or I think there's something wrong with my thinking
Oh yeah
But not today
Someday soon

It's disinfected by trash

At the Copa
Copa Cabana
You can do things that you don't wanna
And you're gonna
Meet Kevin Costner
And remake all his movies
At the Copa
Copa Cabana
You can do things that you don't wanna
And you're gonna
Meet Tina Turner
And arm wrestle a blanket

Excerpts from The Godfather Anime: Don Vito's Revenge

Scene 15

[SON VITO is in his apartment’s bathroom, making spaghetti in the toilet while THUGS wait in his kitchen, converted to look like an Italian bistro]


Madonn', this oughta hold ‘em. Lousy mortadellas... lucky for me the Don put this gun in my toilet tank and also my water filtration has gone to kaputs. I can strain the water in my commode and come out, guns a-blazin’. Now, time to make-a my plate of super meatballs, the way the Don likes, straight ouf the turlet! Ha-ha-ha.

[SON VITO laughs and serves dinner. Later, the THUGS are killed, apparently from food poisoning]

Scene 37

[DON VITO is not pleased with underling Herman Napole’s lack of respect. Suspected of flipping for the feds, DON VITO confronts him in his terrarium.]


I ask of you this one favor. I invite you to my house, you play with my kitty cat Fluffers, and I ask of you to loan me your Frank Zappa box set. Instead, you come here and show a lack of respect to me in my terrarium. Come and fix me a plate super meatballs with a very nice a-gravy, you rat.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

now all i need is cruelty as a cue

Raise a glass with the expectations
Incite a riot because it's good for a laugh
And between parked cars
Be idle for a while
And go

For miles and miles
The yellow line caused a fever
For buying time

Monday, May 14, 2007

cut up the credit cards and shanghai the kids, bringing what's brought.

I'll go my way
And you go yours
And keep on treatment like it was a daily chore
I've got my daily vitamins
I've got my joints limber
I've got my crucial opportunities
and I've got my way-way-wasted youth
So tell your momma and your sister
I figured the truth would come out by now
But now
It's much too late
We keep it up to keep the distance
And sit next to it
Keep it company
I suppose if I knew
If I ever made a mistake
If I ever had a problem
But I haven't and I don't
I'd talk to you but it's like ringing up a ghost
In a one horse town
Everyone knows your tricks
And my number's up
If I lost all my limbs
Would you help put me back together?
If I wrote to you
Would you read the letter?
Picking up the peace
Now there's no reason not to
I always thought the truth was true
It's just
I'll go my way
And you'll go yours
Someone help me get off the kitchen floor
Saving face in the cabinets
Whatever it was
It just hasn't happened yet
In a dream in some faraway land
Turning circles
Turning squares
There's more to it than geography
The memories we have
They're lost and collected in a jar found on a distant shore
They just don't matter anymore
You can try and take a picture
But it won't last
They lie when they say it'll last longer, of course
So I'll go my way
And you go yours
That's what I like to hear
Collision course much too coarse to come near
My front door
My front teeth
And dumpster dive
Turning tricks in a back alley
Deep and dank, making a salary you can bank
Too much talk of money
And too complacent to change places
But I'd trade places in a second
For a gold medal, a pair of pearls
Getting hitched to that great big 'ol diamond in the sky
Once in a while I thought about it
Called me what I was
Accused of saving face
Heard it
Straight from the source
So I'll go my way
And you go yours

Thursday, May 10, 2007

I must go now, I sense Suzanne Summers needs me urgently.

And my Grandma Swirl would constantly shout, "Shut up, Santa Claus!"

Seriously, though, I'm going away again for a while. I liked prison so much, I'm going to jail. It's kinda different though, I hear. See ya on the other side!

Here's a list of shit you can do:

1. Read Post Secret on Sunday, but call your mama too.
2. Call me up, but I'm in jail and already used up my call.
3. Go outside for once. Jeez.
4. Check out the art of Wesley Willis
5. Get 50 free music downloads on eMusic
6. Get off my fuckin' back for once. Quit ridin' a jailbirds coattails.
7. Read up on Romanian tourism
8. Read up on birdwatching in Iraq
9. Read some other goddamned cartoons
10. Turn text into noise
11. Play the lottery, but play to lose.

That's literally dozens of activities. So don't come cryin' to me.

lazy memories

my soulmate ate for life
and i went home free
still i couldn't figure out what anything ever meant
to me
we interpret the road signs even when they're blurred
it's a hell of a ride
of that i'm sure
still i don't know where i'm going
check the dashboard compass
see how we're feeling now
how are we feeling now
am i coming in clear
not sure where we're going
but i'm clear on where we've been
and it sounds quite right
but not the way i said
nothing should be burned forever
those bridges crossed
not over a river
my eyes
so pick something new
it doesn't really matter
stick your toe in the water
it's frozen shut
and still i went home free
laughing all the way
i don't know what was so funny
in the first place
for the last time
nothing on me


dirt and skin
who marked the map
with the tick tock roads
who made it so hard
to flip flop fold

still i don't know where i'm going
in the first place

so we listen to the lies and reject all truth
it's funny
at least do the respectable thing and do the easy thing
and we all take turns at once
luckily, it's easy

figure it out later

tell me something, i don't know
straight lines bore you so
pick out a new course of action
from the catalog
pay the fee
and you're suddenly free
post it in the mail box letter
say something you'd better regret
it's just something you need to let
happen on it's own

so much now

and i went home free

academia nuts

My house is an organ
My brain is a stem cell
My body parts are a door bell
My nerves are a portable toilet
My toe nails are a rigged election system
My elbows are not democracy
My tonsils are long gone
They never even left a note
My heartbreak is suffering
My eye teeth are being melodramatic
Someone left the oven on in Santa Eulalia del Rio
I think I hear my keys jingling
Someone keeps undressing me with their telekinesis
With their eyes
Their eyes aren't a tree ring
Count the years gone by
My life is a gangster
A total eclipse of the milkman
Driving down the street is a waste of time
I'm walking down the road
Down to Heaven
If heat rises I'll see you in Hell
It'll be cooler and the weather will be colder
My trapper keeper is non-existent
You can't kill the dead
They don't care and are too stinky to shower
The heat stink rises right off it
Untie my eyes and strip my ears behind my back
I'm chasing that ball over a deserted road
I do as I'm told
Did someone dress the baby
Or was he born that sharp
Slush slush slush slush
Broke broke broke
You're too hip
For me
My identity is a constellation
My sense of taste is an illusion
My mirage is a desert
My sense of direction is lost
My feet point inwards
My back is always broken
My toes are always pregnant
Someone left the heart on in Guadalampur
Can you get it back for me
Or did I just make it up
My sense of geography is American
My sticktoitiveness is American't
My best face forward is ridiculous
My skeleton key is a shape shifter
And my baby face is a face lifter
Someone filled the baby's mouth with hair
I shaved his mouth but
It was too late
It was
Too too late
He's more handsome than I ever thought I could be
My sense of irony was lost in the mail
My anger got ground up in the disposal
My possibilities are dwindling
My compass is a son of a bitch
And my kindred spirit is lying
That scorpion came 'round the bend and said
"I can stand up when my number is called,"
Well, your number's up and so's my mind
It's made up
As in fictional, not determined
So I rode the rail through the spike in that creature's heart
It writhed all night long,
Listening to AC/DC
Meaning both ways, twixt the advantage
Ultimately the prize sat at the bottom of the box
Untouched, unclaimed, undusted
Prince in a monarchy
Because my monarchy is lost
My oligarchy is meaningless
I know tons of words but don't know what to say
Because my sense of timing is impeccable
But always always always

And the remains of the day were buried at sea
And I pretended to care but I couldn't tell anymore
So I put on my best tux and my best face forward
And went out the back door
And walked on and on the dusty country road
So rocks could get wedged in the new soles
And when I got there
And when I finally said my piece
So we could all just get on with it
I was just...


64 floors up, eating garbage in my new role as dogsbody

"It'll all be worth it someday," said the poor man who was rich in spirit but had an empty mind. He ditched his belongings by the side of the road and hoped they'd fit in there because, well, they had no place with him anymore.

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Maybe 1 day when our ship has sailed and we all go our own separate ways, we'll all make our way back here from both ends of the ocean, but I doubt it

Whatever happened to the way we used to be
Did it keep on going without us
Did we ever catch that bus
Did we ever hollow out that hill and make our top secret hideout
Did I just give myself away
Stop before I start talking too slow
Oh shit
I just gave myself away
In the heat of the moment I was left out in the cold
I was getting left behind when you were doing as you're told
Be a good boy
Drive a nice car
I burnt my tongue on that shooting star
The sky tucked me into bed at night
And I threw away the key
And these bodies are surrounding me
They don't come home at night, they come out at night
It's okay
It's alright
If you were meant to understand then you wouldn't be reading this
This time out
Down the street, I grit my teeth.
And can't remember why.
Up the road, I wanna change your mind.
But it's already pretty made up
and can't remember why.

100 Apologies (One hundred things to be sorry for)

  1. Sorry to that cop for shooting him, then driving him in my car to my home to cut his face off, presumably so he cannot be identified later
  2. Sorry for not using the metric system
  3. Sorry for not calling you back
  4. Sorry for all the apologies
  5. Sorry for my ugly face
  6. Sorrier for your uglier face
  7. Sorry for not raking the leaves and instead staying inside all day, eating corn chips. Okay, not corn chips but the disgusting chip dust that accumulates near the bottom of the bag. Okay, not near the bottom of the bag, but in the actual bottom of the bag.
  8. Sorry for being late
  9. Sorry for being late to my own arraignment, your Honor
  10. Sorry for stringing together long lists and pointless sentences that go no where
  11. Sorry for my offensive birthmark
  12. Sorry for my overly polite birthmark
  13. Sorry for growing up in a non-Sega Genesis household
  14. Sorry for single-handedly depreciating the value of whatever the currency is in Denmark
  15. Sorry for not knowing offhand the currency of Denmark
  16. Sorry for shaving my mother's only successful moustache
  17. Sorry that her moustache was far better than any one I could ever grow
  18. Sorry for copping that 'tude
  19. Sorry for my waxy skeleton not shining enough to light your way home
  20. Sorry for gumming up the works, in general
  21. Sorry for airing my laundry publicly
  22. Sorry for not getting that country's democracy going
  23. Sorry for not being able to __________
  24. Sorry for my allergies
  25. Sorry for my $2 haircut
  26. Sorry for being like a moth to the flame, and all that that might entail
  27. Sorry for slicking up the oceans
  28. Sorry for ruining those moments that one time
  29. Sorry for not keeping the roads safe
  30. Sorry for nickel and diming my own time, every time
  31. Sorry for not looking my best, even when I do
  32. Sorry for the mess
  33. Sorry for the stream of consciousness ruining your living room
  34. Sorry for urinating in your sink while you were sleeping
  35. Sorry for airing my grievances
  36. Sorry for that list of dumb things I gotta do being so dumb
  37. Sorry for wrinkling the skyline
  38. Sorry for really moving
  39. Sorry for talking when I really meant to speak
  40. Sorry for running my mouth
  41. Sorry for shutting everyone up
  42. Sorry for the baby screams
  43. Sorry for filling the baby's mouth with hair
  44. Sorry for being so bored
  45. Sorry for finishing what I start