Entries 837
Page 6 of 34
From 12/22/2011
The below probably isn’t very good, I don’t know, I don’t read these things I just write them. I got a box of similac in the mail yesterday, notice Sunny’s name on it. She’s been getting all sort...
Birds, bees and spanx
It’s been some time since I’ve remembered a dream or even remember having one. This morning some dream or other shook my foundation, peeled my core, tapped my pipe. I don’t remember it and even i...
Brass
It’s been decades since I was in what I call a blizzard. This morning I wandered out in single digit temps and brilliant sunshine to pick up some supplies, the regular stuff, Duct tape, a saw, to...
A flash from 10/13
“She had to disappear before they disappeared her.” “Did she have to give me up?” “I don’t know that she did.” “Someone did. I’ve been rotting for five years upstate like a pink salmon belly up.”...
A warning
I’m not entirely sure that reading ones own diary from three years back is a very good idea. It’s like looking up your moms skirt at her funeral, sure, look to the rock whence thou wert hewn and ...
Freaklets, the papal entry
I got the invite to beta test the new/old OD. Most everything from the old diary is intact. It’s pretty fucking weird. I have a soft spot in my heart for prosebox. My cardiologist says I should g...
Ry cooder solo
So I feel safe on these empty pages on this empty stage. I wrote a song. I can write music, but I can’t sing and I don’t know shit about the instruments that’d play this song. Imagine Paul Simon,...
Channel
I was sitting in my lazy boy, stoned, in a nest of pillows, watching some show through the toes darkly on Netflix or amazon or my own eyelids. The show was over and I was seriously thinking about...
Because why?
I’ve been pretty fuzzy of late, you know, crunchy, opaque, bifurcated, shit like that there. Now that I’m smoking weed again, um, medicinally(?) I kind of have some old neural pathways reminding ...
11/12/2011
You’re a bastard just like pharaoh, you kill de children just like pharaoh, now you send a ticket for me, but it don’t have no rsvp, oh lord it’s a war party, me no wanna go, heard about the last...
In your Face, Book
Whose day was it to watch me? Slacker. There was this kid born like nine days after my son. The seahag and I were friends with the parents, so the two boys grew up together, for a while at any ra...
Doppleganger
A very long time ago, somewhere in the seventies, I went to this Blue Oyster Cult concert with an asshole buddy of mine. I try not speaking ill of the dead, so, asshole is mild. I was happily tri...
Passe
Still obsessed with cycling and marijuana. One of the unforeseen benefits is that I spend a lot less time on anti-social media. No offense, I love you guys (that’s all inclusive, a salient point ...
Where angels fear to tread
It’s been a wild couple of days? Weeks? Hours? How long has it been since I’ve been here? Am I talking heads song? Where is my big beautiful bitch of an ex-wife? I probably mentioned the bikes be...
The bicycle thieves
Huh. I guess I don’t feel obliged to prosebox, I can’t even tell you why. I had some real life events and some free time, didn’t occur to me write an entry here. I had two bikes stolen from my ga...
I’m an old school liberal. I didn’t get the memo that “we” no longer care about pacifism, that “we” would rather argue the empiricism of global warming than just stop polluting our home because i...
Reeking of Havoc
I received a sign from the world wide web gods; if I’m interpreting correctly OD must be coming back. I got into an argument with this guy on Facebook that was stupid enough to be OD-worthy. I kn...
Obsessive Joy
My two obsessions this year have been fitness and marijuana. Incongruous? Maybe. The fuck do I care, it could have been politics. I might have fucked up and had to move to 1600 Pennsylvania avenu...
Crickets
Sometimes I forget this journal even exists and I’ll be walking around checking my pockets, looking under furniture, not sure what I’m looking for, just sure I’m missing something. The artist fo...
Oops, a nice place to die part 2
Two entries in a day? 1) no, I don’t have anything better to do and 2) I wasn’t done, but, I also didn’t want that sitting on my desktop indefinitely. As the old OD crowd who read my shit when i...
Oregon; a nice place to die
I’M GOING TO WRITE ABOUT THIS HERE (PROBABLY) BECAUSE NO ONE READS THIS SHIT (DEFINITELY). Shit. I’m leaving the cap lock mistake up there because it speaks to my general wonkiness. It’s not that...
Storm is rising
True dreams west; that itch a man gets when the weight of time is unbearable. True dreams of ashen past and a western bent you just can’t straighten out. I was in this motel room in Sulphur Louis...
Not exactly same old, same old
I don’t know if my life is boring now or if I’ve forgotten how to pick the interesting pieces out of a scene, an event a happening. For the last few weeks I’ve struggled with fatigue, hmmmm, I’ve...
Love on Line
I’ve been kind of obsessed with commercials of late, obsessed in the most indifferent and lazy sense of the word, drawback of living in an attic I think. When I watch TV on my computer I can’t re...
Archives July 19, 2012
In approximately nine hours from now, that is what I am typing this moment, it will be another day. For business purposes it will be the same another day all over the world, even accounting for v...
Book Description
Thought I’d change the title. Some of my best friends are white girls. 95 percent of my friends are in cars going fast.
But perhaps For White Girls In Cars Going Fast was offensive. White girls can call each white girls, but I think we’re supposed to refer to them as pigment challenged Americans, which must confuse the hell out of the Brits, Aussies, and other such nationals on this site, e,g, “My pigmentation is fine and I’m a Not American American.”
