Michigan water tastes like cherry wine
Mississippi water tastes like turpentine --- Trad as best as I can reckon
Whatcha gonna do when your troubles they get like mine?
Take a mouthful of sugar drink a bottle of turpentine --- Trad too, probably, I heard canned heat do it
I asked for water, she bring me gasoline
That’s the terriblist woman I ever seen --- Howlin’ Wolf
Well, yeah, shit, you know.
There’s this punchline to a joke “ Senor, the bull does not always lose”. The jokes not very good, but it’s a hell of a punchline. St. Augustine had a punchline that went something like “Hate is like drinking poison and hoping the other guy dies.” He wasn’t the patron saint of jokes. As far as I know that job is still open. You’d have to be some kind of bleeding heart motherfucking martyr to want that gig though. Huh. I guess they all are. Still …
I know I stood on this very planet as it spun on it’s axis today but for the life of me I couldn’t tell you what happened. I mean I could make a good guess that some folks got born, some got dead, probably not near as many as will have “died of tobacco related causes” but that don’t make them any less dead. That’s the sort of punchline we all know is coming and yet seemed so surprised by. I’m just saying I didn’t witness anyone getting born or dying today, I have, before, just not today. It’s just like falling off a bike, you always recognize it for what it is. The poor bastards getting born have a lot of bikes left to fall off.
No, nothing especially morbid happened today, I just need to bark at the fence and howl at the moon every so often. One day I’m going to have to explain to someone, I mean someone who I really need to understand. For the most part the folks who get it get it and the folks that don’t don’t and that’s fine, I mean that’s probably how it’s supposed to be. There’s a bit of fatalism to that I’m not real fond of, and it’s never been a problem, but it might be soon. Huh, I’ll try to decrypt that I guess.
There’s two kinds of people in the world; the kind of people who think there are two kinds of people and the other kind. Um, there’s a bunch of kinds of the other kind. If were offering advice, no, better yet, if I was just telling tales out of school on how I might or might not go about shit --- whatever kind of person you are, there’s no percentage in convincing the other kind to come on over, even if you could win that argument you’d have cause to regret. Ok, so that doesn’t decrypt anything except to say that for the most part if I got to explain the barking and howling --- there’s no percentage in it. Ninety nine point nine percent of the fucking time.
Awww shit it’s hours later. Turns out there are two kinds of people; ones who aren’t fucking idiots and me. I’ve been making my own smoking poison for a week now. I control the flavor and … wait for it … the fucking nicotine fucking lev-fucking-el. It’s mundane but there you have it, no existential angst or bad mojo or --- well, maybe all of that, but also nic withdrawl.
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