|
Trying To Empty It Out, To No Avail before/after Yep. Need to empty my head. Then I think I'll start something else. Two things that I felt was cool. No, three, just because. Going to the bookstore and buying both, at the same time, Marquis DeSade 'The Misfortune of Virtue' and F*M's Leanne Tw*eden layout. Somethings just fit together, and make them cool. Cool fits. Driving along in my monte carlo (I love my car, so what, so what?), with the moon roof open, windows down, blaring Notorious B*G's 'hypnotize', and then at the exact instant I turned the corner, the White Stripes 'Fell In Love With A Girl' echoes out and to the surrounding buildings. Cool is also about timing. And I appreciate the little things. Well, its not a fucking Society party. Its a simple poetry of life. And the last instance of cool, was sitting in the computer lab at school, slogging my way through some code, casting furtive glances at every girl that walks past the window in front of me, getting caught by a cute little honey with blonde hair and a bit too tan skin, already something between a smile and a leer on my face. Watching her fight down a smile and look at her shoes, walk a few steps and look back again. Me, still looking, feeling much like a puppy dog, with knowing sly smile and already stated leer, my foot wagging much like a dog found something with which to play. That look back is worth a lot to me, despite its apparent lack of any worth. The simple wholesome games before they turn tawdry and old, and 'will you fucking leave already' are the best. Also on my mind: Before you put a bumper sticker on your car, I'll make you a deal: send me fivehundred dollars, and I'll piss on your leg. Sure, it sounds far fetched, but you are coming out ahead in the deal. Its a steal. Take it, my friend. So, before the "Fast Boys/Fast Toys" or "Princess" sticker gets slapped on, consider the offer. Depreciation, it is a bitch. I saw a sticker that said "Baby Love" today. It reminded me of the "Princess" label one sees from time to time on the roadway. I never realized so much royalty lived riddled with poverty and bad taste. Its entirely the opposite of what one would expect. Which reminds me of another sticker, or set of stickers I saw today, one of which read :Will Hunt Ducks For Food. Fine. A little hickish, but fine. The next sticker, on the same pickup truck, read : One of four babies die of choice. The choice part was exemplified. One of the babies on the sticker was faded out and blue. You poor confused fucker. Of course, this is a tad hypocritical of me, in a way, as I really don't see a whole lot wrong with being vegetarian and pro choice. So really, the inverse should be all right, also. But mixed messages on such prominent display, at some point...you have to read the shit you broadcast to the world. I'm not big on self censoring of any type, but ye gods, man, your shit has to have some sense or beauty to it at some point. Don't scum up my eyeballs with your nonesense. To wit: pro-lifer's argue that they are giving a voice to the voice-less. Pro-animal rights people argue they are giving a voice to the voice-less. So, what's up, pal? Tell you what, sparky, you give me 1500 dollars for the three stickers you want to slap on the rear window of your pickup truck, I'll piss on your leg three times, saving you both money and embarassment. What a bargain. And what's up with the Hummer craze? Does anyone really need a goddam hummer? ha. Well, I need a hummer, but that's beside the point! But really, we're a society of oil junkies with penis envy. So many of those cars will never see any sort of action for which they were built, much like their bretheren SUV's. It ends up being a replacement for guys who's cocks aren't big enough, or women who wish they had one. We're killing people so soccer mom's can drive expensive, gas guzzling psuedo-tanks. I saw this (no segue) kid getting gas some weeks ago, driving a pristine, tinted window pickup truck. White exterior, red interior. Spotless. He was wearing a frat boy uni consisting of baggie jeans, nike's, some sort of rugby sweater...something like that...a sweater consisting of stripes that matched up across the chest and spread to both arms, you know, just dying to be a nazi, but its just not in this season...and a well worn baseball hat, for which I will give him credit, and of course, the obligatory black fuzzy dice hanging from the mirror. Stud acheived some sort of redneck acheivement. How do some people not realize they've become a chairacature? Because you have to realize at some point he had to strive for this, it did not just happen. You don't wake up like that. Or maybe you do. Maybe these people sprout out of pods like Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Just because you can do something, doesn't mean you should. 'nyway, I passively looked his way, and at the neatly stacked mound of well worn and shaped baseball hats he had in the cab of his resplendent pickup truck, and noticed on his head was a local high school team, for which the school had voted to change the mascot from a Native American theme to the Beavers. For which I adore them. And yes, he was wearing a well worn 'Beaver Diving Team' hat. His saving grace, I guess. but they did just change the mascot, so how did it get so well worn so fast anyway? Trying too hard, trying too hard. And as soon as I've emptied my mind of this...it fills up with yet more crap.
|
