January 2012
30 posts
“A gentleman is simply a patient wolf.”
– Lana Turner (via infatuati)
Agreed.
GAWS: I FOUND ICE CUBES 'GOOD DAY' →
murkavenue:
CLUE 1: “went to short dogs house, they was watching Yo MTV RAPS” Yo MTV RAPS first aired: Aug 6th 1988 CLUE 2: Ice Cubes single “today was a good day” released on: Feb 23 1993 CLUE 3: ”The Lakers beat the Super Sonics” Dates between Yo MTV Raps air date AUGUST 6…
Church.
I just wrote a seven paragraph diatribe on why I hate the terms “slut-shaming,” and “vilification.” Then I realized that I don’t really give a fuck, save for the fact that the terms are linguistically offensive. So is the word “tasty.”
And then I thought: A woman’s vagina is none of my business unless I’m inside of it.
Maybe I’ll...
Sunday
On Sunday, I arose early as I sometimes do, and quietly dressed. It was unusually warm, so I kicked open the screen door to the back porch and let a shallow breeze fill the room as I made coffee. Outside, the morning rain sounded like a million tiny matchsticks all being struck in quick succession. There were wet patches on the sidewalk and a thin film of water left a picnic bench with a noble...
It’s the little things that make you realize how screwed up you really are. You’re awake. Held hostage in an airport bathroom where the smell of someone else’s shit is both sickening and strangely intimate. It’s those bathrooms where the tiles are colored mustard yellow, or spearmint green, or chalk, or butterscotch, or any other number of colors named after food items. No...
1 tag
That sinking feeling when you realize that you’ve sent someone you respect a message using “your” instead of “you’re.”
And you call yourself a writer. You fucking hack.
burmesejorjiapits asked: I never did get a letter...
Anonymous asked: Where are you?
Anon Enabled
1 tag
December 2011
35 posts
For Holly, Who Sewed Patches To My Knees
You almost wrecked my car
But we stopped in time in a bowl of black asphalt
Laughing at the look on each other’s faces
And when we finally stopped
You kissed me and opened the door
And I drove us both home
Sometimes, I am overwhelmed by the heaviness of everything; her, the illness, my addictions, mahogony, all of it. In those moments when the chimes on the clock are racing to tell me the hour and my eyes haven’t shut because I feel light and insignificant there is nothing to do but pull the blankets over my head and listen to the house settle.
The way you say “cunt” intrigues me.
I would really like a cigarette.
On Women
It always seemed easy. Like quatrains. Definitive aspects to establishing candor among people you’d never met before was like some science experiment and adding the right ingrediants could turn a situation volatile or sterile in a matter of seconds.
I’ve always had good luck with women. I’ve never had good luck with women. You see, that sounds a bit odd, but both statements...
Decrepit & Elderly
Last night I suited up for one of the many holiday parties that I am attending this season. It should be said that the parties that I go to during the holidays are never like the parties you see on television sitcoms. Those parties, if they can even be called that, usually feature a gaggle of adults drinking champagne and talking about important plot points, or moving the cast towards a valuable...
PSYCHOANALYSIS
whorevidal:
Sigmund Freud had already been sworn off cocaine for ten years by the time his central work, ‘The Interpretation of Dreams’, was published in 1900. But the idea that dreams show people their own symbolically encrypted fantasy worlds and that they can be deciphered in therapeutic conversation owes a great deal to cocaine. This is not only because of cocaine’s lowering of psychic...
A Job Interview
Today, I put on my best shoes and a necktie that dimples like wax, and which, I tied with a fat knot that reminds me of an engorged mons pubis. I found a rolled up bag of tobacco in my overcoat. I took it out of my pocket and the smell of sugary sweet leather remained on my fingers. I wiped the toes of my shoes on the backs of my slacks.
In just a few hours I will be meeting with a man who...
“& we fell into it like a daydream, or a fever.”
– (via dreamnoises)
GY!BE = Automatic Reblog.
It snowed today in eastern Massachusetts. The first snow is usually a more trepidatious event, causing townsfolk, or “Townies” as they are called here, to lock themselves inside their homes and celebrate by getting horribly drunk. This snow was soft and waifish, almost scrawny, and presented itself in little puddles along the borders and bulk of our back yard. I’d hoped for a bit...
Stream of Con Science.
Tonight I will write you letters in the calm dawn dark. A battle pose, my fist perched under my chin, lifeless and cold from the lack of blood, it hangs like a fish on a rapier. The cold ink dwelling soft Sarte lines, quoting peach phrases and blood curdling screams. I draw long curvy letters like snakes fit to bite and hope that you hang your eyes on every slanted letter. I fill my glass with...
