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| | selfish shades of living | | | | Saturday, July 12, 2008 (2:42 PM) | | excuse me sir id like to ha
im gonna sit here right next to
you objectify what you think is missing
wishing there was another way
but if there was you couldnt do it
wasting your time you blew it
selfish living theres no convicing me
writing thoughts whats on your mind
smoked too much and now im blind
gotta girl that whispers desires in my ear
tongue down theres no mystery
clenching tight now i can see
don't know what you are
i'd like to see
blue jays and ospreys
p-bass full of grace
you can move if you want to
don't let them tell you what to do
you see since i was young ive been
trying to figure this shit out
but im smoked out and wondering
do you have any cheese?
i've been barking up that tree
but maybe today is my dog day
good afternoon misses my name is hiiighhh
ya doing
dancing real funny looking like im gumby
aint got no money
man this shit is funny | | | 292 Views | 0  Thumbs Up | 0 Comments |  |
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| | non-circulation liberian currency | | | | Saturday, July 12, 2008 (1:05 AM) | | say im going to six-flags
its in the bag
her cousins in the trans-am
looking out the window
discover the biology of astrology
swimming naked
hide the clothes
her aunt is home
one flight left
two cats on the stairs
torching the red bong
drink a forty on gunhill
streets glow yellow
something moves in the shadows
walking low
in the basement, spinning on malt liquor
forcing my downward spiral onto your irish lullabye
i threw up behind the water heater
sweating on the bed
sirens and buses outside
dreaming outside my body
lets go buy some beer
run in the rain
the train doesnt go all the way
thumbing a ride on her birthday
climbing through the garbage shoot
friends get it all
throwing it in your face
love misplaced
__________________________________________________________________________________________
jayded in suburbia
sage burning with marijuana overtones
obscure music
everything punk
trying to fit in
are my pants big enough?
is my cock big enough?
walking on the path
hold my hand and understand
she kissed me behind the train station
too young to go to jail
the police ruined my high
she had peach snapps in her purse
this makes me feel alright
sidewalks cracked with tiny weeds
and trees
some mexican gardners whistle at us
fishnets and purfume
nervous to make the first move
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| | Writting it all away | | | | Thursday, February 21, 2008 (11:30 PM) | | Writing it all away
Years ago, for reasons hard to understand, i dusted off an old brother typwriter i found in my parents garage. After ten minutes of tedious experimenation i finally figured out how to load the paper!
I felt like writting, i felt like alot of things and i guess that was the problem. I needed to relieve myself. A normal young man might need all but a few minutes (an hour) alone in the bathroom to take care of a problem like that, but i had more of a spiritual problem. I wanted to explode my brain all over the paper or let my subconscious reveal itself in the kind of rage that lands you on the front page of the journal. Either that or a few years of therapy and enough prozac to make joe torre smile. The kind of insanity everyone feels when they can't get around something. Like trying to think about the universe when your stoned, pretty soon your lightyears away and its hard to find your way back.
Typwriters have a unique way of connecting you with your story. It's like having sex without a condom; sure it feels fantastic but the next day your pissing in five different directions and you risk getting vd; or in this case finding a spelling mistake after five pages of writing and you cant align with the typebar dispite the key that says "erase" it just doesn't work. That key is a lie! It's a one shot deal, like life. What you type is what you get, and it makes you think harder about what your writing. Writing with spellcheck is like riding a bicycle with training wheels. I just called ninety percent of the world a bunch of pussies. A figure i made up.
Spelling my life away, selling my soul to the keys.
But i threw the paper in the basket like a junkie throws his needle at the beach. Now all i have are memories of paper cuts, 26 keys, and me.
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| | These Blogs are from.... | | | | Thursday, February 21, 2008 (11:27 PM) | | All the proceeding blogs from this point and older were taken from my myspace page. Most of these blogs have only been seen by like five people (my dear ol' friends), so I thought id give them some exposure here. They were all fun to write, and either written as a joke, or to express something, or to just work shit out myself.
they are in backwards chronological order. So it goes from the oldest to the newest.. well i guess the oldest one here would be the actual newest one i had posted on my myspace.
whatever
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| | A scientist or a race car driver? | | | | Thursday, February 21, 2008 (11:24 PM) | | what do you want to be when you grow up? i just asked myself this big Q in an email i was sending..
technically i could be considered an amatuer scientist.. like a non-professional scientist and shit. Spittin math out my mouth like a casio on patrol with easy E equals the Master of Ceremonies getting paid double.
thats e=mc²
Ah thank you,
Paul
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| | 99cents to life | | | | Thursday, February 21, 2008 (11:23 PM) | | | Over the years things have changed right.. the stock market goes up and down, bubbles burst. Gas prices are skyrocketing, inflation is on the rise, war is at hand etc. etc. But a 21oz. can of Arizona Iced Tea is still 99 cents. How do they do it? Even the 25 cent pack of wrigleys gum is not 35cents.. Arizona Iced Tea.. 99 cents | | | | 314 Views | 0 Thumbs Up | 1 Comment | |
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| | The "Hand Sandwich" | | | | Thursday, February 21, 2008 (11:22 PM) | | The ol' hand sandwich. basically.. when your working by yourself because your the majority of your staff apparently have an immune deficiency problem because they are constantly calling out "sick" and you dont have time to sit down and eat you can make a hand sandwich. Put your vinyl glove on, peruse the make table.. grab whatever you can fit in one hand and stuff it in your mouth. Carefully avoiding choking by drinking a tasty beverage.
Hey.. it beats the gatorade kids meal cookie dinner i had once..
please help me
paul
| | | | 299 Views | 0 Thumbs Up | 0 Comments | |
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| | The "Hand Sandwich" | | | | Thursday, February 21, 2008 (11:22 PM) | | The ol' hand sandwich. basically.. when your working by yourself because your the majority of your staff apparently have an immune deficiency problem because they are constantly calling out "sick" and you dont have time to sit down and eat you can make a hand sandwich. Put your vinyl glove on, peruse the make table.. grab whatever you can fit in one hand and stuff it in your mouth. Carefully avoiding choking by drinking a tasty beverage.
Hey.. it beats the gatorade kids meal cookie dinner i had once..
please help me
paul
| | | | 281 Views | 0 Thumbs Up | 0 Comments | |
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| | Coffee flavored cofee | | | | Thursday, February 21, 2008 (11:21 PM) | | Coffee flavored coffee
is so good to me. Coffee flavored coffee, makes me have to pee. Coffee flavored coffee, is all i want to be. Coffee flavored coffee, now my eyes can see!
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| | holy shit!! | | | | Thursday, February 21, 2008 (11:20 PM) | | i just took the worst drive ever! i left my place at midnight, and now Im sitting in my old old room in my parents place and its 6 in da morning! Damn.. torentchal (sp?) rain.. biblical porportions all over my face! The whole way down..
I saw two UPS 18wheelers box a smaller FedEX trucks on the way down.. it was awesome. I ran over at least 10 frogs.. why are they on the highway?
I think some lightening just struck a tree behind me.. im going to get under the desk now!
My Mom left the stuffed animal from when I was like 5 on the pillow there.. ok i slept with it until i was 10 or something.. what!? its a small panda bear. i named it Buffy a bazzilion years ago. Actually its Buffy II because i ate the first one or something I dunno.. dont tell him that though he wont want to sleep with me anymore.
clearly i should be sleeping.
its so weird being in this room again. so many memories.. it doesnt even look at all like it used to though. man i had the old school bjork poster on the wall.. before you even knew that shit was hot! i had the sick AIWA stereo with two broken tape decks.. I had 13inch TV/VCR combo that never worked.. i had a glass peice that would bake this room out like martha stewart never could. i had a dog on the floor, and a girl that was my friend. i had a brother all along, a father mowing the lawn and a sister calling on the phawn.. but now i live in the woods like a hermit all alawn! but thats not true ive still got you, and one day we'll live together i assume. we can stand in the windows like we're in a zoo, you say sneeze and i'll say god bless you.
ive got ten best friends like brethren and a few hens that want to get in. ive got a tavern in the woods and a fountain on a mountain. ive got five one it, come up on it, be upon it cause i spawned it now im yawning, six in the mornin'.
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