Wednesday, August 31, 2005
And I'm Still In Love
I'm still in love with you, like two white wing doves on fire, diving towards paradise, I'm still in love with you...and I want you to love me too.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Oh the Dreams We Have...
!!BEST DREAM EVER!!
I awoke from quite possibly the best dream of all time this evening after work, before I went to run and work out. I dreamt that I was fronting a successful alt-country band, living in Carolina, working on our follow-up album to our commercially unsuccessful, but cult-followed first album. I was sitting out on the backporch of the hillside cabin where we made a makeshift studio to record said sophomore album, and I was having a whiskey with a cigarette. I was strumming the guitar, picking out chords and arranging the songs in my head (which actually was happening in my dream and I wish I could remember the song my brain was constructing, cause man it was fucking sweet) and I looked down the hillside to the river. Paddling slowly in a canoe, dressed in a white-summer dress was the most astonishingly gorgeous girl I've ever seen in my life.
She pulled up on shore and walked up to the cabin, stuck out her hand to shake mine and said, "Hi, I'm Natalie Portman, and I love your music!" "I've been so intent on meeting you, I thought I would find you here, but there are no roads leading to this place." "So I bought a canoe from a friendly elderly man up the river and found you by water!" "Would you like to go with me further down the river?"
So I stood up, walked hand in hand with her down to the canoe. She told me how she knew that I was the one she was looking for before she even met me, and I told her the same. We smiled and laughed for a little while, paddled down the river as the sunset, and then reached shore at a cafe that was along the river banks. We had drinks and sat at a table for two while she talked about simplicity and gratefulness and intellectualism all in a humorous way. I was in awe, and just about the time that we were going to leave, I was awaken by the sound of Ray Romano yelling at the top of his lungs about golf on my stupid TV.
Fucking Raymond...yeah, not everybody loves you cocksucker!!
Where's my Natalie Portman?
Cory Will
I awoke from quite possibly the best dream of all time this evening after work, before I went to run and work out. I dreamt that I was fronting a successful alt-country band, living in Carolina, working on our follow-up album to our commercially unsuccessful, but cult-followed first album. I was sitting out on the backporch of the hillside cabin where we made a makeshift studio to record said sophomore album, and I was having a whiskey with a cigarette. I was strumming the guitar, picking out chords and arranging the songs in my head (which actually was happening in my dream and I wish I could remember the song my brain was constructing, cause man it was fucking sweet) and I looked down the hillside to the river. Paddling slowly in a canoe, dressed in a white-summer dress was the most astonishingly gorgeous girl I've ever seen in my life.
She pulled up on shore and walked up to the cabin, stuck out her hand to shake mine and said, "Hi, I'm Natalie Portman, and I love your music!" "I've been so intent on meeting you, I thought I would find you here, but there are no roads leading to this place." "So I bought a canoe from a friendly elderly man up the river and found you by water!" "Would you like to go with me further down the river?"
So I stood up, walked hand in hand with her down to the canoe. She told me how she knew that I was the one she was looking for before she even met me, and I told her the same. We smiled and laughed for a little while, paddled down the river as the sunset, and then reached shore at a cafe that was along the river banks. We had drinks and sat at a table for two while she talked about simplicity and gratefulness and intellectualism all in a humorous way. I was in awe, and just about the time that we were going to leave, I was awaken by the sound of Ray Romano yelling at the top of his lungs about golf on my stupid TV.
Fucking Raymond...yeah, not everybody loves you cocksucker!!
Where's my Natalie Portman?
Cory Will
My Mom, the Candle Fairy
My mom buys candles like Kate Moss buys heroin. She tries to give them to my sister and I, every time we see her, and I already have enough candles to make a wax monument...of the HIMALAYAS!
So if you need a candle, and your's has burned out, put it under your pillow, and in the morning she will have left you one, ready to burn and fill your house with a pleasant aroma.
Cory Will
So if you need a candle, and your's has burned out, put it under your pillow, and in the morning she will have left you one, ready to burn and fill your house with a pleasant aroma.
Cory Will
Sunday, August 28, 2005
Farewell New Orleans
Dear New Orleans,
I am thinking about killing you tonight. For too long I've sat in the Atlantic, waiting for my opportunity to take my shot at you and your pretentious old-world stigmata - meets modern-nuclear-decadence. What did you expect? A love letter. How can I love you when you swallow so many into your voodoo mash of French obtrusion. So many blow-jobs on the crowded street corners, too many palms being read (when we all know that it's complete horse-shit), mass consumption of mushrooms and other psychadelic drugs, as you parade your dead down the streets to the sarcophagi that dot the cemetaries, while old men with trumpets and trombones, dressed in striped hats throw confetti along the sidewalks. Your spicy foods and holistic medicines can't save you now. What were you thinking when you squatted in the Mississippi Delta? Are you really that naive? Haven't you been beaten by the Ol' Mississip' enough to know to stop your evil ways? Is this what it is going to take?
You know, it might be a good idea, if you're fortunate enough to have the chance, to plant yourself above sea-level. Seems like common sense to me, and I'm a whirling, mass of air, with meteoric confusion at all times...and even I'm smart enough to know that. I've been traveling for awhile...got my sea legs underneath me, and made a stop on the way at Miami to slap the shit out of their shiny faces and bring them down a notch. Write a song about what I did there Will Smith...I'll bet it won't bring smiling faces, barely dressed to hit the chic Latino clubs!
So, I'm not far from you now, and I'm throwing the hay-maker tonite. I'd suggest you wrap up your formal goodbye's to your cajun-soaked, fleur de lis-covered, mess of an existence. I suppose the kids will be able to find a place to expose breasts and genitals somewhere else. I'm not real sure, and to be honest, that's of no concern to me. I've got my eye set on the bigger picture, but believe me I've definitely saved my best for the French Quarter.
You've survived the War of 1812, mass repeated attempts by the Mississippi to take you out, and even God has stayed his hand from crumbling your structures to dust, but my friend...you haven't seen anything like me yet. I have a lust for vengeance, and you happen to be in my way. I'll pass over you like rolling thunder, pounding your economic structures and more than likely, taking a few lives while I'm at it. I'll rain hell on you for a brief period of time, and then I'll slowly move inward where I'll eventually die out a peaceful death, bringing slow soothing rains to the Great Plains. But you my friend...you will be my mark in this eternity. I'll live forever through the punishment I induce upon you. You'll struggle for years, and as my fruits are sprouting in Missourri and Arkansas, you'll wonder what happened in that sour year of 2005.
Oh...you'll see the beads fly tonight...that I promise!
Expect my arrival soon...
Sincerely,
Katrina
I am thinking about killing you tonight. For too long I've sat in the Atlantic, waiting for my opportunity to take my shot at you and your pretentious old-world stigmata - meets modern-nuclear-decadence. What did you expect? A love letter. How can I love you when you swallow so many into your voodoo mash of French obtrusion. So many blow-jobs on the crowded street corners, too many palms being read (when we all know that it's complete horse-shit), mass consumption of mushrooms and other psychadelic drugs, as you parade your dead down the streets to the sarcophagi that dot the cemetaries, while old men with trumpets and trombones, dressed in striped hats throw confetti along the sidewalks. Your spicy foods and holistic medicines can't save you now. What were you thinking when you squatted in the Mississippi Delta? Are you really that naive? Haven't you been beaten by the Ol' Mississip' enough to know to stop your evil ways? Is this what it is going to take?
You know, it might be a good idea, if you're fortunate enough to have the chance, to plant yourself above sea-level. Seems like common sense to me, and I'm a whirling, mass of air, with meteoric confusion at all times...and even I'm smart enough to know that. I've been traveling for awhile...got my sea legs underneath me, and made a stop on the way at Miami to slap the shit out of their shiny faces and bring them down a notch. Write a song about what I did there Will Smith...I'll bet it won't bring smiling faces, barely dressed to hit the chic Latino clubs!
So, I'm not far from you now, and I'm throwing the hay-maker tonite. I'd suggest you wrap up your formal goodbye's to your cajun-soaked, fleur de lis-covered, mess of an existence. I suppose the kids will be able to find a place to expose breasts and genitals somewhere else. I'm not real sure, and to be honest, that's of no concern to me. I've got my eye set on the bigger picture, but believe me I've definitely saved my best for the French Quarter.
You've survived the War of 1812, mass repeated attempts by the Mississippi to take you out, and even God has stayed his hand from crumbling your structures to dust, but my friend...you haven't seen anything like me yet. I have a lust for vengeance, and you happen to be in my way. I'll pass over you like rolling thunder, pounding your economic structures and more than likely, taking a few lives while I'm at it. I'll rain hell on you for a brief period of time, and then I'll slowly move inward where I'll eventually die out a peaceful death, bringing slow soothing rains to the Great Plains. But you my friend...you will be my mark in this eternity. I'll live forever through the punishment I induce upon you. You'll struggle for years, and as my fruits are sprouting in Missourri and Arkansas, you'll wonder what happened in that sour year of 2005.
Oh...you'll see the beads fly tonight...that I promise!
Expect my arrival soon...
Sincerely,
Katrina
Friday, August 26, 2005
Melody of Riot In the Wilderness of Oxygen
I am the six-cylinder revolver blown wide open...waiting for a target to eye. Pull the trigger, release me from the firing pin and rifled-barrel. As I fly...rapidly unfolding with ballistic velocity, sailing through the wind. With good aim, I'll hit my mark. Flying with cognitive dissonance, I'm creating vortices. Fly behind me and you'll fly smooth. Fly with me and I'll share it with you. Fly in front of me to get in the way. Relative contentment fly's with me...because I have no other choice. I'll induce pain, or I'll induce victory...depending on the side you're on...who's doing the shooting and who's getting shot.
Don't wave the white flag...I like a fight. We'll know more about each other when the blood's on the pavement and we're gasping for sanctity. Give up now and we'll miss the chance for completion. Let's compress it all and scratch to the bone to find ourselves. And if it doesn't yet happen...we'll reload...cock the hammer...let it fly...
The facts remain the same...only distance has changed.
Melody of riot in the wilderness of oxygen,
Mercy on the waterfall mist, in the middle-class sea.
Wounded in the world by a single twist of hate, it's all over now.
You're headed for the atmoshpere,
You're headed for the atmosphere.
Don't wave the white flag...I like a fight. We'll know more about each other when the blood's on the pavement and we're gasping for sanctity. Give up now and we'll miss the chance for completion. Let's compress it all and scratch to the bone to find ourselves. And if it doesn't yet happen...we'll reload...cock the hammer...let it fly...
The facts remain the same...only distance has changed.
Melody of riot in the wilderness of oxygen,
Mercy on the waterfall mist, in the middle-class sea.
Wounded in the world by a single twist of hate, it's all over now.
You're headed for the atmoshpere,
You're headed for the atmosphere.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
My Life In Hi-Fidelity
Right now...what a funny dynamic...the present. You hear all these cliche, life-directing words of wisdom throughout our lives that instruct you to live life in the present and not focus on the past (because it can't be changed) and the future (because you never know what's going to happen). But sometimes I find these words hard to live by. What if the present sucks ass and all you can think about is the past and the future.
The future is scary. It's a wide-open world of unknown, that can send your brain on a carnival-style rotation, whirling around, trying to analyze where you're going to be and what you're going to do. Splintered thoughts generate different circumstances and paths to follow...each with their own conclusion and end result. It's maddening trying to decide which of these paths to follow and see where it takes us, be it a good idea, or a horrible misjudgement.
The past is the easiest to live in because no matter how good or completely fucked it was...it was familiar. Being a creature of habit, like most of us are in one way or another, it's somewhat comforting, albeit a little massochistic, to live in the past. No matter what happened to you, you can't change it and you're effectively spinning your wheels if your state of mind is enveloped in things that happened before now.
The present, by all rational thought, should be where we're focused. Because it's the things we do in the present that will direct our future in one way or another. So by living for the future, we are missing out on what may direct that future in the present. And the present is by nature an ephemeral entity. A short-lived being that sometimes seems dull with no benefits attached, but it's this "brevity of now" that indirectly leads us to the later. I've been pulling my hair out trying to figure this shit out.
Right now I feel like every decision I make, every thought I have, every feeling I express is something I should have done in the past, or hoping that it has a desired outcome for the future. Instead of living the day for the day, and then playing the hand I'm dealt, I am looking for the home-run before I'm even on deck to start my practice swings. It seems that everything I do at this point is pivotal to rest of my life. In a broad sense that may be true, but not to the extent I'm taking it. It seems that everything I say, everything I consider, everything I do is going to affect the rest of my life, and I'm too focused on the end result of these things instead of just letting the dominoes fall where they may.
One of my friends told me the other day that real men make decisions, be it right or wrong, they make them and stick to them. Indecision is the worst. It's all-consuming and leads to worry, which leads to uncertainty, which by this time, leads to failure or at least breakdown because you couldn't make up your mind and driven yourself so crazy that the time has past or you're expectations are so jaded, your point of view has turned negative and any positive affirmation has flown the coop...almost cowardly.
I've got a friend who is basically a fucking "chicken-little." The sky is always falling and crashing down with no hope. A bit of an alarmist you might say. I can't be like that. I consider myself cynnically optimistic, with low expectations of anything I'm involved in, but on the other hand, I'm willing to give it my best try and see what happens. Nothing is guaranteed, but if negativity is the attitude you carry, life will surprisingly imitate your state of mind. If you think you can't do it...you won't. If you think you can do it, then you have a better chance of making it happen, even though there's a chance it might not. If you give up from the get-go, you can go ahead and mail it in as a failed attempt. A positive approach is the best way, because what have you got to lose. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work, but at least you tried, and if by a stroke of luck or blessing from above, it does work...then my friend...be thankful and keep at it.
I've basically been doing some intense soul-searching lately, and I'm finding a few things out about myself. My weaknesses, my strengths, and my ability to adapt to certain situations and try to make the best out of them, even when every thing I want to happen is probably not going to. So that leads me back to the present. I can't change the past, and the future will meet me when I get there. I'll shake it's hand and say, "Well, where do we go from here?"
Cory Will
The future is scary. It's a wide-open world of unknown, that can send your brain on a carnival-style rotation, whirling around, trying to analyze where you're going to be and what you're going to do. Splintered thoughts generate different circumstances and paths to follow...each with their own conclusion and end result. It's maddening trying to decide which of these paths to follow and see where it takes us, be it a good idea, or a horrible misjudgement.
The past is the easiest to live in because no matter how good or completely fucked it was...it was familiar. Being a creature of habit, like most of us are in one way or another, it's somewhat comforting, albeit a little massochistic, to live in the past. No matter what happened to you, you can't change it and you're effectively spinning your wheels if your state of mind is enveloped in things that happened before now.
The present, by all rational thought, should be where we're focused. Because it's the things we do in the present that will direct our future in one way or another. So by living for the future, we are missing out on what may direct that future in the present. And the present is by nature an ephemeral entity. A short-lived being that sometimes seems dull with no benefits attached, but it's this "brevity of now" that indirectly leads us to the later. I've been pulling my hair out trying to figure this shit out.
Right now I feel like every decision I make, every thought I have, every feeling I express is something I should have done in the past, or hoping that it has a desired outcome for the future. Instead of living the day for the day, and then playing the hand I'm dealt, I am looking for the home-run before I'm even on deck to start my practice swings. It seems that everything I do at this point is pivotal to rest of my life. In a broad sense that may be true, but not to the extent I'm taking it. It seems that everything I say, everything I consider, everything I do is going to affect the rest of my life, and I'm too focused on the end result of these things instead of just letting the dominoes fall where they may.
One of my friends told me the other day that real men make decisions, be it right or wrong, they make them and stick to them. Indecision is the worst. It's all-consuming and leads to worry, which leads to uncertainty, which by this time, leads to failure or at least breakdown because you couldn't make up your mind and driven yourself so crazy that the time has past or you're expectations are so jaded, your point of view has turned negative and any positive affirmation has flown the coop...almost cowardly.
I've got a friend who is basically a fucking "chicken-little." The sky is always falling and crashing down with no hope. A bit of an alarmist you might say. I can't be like that. I consider myself cynnically optimistic, with low expectations of anything I'm involved in, but on the other hand, I'm willing to give it my best try and see what happens. Nothing is guaranteed, but if negativity is the attitude you carry, life will surprisingly imitate your state of mind. If you think you can't do it...you won't. If you think you can do it, then you have a better chance of making it happen, even though there's a chance it might not. If you give up from the get-go, you can go ahead and mail it in as a failed attempt. A positive approach is the best way, because what have you got to lose. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work, but at least you tried, and if by a stroke of luck or blessing from above, it does work...then my friend...be thankful and keep at it.
I've basically been doing some intense soul-searching lately, and I'm finding a few things out about myself. My weaknesses, my strengths, and my ability to adapt to certain situations and try to make the best out of them, even when every thing I want to happen is probably not going to. So that leads me back to the present. I can't change the past, and the future will meet me when I get there. I'll shake it's hand and say, "Well, where do we go from here?"
Cory Will
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Under the Shade Tree
In the park
With buildings suspended in antiquity
You and me
Under the Shade Tree
Lay with me now
Like you once did
Spring on the rise
Love on the fall
Your reflex of impulsivity
I'm spiraling...
I like it anyways
It's you
Who you are
On a blanket with blue sky
Matches the blue in your eye
Matches mine
The names in a sentence
Just because
Drivers pass by
A moment in our lives
Not aware of us
But I'm aware
You're aware
It's all that matters in that time
Like a childhood nursery rhyme
Teaching us allegory
Parallels to life
Happy endings
Scary lessons
Fruitful existence
What did I do
Scared of me?
The trees break the view
They can't see me and you
Sweaty...
Engaged...
Dancing with the songbirds
Only they can fly
I see clarity
It's starring at me
Your scent on the breeze
Your kiss on my mouth
Take a picture
Let's remember this
No matter the time
It will always be
It's not the same anymore
Fall on the rise
Love disappears
Wish you were here
As lonely as can be
Without you
Under the Shade Tree...
With buildings suspended in antiquity
You and me
Under the Shade Tree
Lay with me now
Like you once did
Spring on the rise
Love on the fall
Your reflex of impulsivity
I'm spiraling...
I like it anyways
It's you
Who you are
On a blanket with blue sky
Matches the blue in your eye
Matches mine
The names in a sentence
Just because
Drivers pass by
A moment in our lives
Not aware of us
But I'm aware
You're aware
It's all that matters in that time
Like a childhood nursery rhyme
Teaching us allegory
Parallels to life
Happy endings
Scary lessons
Fruitful existence
What did I do
Scared of me?
The trees break the view
They can't see me and you
Sweaty...
Engaged...
Dancing with the songbirds
Only they can fly
I see clarity
It's starring at me
Your scent on the breeze
Your kiss on my mouth
Take a picture
Let's remember this
No matter the time
It will always be
It's not the same anymore
Fall on the rise
Love disappears
Wish you were here
As lonely as can be
Without you
Under the Shade Tree...
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
A River Runs Through It...
I made my first trip to float the river this last weekend...and the trip was about as blurry as the river water itself. I've grown up in Texas my whole life and have never once floated the Guadalupe River, which by the way is nut-contracting. Getting in I seriously had to swallow my testicles back down to their rightful place of residence. The whole thing was "spur of the moment," "fuck it, why not" stream of consciousness. I could've stayed and worked AND saved money, but nobody ever accused me of being a genius, and besides, I've never floated the river, so I figured A) I'm not driving, B) We're coming back Saturday night (brilliant idea) C) I can save money and go before it gets too cold and there's still some summer left.
So we spend the night in Waco on Friday night and go to the infamous George's Bar...or should I say the lame-ass George's Bar. Okay this is weird...they're (they being the radio station I work at) playing a Pat Green song right now over the speakers in my office...weird! Anyway's you write one song about a shithole dive restaraunt and it turns into a novelty act. It wasn't that bad, but it's no Hotel California...AHAHAHAHAHAHA....lame.
After jumping on Andry's trampoline and miraculously avoiding paralysis (crack the egg...what a game!)for about an hour we all decide to turn in. By the way, Andry's mom loves Coca-Cola memorabilia. I felt like I was in a museum of Coke artifacts. Very nice lady though...cooks the hell outta some breakfast burritos. Andry, if you ever came to my parent's house you would feel like you were in a Southern Living ad or quite possibly a taxidermy so there's that.
The river was bad-ass! I highly recommend it to anyone and everyone. I mean it's basically a combination of archaic Irish boozing with surf-board mentality all rolled together in one high-rising-yeast-loaf-of-fun! Got drunk...really drunk. Ran into some people from college. Robert, we ran into "scarface" Courtney. She was with some guy who looks like he eats pit bulls for breakfast and then shits them out into compact dumbells for him to work out with...complete with tribal armband tattoo, Abercrombie and Fitch hat, and glasses that Vin Diesel would endorse.
So Fern and I left about 48 beers up at the drop point where we get in the river and remembered it about 2 miles down. Luckily, we convinced some poor kid who was working there over the summer, picking up tubes and sweating his ass off for a ride to the nearest convenience store to rectify the situation. That's where we met Satan herself. This lady would not let us buy beer without 32 forms of ID. I think I even had to show her my taint...
The drive back was amazingly "death free." I called my sister when we got back to the truck to come pick me up and bring me back to Dallas on Sunday, but she wasn't having any of that...maybe because she was SOBER. So I fought and yelled and negotiated with her for my travel arrangements the next day, but she couldn't be swayed. Hung up the phone cussed a little under my breathe about my sister and then I decided that if I was going to kick it, it would be on I35 back to Dallas in a wet bathing suit that was giving me the red-ass. What a way to die!
Luckily for us we made it back in one piece. Sorry to those I missed in Austin...I'll be there for ACL. Sorry to those who missed out on the river...you blow.
So we spend the night in Waco on Friday night and go to the infamous George's Bar...or should I say the lame-ass George's Bar. Okay this is weird...they're (they being the radio station I work at) playing a Pat Green song right now over the speakers in my office...weird! Anyway's you write one song about a shithole dive restaraunt and it turns into a novelty act. It wasn't that bad, but it's no Hotel California...AHAHAHAHAHAHA....lame.
After jumping on Andry's trampoline and miraculously avoiding paralysis (crack the egg...what a game!)for about an hour we all decide to turn in. By the way, Andry's mom loves Coca-Cola memorabilia. I felt like I was in a museum of Coke artifacts. Very nice lady though...cooks the hell outta some breakfast burritos. Andry, if you ever came to my parent's house you would feel like you were in a Southern Living ad or quite possibly a taxidermy so there's that.
The river was bad-ass! I highly recommend it to anyone and everyone. I mean it's basically a combination of archaic Irish boozing with surf-board mentality all rolled together in one high-rising-yeast-loaf-of-fun! Got drunk...really drunk. Ran into some people from college. Robert, we ran into "scarface" Courtney. She was with some guy who looks like he eats pit bulls for breakfast and then shits them out into compact dumbells for him to work out with...complete with tribal armband tattoo, Abercrombie and Fitch hat, and glasses that Vin Diesel would endorse.
So Fern and I left about 48 beers up at the drop point where we get in the river and remembered it about 2 miles down. Luckily, we convinced some poor kid who was working there over the summer, picking up tubes and sweating his ass off for a ride to the nearest convenience store to rectify the situation. That's where we met Satan herself. This lady would not let us buy beer without 32 forms of ID. I think I even had to show her my taint...
The drive back was amazingly "death free." I called my sister when we got back to the truck to come pick me up and bring me back to Dallas on Sunday, but she wasn't having any of that...maybe because she was SOBER. So I fought and yelled and negotiated with her for my travel arrangements the next day, but she couldn't be swayed. Hung up the phone cussed a little under my breathe about my sister and then I decided that if I was going to kick it, it would be on I35 back to Dallas in a wet bathing suit that was giving me the red-ass. What a way to die!
Luckily for us we made it back in one piece. Sorry to those I missed in Austin...I'll be there for ACL. Sorry to those who missed out on the river...you blow.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Should I Stay or Should I Go?
Hello all,
I've been pretty busy with work lately so there's not been much action on this shit...not that there ever really is. I've got a 7:00pm meeting tonight so I have a little time to let you dwindle in the affairs of my life for awhile. I played basketball last night with some of the guys from my work and it was FUCKING humid. I'm talking HUMID. It was probably only 86 degrees max, but the humidity was a rotten bitch. After the game(s), I probably couldn't have been more soaked if I had jumped into a river of freaking sweat. Yeah, one big sweaty river. It was like having sweaty sex with the surrounding atmoshpere. I did "ball on dem foo's" though. Whatever...
So I'm giving some thought into moving out of state. I've become increasingly restless with where I'm at right now, even though I just started a new job. I guess it's just the blankness and superficiality of Dallas that I am beginning to hate more and more, or maybe it's something else. One of my friends is talking of a move to Pheonix to try and get on with one of the sports teams out there. I don't think it would be such a bad idea, but I have this overriding tug at the back of my shirt, telling me, "No. Don't do it. Stay put and get into your career. Work hard. Make money. Save money. Pay off debts, and be a FUCKING GROWN-UP YOU STUPID IRRESPONSIBLE SON-OF-A-BITCH!" (At which point this tug, becomes a tractor pull)
I don't know. The furthest I've ever been out of state is Tennessee...and Tennessee sucks in the summer. (Name that little reference, and I'll buy you a beer) Actually, it does suck...I just kind of feel like I'm missing out on so much shit. I don't know how hard it would be for me, because I'm really close to my family and there's so many things that Texas offers me that appeal to me on a recreational level, particularly with all things outdoors. But I'm sure there are new things to get into in other parts of the country. I know I don't want to go east of the Mississippi, unless it's Carolina. Other than that, I'll probably keep my aspirations pointed west of Texas. I've been looking into other jobs, I know, I know, I just got one, but shit man, I really have no reason to stay here...or to put it better and more logically than that, there's nothing holding me back from doing this. On a scale of 1 to 10, my seriousness about it is at a 4, maybe 4.5. I would have to find a good paying job, an affordable place to live, and I would have to have some money saved up to make the transition.
My grandfather fought in the Second World War, was stationed in England and saw parts of Germany he didn't want to see imprisoned in a POW camp for two years. My other grandfather fought in the Phillipines and did a tour in Korea. My father was stationed in Idaho in the heart of the Rockies as a fire wrangler for the forest service, and spent summers in Colorado cutting timber lines for the logging companies. One of my uncles fought in Vietnam, another uncle has been all over the world studying wildlife and range management. My ancestors came over by boat from Germany to settle in the Gulf of Mexico at Indianola and moved to South Texas, the other side of my family came over on a spice freighter from England and crossed the country to settle in Texas, They all did this in the time before the steam engine was invented. I haven't even been further than fucking Tennessee....and it was a school trip in high school. I've never even flown in a jet before....
Fucking Tennessee...Tennessee sucks...
Cory Will
I've been pretty busy with work lately so there's not been much action on this shit...not that there ever really is. I've got a 7:00pm meeting tonight so I have a little time to let you dwindle in the affairs of my life for awhile. I played basketball last night with some of the guys from my work and it was FUCKING humid. I'm talking HUMID. It was probably only 86 degrees max, but the humidity was a rotten bitch. After the game(s), I probably couldn't have been more soaked if I had jumped into a river of freaking sweat. Yeah, one big sweaty river. It was like having sweaty sex with the surrounding atmoshpere. I did "ball on dem foo's" though. Whatever...
So I'm giving some thought into moving out of state. I've become increasingly restless with where I'm at right now, even though I just started a new job. I guess it's just the blankness and superficiality of Dallas that I am beginning to hate more and more, or maybe it's something else. One of my friends is talking of a move to Pheonix to try and get on with one of the sports teams out there. I don't think it would be such a bad idea, but I have this overriding tug at the back of my shirt, telling me, "No. Don't do it. Stay put and get into your career. Work hard. Make money. Save money. Pay off debts, and be a FUCKING GROWN-UP YOU STUPID IRRESPONSIBLE SON-OF-A-BITCH!" (At which point this tug, becomes a tractor pull)
I don't know. The furthest I've ever been out of state is Tennessee...and Tennessee sucks in the summer. (Name that little reference, and I'll buy you a beer) Actually, it does suck...I just kind of feel like I'm missing out on so much shit. I don't know how hard it would be for me, because I'm really close to my family and there's so many things that Texas offers me that appeal to me on a recreational level, particularly with all things outdoors. But I'm sure there are new things to get into in other parts of the country. I know I don't want to go east of the Mississippi, unless it's Carolina. Other than that, I'll probably keep my aspirations pointed west of Texas. I've been looking into other jobs, I know, I know, I just got one, but shit man, I really have no reason to stay here...or to put it better and more logically than that, there's nothing holding me back from doing this. On a scale of 1 to 10, my seriousness about it is at a 4, maybe 4.5. I would have to find a good paying job, an affordable place to live, and I would have to have some money saved up to make the transition.
My grandfather fought in the Second World War, was stationed in England and saw parts of Germany he didn't want to see imprisoned in a POW camp for two years. My other grandfather fought in the Phillipines and did a tour in Korea. My father was stationed in Idaho in the heart of the Rockies as a fire wrangler for the forest service, and spent summers in Colorado cutting timber lines for the logging companies. One of my uncles fought in Vietnam, another uncle has been all over the world studying wildlife and range management. My ancestors came over by boat from Germany to settle in the Gulf of Mexico at Indianola and moved to South Texas, the other side of my family came over on a spice freighter from England and crossed the country to settle in Texas, They all did this in the time before the steam engine was invented. I haven't even been further than fucking Tennessee....and it was a school trip in high school. I've never even flown in a jet before....
Fucking Tennessee...Tennessee sucks...
Cory Will
Monday, August 15, 2005
Oh, Archangel
For a man may be chastened on a bed of pain
with constant distress in his bones,
so that his very being finds food repulsive
and his soul loathes the choicest meal.
His flesh wastes away to nothing
and his bones, once hidden, now stick out.
His soul draws near to the pit
and his life to the messengers of death.
Yet, if there is an angel on his side as a mediator,
one out of a thousand,
to tell a man what is right for him,
to be gracious to him and say,
"Spare him from going down, I have found a ransom for him."
Then his flesh is renewed like a child's;
It is restored as in the days of his youth.
He prays to God and finds favor with Him,
he sees God's face and shouts for joy;
he is restored by God to his righteous state.
with constant distress in his bones,
so that his very being finds food repulsive
and his soul loathes the choicest meal.
His flesh wastes away to nothing
and his bones, once hidden, now stick out.
His soul draws near to the pit
and his life to the messengers of death.
Yet, if there is an angel on his side as a mediator,
one out of a thousand,
to tell a man what is right for him,
to be gracious to him and say,
"Spare him from going down, I have found a ransom for him."
Then his flesh is renewed like a child's;
It is restored as in the days of his youth.
He prays to God and finds favor with Him,
he sees God's face and shouts for joy;
he is restored by God to his righteous state.
Friday, August 12, 2005
Ouww...
My God, I'm hungover. And to that special someone who helped me home last night...thank you SO, SO very much. Sorry for pestering you...but, I find you somewhat intriguing!
Many thanks,
Cory Will
Many thanks,
Cory Will
Thursday, August 11, 2005
There's Fire in the Water?
Well, after spending the day with perhaps the most unusually odd person I've ever met in my life (who coincidentally works for Radio Disney), I'm off to Firewater Bar and Grill for our Twister Music Series. Boy, I'd love to score a gig at this place. The set-up is fantastic, and I'm sure whoever plays up there feels like an unconquerable rock-star. I actually am planning on drinking myself completely stupid with my co-workers this evening and wearing my hangover to work tommorrow. Oh well, it's a Friday...AND I get to spend it with Mr. Radio Disney again.
Just a little side note about this guy. His name is Jay and he's one of the promotions directors for the Disney station at ABC Radio. Now keep in mind that he deals with kids on a weekly basis and is basically a kid himself. He's some rich kid who grew up on daddy's money, he's 37 years old, got an electrical engineering degree from Texas A&M and hasn't done a damn thing with it. He just goes to promotions and hands out Disney toys to kids and basically fucks off the whole day. He's loud obnoxious and sometimes incredibly funny. He also has a super-hot wife, which he will remind you of at least five times a day, and acts more immature than me...unbelievable I know, but he accomplishes it. So I'm riding around with Jay today and I'm asking about his family and kids. He tells me that his wife was infertile and how they tried to test-tube the kid into the world at least four or five times. He then tells me in complete seriousness that, "after repeated unsuccessful attempts to knock my wife up, we decided that I would sleep with her sister and have our kids that way. So I had sex with her sister and voila!" I'm sitting there trying to keep from choking on my tonuge and feigning seriousness by telling him, "Oh...well that's cool man!" He keeps this story up for the better part of half an hour and then finally tells me he's joking. WHO JOKES ABOUT THAT? To someone you don't even really know for that matter! Come to find out though, his wife's sister pulled a Pheobe Bouffet for them and had her fertilized eggs implanted into her uterus and then shit out his kid...AND he's going into great attentive detail about the whole birthing process. By this time, I'm laughing my fucking ass off, and he tells me that, "seeing my wife's sister's snatch, really turned me off of snatch for about three or four months....I've got it on video too." Outstanding...
What the fuck...
Well I'm off to Firewater and my eventual drunkeness...and I damn well need it too. Maybe I can be cool and play at Firewater someday, because anybody who plays there gets ALL the chicks!! Wink, Wink....
I better start kissing some ass.
Fair eve,
Cory Will
Just a little side note about this guy. His name is Jay and he's one of the promotions directors for the Disney station at ABC Radio. Now keep in mind that he deals with kids on a weekly basis and is basically a kid himself. He's some rich kid who grew up on daddy's money, he's 37 years old, got an electrical engineering degree from Texas A&M and hasn't done a damn thing with it. He just goes to promotions and hands out Disney toys to kids and basically fucks off the whole day. He's loud obnoxious and sometimes incredibly funny. He also has a super-hot wife, which he will remind you of at least five times a day, and acts more immature than me...unbelievable I know, but he accomplishes it. So I'm riding around with Jay today and I'm asking about his family and kids. He tells me that his wife was infertile and how they tried to test-tube the kid into the world at least four or five times. He then tells me in complete seriousness that, "after repeated unsuccessful attempts to knock my wife up, we decided that I would sleep with her sister and have our kids that way. So I had sex with her sister and voila!" I'm sitting there trying to keep from choking on my tonuge and feigning seriousness by telling him, "Oh...well that's cool man!" He keeps this story up for the better part of half an hour and then finally tells me he's joking. WHO JOKES ABOUT THAT? To someone you don't even really know for that matter! Come to find out though, his wife's sister pulled a Pheobe Bouffet for them and had her fertilized eggs implanted into her uterus and then shit out his kid...AND he's going into great attentive detail about the whole birthing process. By this time, I'm laughing my fucking ass off, and he tells me that, "seeing my wife's sister's snatch, really turned me off of snatch for about three or four months....I've got it on video too." Outstanding...
What the fuck...
Well I'm off to Firewater and my eventual drunkeness...and I damn well need it too. Maybe I can be cool and play at Firewater someday, because anybody who plays there gets ALL the chicks!! Wink, Wink....
I better start kissing some ass.
Fair eve,
Cory Will
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Middle America
I am currently working on a pictorial depiction of Middle America (kinda like a portrait of small-town life, tradition, history, Americana, etc.) with my digital camera. Just another thing to lose interest in later on, but it's been pretty fun so far. I really like these pictures so I figured I'd share a few.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
You Will Address the Situation or RUE THE DAY You Didn't!!
So my blegth has been a bit of a downer lately. Well, that's how it sometimes goes. I guess its been a direct reflection of how my life is going lately, and being that it offers me an avenue for venting, I would like to have a few things understood.
Control - I have none, and starting to realize that. You can't control many things in life and it's stroke-inducing at times, but you can adapt. I feel that the people who have the ability to adapt are most often the ones who's head is in order...something I'm looking into...seriously.
Like my favorite movie, Fight Club, says - "those who have lost hope have nothing to lose." Granted, that's a bit non-committal and a little desparaging, but there's lot's of truth to that. And by interpreting this with a critical eye, one can deduce that the past is the past and there's no changing it. Those who hold on to their possessions worldly and otherwise, become so overwhelmed with their lack of control that it starts controlling them. Trust me, fellow readers (all two of you), I'm definitely learning some life lessons right now! Fairly obvious?....yeah just a bit!
That's the beauty of life. When you're cruising along at mach speed with nothing but smoothness in front of you, life will occasionaly grease up it's fingers, wind up, and throw you a sick curve ball just to brush you back off the plate. Then you know what's coming. The question is can you hit the next one. Can you swing away? Send it out of the park? It's the time when you test your metal, and see what the hell your made of...other than organic matter and water of course. As my very amazing, and super-insightful friend Rachel says, "the more change i see in my own life, the more i realize that fair and unfair, happy or not happy has little do with whatever the universe has in store for us-- life is just life, and it is beautiful, even when it sucks." Amen, to that. Shit man, makes good sense to me, and sense is something that has slowly and quietly crept away from me for awhile.
As my favorite poet Walt Whitman so wisely noted, "I exist as I am, that is enough." Damn straight Walt, you crazy bastard!!
Best
Cory Will
Monday, August 08, 2005
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Sometimes, I feel as if...
...insanity is the only normality in this world.
...I can't reach out to you.
...it's not going to get better.
...it's going to get better.
...life is passing me by.
...life is amazing.
...people generally are deceiving.
...I care too much about it.
...I don't care enough.
...the end is not the beginning.
...the end is the end.
...the whole is less than the sum of it's parts.
...risk is the only way to achieve anything.
...certainty is boring.
...boredom is necessary.
...necessity is more simple than we think.
...simplicity is sanity.
...sanity isn't normal.
...I can't reach out to you.
...it's not going to get better.
...it's going to get better.
...life is passing me by.
...life is amazing.
...people generally are deceiving.
...I care too much about it.
...I don't care enough.
...the end is not the beginning.
...the end is the end.
...the whole is less than the sum of it's parts.
...risk is the only way to achieve anything.
...certainty is boring.
...boredom is necessary.
...necessity is more simple than we think.
...simplicity is sanity.
...sanity isn't normal.
Friday, August 05, 2005
Rainy and Confined to Dallas
So if you live within the confines of the "METROPLEX" (I'm pretty sure that was the name of a Transformer when I was a kid), you know that you pretty much need a canoe to get anywhere today. The rain is definitely welcome, but "death-lazer-lightning," I'm not so jacked about. It's been a busy week in the world of radio and I'm glad the weekend is here. Gives me a chance to get some things done that I've needed to do. One being, save money. Just found out that one of my good friends from college is moving here pretty soon, which is really cool...she's a friggin' riot! Hope she doesn't pull some chicken-shit move and back out later, because if she does I might mail her a box of dead gerbils.
I'd better hear some stories from this weekend Beth. I'm sure Will is going to roll into town on a tornado like he always does to leave destruction in his path, so I'd like to hear about it later. You kiddos have fun, and don't go dying on me now. Oh yeah, you've got to get the Kunek album..."Signs of Life" is my new favorite song...AND it will be your's or you will DIE!
Stand up,
Wash off the dust.
You've got it all,
Open your hands and receive,
The things that you need.
The things that deceive,
The things that confuse,
Gain resonance.
But the only one with control,
Is you.
Shout at me loud,
Maybe I'll hear,
It'll bounce off the clouds,
Like you were near.
Maybe I'll hear you,
JUST STAND UP...
God Speed ~~CM17~~
Cory Will
I'd better hear some stories from this weekend Beth. I'm sure Will is going to roll into town on a tornado like he always does to leave destruction in his path, so I'd like to hear about it later. You kiddos have fun, and don't go dying on me now. Oh yeah, you've got to get the Kunek album..."Signs of Life" is my new favorite song...AND it will be your's or you will DIE!
Stand up,
Wash off the dust.
You've got it all,
Open your hands and receive,
The things that you need.
The things that deceive,
The things that confuse,
Gain resonance.
But the only one with control,
Is you.
Shout at me loud,
Maybe I'll hear,
It'll bounce off the clouds,
Like you were near.
Maybe I'll hear you,
JUST STAND UP...
God Speed ~~CM17~~
Cory Will
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
The Art of Fishing and Philosophy - On the Banks of the Red River
So I made it back intact from a blurry weekend in Oklahoma, and hot damn (!), chalk up another one in the win column for trips to Oklahoma. It keeps it's undefeated streak intact for "trips considered a success...or...trips classified as fucking outstanding." Jason, Justin, and I drove up on Friday, and within two minutes of my arrival, I drive down to the pond below the house and Will is holding up a 5 pound bass and Jason and Justin are yelling some bullshit story to me about how "a snake ate Will's lure, and while he was reeling in, a five pound bass ate the snake and got snagged on the lure!" So I say, "Where's this snake?" "Oh he got off..." Yeah, I'm sure that's exactly how it happened with no exaggeration whatsoever...and I gave a hitch-hiking Charlie Chaplin a ride to the train depot outside of Denton.
Anyways, we proceeded to drink ourselves into oblivion, while lying about stories from college, laughing at each other's lies, having an inebriated "meeting of the minds" communal to discuss some various topics, ranging from serious to assinine, and then passing out at about, aww who the hell knows...I couldn't even stand straight enough to piss...I had to sit down to piss in the toilet....
After waking to the sound of the wah-wah's in my head and the skull-crushing headache each of us had, we headed out to Ardmore for more fishing and a complete tour of the facilites where Will has been employed this summer. Matt came up the next day, replacing Jason on the roster (who went home for his graduation party), and we did mass amounts of fishing again in the blazing sun of Ardmore, Oklahoma. After sweating profusely and being the victims of an effective offensive of fire ants, we decided to tour the facilities where Will works. The Noble Foundation is a multi-million dollar wildlife, fisheries, and agricultural research facility, that attracts many top-level professionals in their respective fields to conduct valuable research, accelerating the technologies and breakthroughs behind the agricultural sciences. It's a great place for Will to intern and the experience will be invaluable in the pursuit of his career. Plus, he gets to fish and gets paid for it...cocksucker.
That evening, we piled in the truck after some much needed showers (believe me, sitting out in the hot sun fishing all day, without the comfort of a shower for a day-and-a-half, can turn on you really quick...producing a smell somewhat resembling the lining of a litter box), and headed to McGehee's Catfish. Funny thing is, Justin's last name is McGehee so we pried him to see if we could get our meal comped. Oh irony, you funny bastard...........it didn't work. Not at all. In fact, the only thing McGehee's Catfish did for us was spin off a peristaltic chain reaction leading us to spend the next hour patiently waiting in turn for the bathroom. There's actually a landing strip next to the restaurant, and the place REALLY advertises this fact. Man, whoever flies in to eat McGehee's Laxativefish, better have the proper utilities for dispersing human excrement on the flight home. Geez...this story is getting out of hand, but IT WAS a weekend of seven guys.
That night we all decide to pile in my truck and go carousing through the pastures. Took a few pictures with my digital camera (which I will try to post), and went fishing again for a little while. Justin "claims" to have caught the biggest fish he's ever caught in his life, supposedly weighing in at 8.5 lbs, but the evidence is scarce and transparent. He says he took a picture so the jury is still out I suppose. We all catch a few more fish, then head up to the house for "booze time." We sit out on the truck and I swear if somebody had heard the shit that we were talking about, they would have wanted to kick their own ass for being present, or shoot themselves in the head from confusion. Our topics of conversation ranged from Bigfoot to the Messianic Conspiracy to hot girls to top-secret government aircraft to coyotes to ugly girls to burned-out stars to swimming over the Marianas Trench to girlfriends, and the reflection of space and time as a vehicle to accessing the past. After successfully solving every problem that has faced humanity, we decide to drive stupidly drunk through the pasture in my truck.
Matt, Justin, Will and I pile in and begin to drive NASCAR style through the pastures, completely shit-canned. Creating UFO-like crop circles in the fields of the Noble Foundation and Will “My Future Depends on a Good Recommendation From These People” Moseley, verbally assaults me (with good reason) much to the amusement of my passengers and myself somewhat. Sorry Will...
After that it gets a little blurry and several thousand phone calls later I finally lay my head down on the pillow at 11:15 am on Sunday morning. So now my truck looks like somebody threw 45 angry cats on the paint (nothing a little wax-job can't take care of), and the inside of my truck smells like a Schlitz Brewery.
I'm still dragging ass from this weekend, and considering the circumstances local and otherwise, I'm not doing so bad.
Oh, I almost forgot. I recently got a new cd with the song "Portions for Foxes" by Rilo Kiley. That song is the PERFECT rebuttal to the Killer's "Mr. Brightside." The whole jealous boy/jealous girl thing is pretty well covered in these two songs.
By the way, stories of people on acid/shrooms involving leprechauns/gnomes are now, as recently brought to my attention, interchangeable. Funny...you can just put whatever entity you want too in the blanks and it fits...I guess they do that in Tennessee as well...either that or a coincidence of universal proportions happened during my lifetime, but I wouldn't count on it...
Cory Will
Anyways, we proceeded to drink ourselves into oblivion, while lying about stories from college, laughing at each other's lies, having an inebriated "meeting of the minds" communal to discuss some various topics, ranging from serious to assinine, and then passing out at about, aww who the hell knows...I couldn't even stand straight enough to piss...I had to sit down to piss in the toilet....
After waking to the sound of the wah-wah's in my head and the skull-crushing headache each of us had, we headed out to Ardmore for more fishing and a complete tour of the facilites where Will has been employed this summer. Matt came up the next day, replacing Jason on the roster (who went home for his graduation party), and we did mass amounts of fishing again in the blazing sun of Ardmore, Oklahoma. After sweating profusely and being the victims of an effective offensive of fire ants, we decided to tour the facilities where Will works. The Noble Foundation is a multi-million dollar wildlife, fisheries, and agricultural research facility, that attracts many top-level professionals in their respective fields to conduct valuable research, accelerating the technologies and breakthroughs behind the agricultural sciences. It's a great place for Will to intern and the experience will be invaluable in the pursuit of his career. Plus, he gets to fish and gets paid for it...cocksucker.
That evening, we piled in the truck after some much needed showers (believe me, sitting out in the hot sun fishing all day, without the comfort of a shower for a day-and-a-half, can turn on you really quick...producing a smell somewhat resembling the lining of a litter box), and headed to McGehee's Catfish. Funny thing is, Justin's last name is McGehee so we pried him to see if we could get our meal comped. Oh irony, you funny bastard...........it didn't work. Not at all. In fact, the only thing McGehee's Catfish did for us was spin off a peristaltic chain reaction leading us to spend the next hour patiently waiting in turn for the bathroom. There's actually a landing strip next to the restaurant, and the place REALLY advertises this fact. Man, whoever flies in to eat McGehee's Laxativefish, better have the proper utilities for dispersing human excrement on the flight home. Geez...this story is getting out of hand, but IT WAS a weekend of seven guys.
That night we all decide to pile in my truck and go carousing through the pastures. Took a few pictures with my digital camera (which I will try to post), and went fishing again for a little while. Justin "claims" to have caught the biggest fish he's ever caught in his life, supposedly weighing in at 8.5 lbs, but the evidence is scarce and transparent. He says he took a picture so the jury is still out I suppose. We all catch a few more fish, then head up to the house for "booze time." We sit out on the truck and I swear if somebody had heard the shit that we were talking about, they would have wanted to kick their own ass for being present, or shoot themselves in the head from confusion. Our topics of conversation ranged from Bigfoot to the Messianic Conspiracy to hot girls to top-secret government aircraft to coyotes to ugly girls to burned-out stars to swimming over the Marianas Trench to girlfriends, and the reflection of space and time as a vehicle to accessing the past. After successfully solving every problem that has faced humanity, we decide to drive stupidly drunk through the pasture in my truck.
Matt, Justin, Will and I pile in and begin to drive NASCAR style through the pastures, completely shit-canned. Creating UFO-like crop circles in the fields of the Noble Foundation and Will “My Future Depends on a Good Recommendation From These People” Moseley, verbally assaults me (with good reason) much to the amusement of my passengers and myself somewhat. Sorry Will...
After that it gets a little blurry and several thousand phone calls later I finally lay my head down on the pillow at 11:15 am on Sunday morning. So now my truck looks like somebody threw 45 angry cats on the paint (nothing a little wax-job can't take care of), and the inside of my truck smells like a Schlitz Brewery.
I'm still dragging ass from this weekend, and considering the circumstances local and otherwise, I'm not doing so bad.
Oh, I almost forgot. I recently got a new cd with the song "Portions for Foxes" by Rilo Kiley. That song is the PERFECT rebuttal to the Killer's "Mr. Brightside." The whole jealous boy/jealous girl thing is pretty well covered in these two songs.
By the way, stories of people on acid/shrooms involving leprechauns/gnomes are now, as recently brought to my attention, interchangeable. Funny...you can just put whatever entity you want too in the blanks and it fits...I guess they do that in Tennessee as well...either that or a coincidence of universal proportions happened during my lifetime, but I wouldn't count on it...
Cory Will
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