Monday, August 27, 2007

In and Out

in: PETA shirts
out: Vick jerseys

in: sausage wallet
out: va-j-j

in: love
out: hate

in: my mom
out: your mom

in: cereal
out: sausage/chicken biscuits

in: "Cat Show"
out: "Best In Show"

in: help
out: chaos

in: deed
out: house

in: Rilo Kiley
out: New Pornograhpers

in: college football
out: baseball

in: Betsy's
out: Marq

in: "Factory Girl"
out: factory jobs / stupid girls

in: nekkid
out: naked

in: walkers
out: stalkers

in: South Austin
out: North Austin

in: goat
out: turkey

in: gratis
out: free

in: Kate Rose
out: Cambell

in: Low-rise jeans
out: Low-rise jeans

in: Lamar Blvd.
out: Research Blvd.

in: print
out: broadcast

in: thin
out: fat

in: Indians (dots)
out: Mexicans

in: Black and Red
out: Maroon and White

in: the 60s & 80s
out: the 70s & 90s

in: prudent
out: appropriate

in: Maudies
out: Chuys

in: hydrocodone
out: nyquil

in: American girls
out: Canadian girls

in: crows
out: grackels

in: sports
out: politics

in: shag
out: faux hawk

in: Comal
out: Guadalupe

in: Dodge
out: Ford

in: QB's named Colt
out: QB's named Palmer

in: dickhole
out: pee pee face

Thursday, August 23, 2007

All That Glitters Is Not Gold

Be careful of the webs you step into my child. Be even more cautious of those you spin. I see people throwing the fight every day. We owe it to ourselves to try and not be among them. Someone delivered a fast-rising aversion to countenance to my doorstep over the last three years. I trip over it daily, rushing towards my morning commute. It's sometimes a chore to keep it between the lines instead of yanking it across lanes, trying to induce chaos or rather, succumb to it.

All you need is a slow steady hand. I'm going to show up tomorrow to confirm the validity of this claim. If I could teach you anything it would be just that. To make something instantaneous that takes time and weathering is to do it an injustice. When the nervous butterflies leave, it careens wayward, so why wave them away? Let them stay as long as they please, and take residence among the consent of our youth. Jesus...

I'd caution a smooth smile and a pretty face. They won't get you everything. They'll get you out of the blocks faster, but you won't learn anything unless you open your eyes. I'd caution myself against turning into a sad-sack martyr for the self-styled fashionistas and starlets around every corner, but I seem to be a magnet for that shit. A summer-long love affair that runs out of gas can leave you starring blankly ahead and half-panicked. When I open you up and spill you on the floor we find quite a mess, don't we? Especially when we mix it with what's inside of me. It becomes an untidy house. That's why I had to wash my hands and walk away. You listen too closely to your traveling road prophets and they leave you with empty counsel.

It's easy to be deceived, but harder to be aware of it. Certain methods are unexplainable to me, and it's all a matter of perspective I suppose, but I'll take mine any day. I can't help but feel pity for the things you're missing. Life isn't ones and zeroes, and it's not black and white. There's quite a large gray area at play. It's not attainment or material. It's visceral and instinctive. Before the paint dries it shines and reflects the room. Later it collects dust. I remember anxious words and worried looks like a drunk who's rather unexpectedly hit the bottom of his wine bottle. There was no witness to it but me. I think it's the first time your weakness has seen light. To think I once heard, "I have no insecurities." To which I replied, "Oh yeah, how does that feel?" On the contrary me lady.

On paper, it should've worked.

Thursday, August 09, 2007

Numbers

My veins open up like the Hoover dam. My fingertips are frenzied and blissful. Notches on the bedpost. I've been added to a list of names in the back of a book. My book has never been published. The heavens smile down sarcastically on the premise of self-control. Woe are the lovers twisted in themselves. A surgeon couldn't separate them. They are blinded.


Thursday, August 02, 2007

Time To Take Her Home, Her Dizzy Head is Conscience-Laden

Un-fucking-believable.

ATTENTION ALL GIRLS!!!

We are currently issuing Psycho-Maniac Passes. These passes are VIP and will allow you exclusive entry into maddening dementia. For all of you with bi-polar disorder, you can register for your ID badge which will enable you to perform all of your manic-depressive wackiness with surgical precision. Be sure to show your identification at the door.

If you will approach the booth in an orderly fashion, we will get you properly outfitted and send you out into the world...













Shanna, will you marry me?