Friday, December 31, 2010

Happy new Year!

I sit
in the comforts of a cozy prison cell
a little lit
listening to tunes on random
taking it all in...
Today I slang wings, tried to make dollars, but of course the whole thing is stacked against me. So I left with more money then I came in with and that these days is a sign of great success. I brush my pride to the side, and ride. On the way home I play some old favorites by "the Weakerthans" and watch a dazzling array of homemade firework shows litter the skyline. Florida is much more laxed on their firework laws then Illinois...they seem to be much more laxed on laws in general.

Anyways, I get home from an exhausting day of doing the damn thing, and find my dad attempting to slay dragons. It's almost like, the roles have switched, and I watch my son sink his sword into passer byers, toss fire, and I can't help but sit on my own tongue. I gather some grub, talk about the day, and soon I'm making my way down the block to some newish acquaintances I've made. The notion, get drunk, clang some drinks, do the counting thing, and re call the beauty that was 2010.

What a year!!!

I mean, the highest of highs and truly the lowest of lows
So much self respect and then on the same hand buckets of..."I could of done better"
I guess at the close of the year I find myself at a wash, not a loss, but ya know, the boss. This master narrative won't write it's self, so here i sit, clicking away, listening to great chunes, and doing what comes even more natural then dancing. Type TYPE click click!

Stolen cars!
Trips to museums!
Cuddle parties in sleeping bags!
Little Girls and Cheetahs!
Oh the dancings!
Brownie Cheesecake!
Trays of brownies!
Cops n Acid!
You can find me On THE GRILL!
Spinning something spun just for FUN!
Ninjas Vs Pirates 3yrs n counting!
Kinetic, free entries, back peddling making me with I had n attorney, Oz n his loose pours!
Cta n syncronicity!
Back to Bridges!

That is just off the top of my extremely scattered head. This past year, wow, so many friends, so many memories, so much madness, and I'm so happy I dove in head first!

However, as I sit, next to this roaring fire, taking it all in, these new people, some of which I might one day call friend, I'm reminded that I'm thousands of miles from where I'd like to be, and that feeling is crippling. Three horsemen!!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?! probably holding it down, hand swatts, hand slaps, passings of flows, all the things I love n know...and me...staring into buring embers hoping to catch a glimpse of it all. If I learned anything at the start of this year its that campfires aren't crystal balls.

So group of minors join us and the new gang of degenerates I'm hanging with quickly get them drunk. This guy, his name is Mike, he sort of looks like a down on his luck Santa, starts telling me about, "Center Block", he's wasted, been drunk since early evening, and I do my best to keep my opinions to myself. It's a funny think alcohol, it gives the tongue lithe like wings, and lets pride loose from it's sling. I scratch the dogs ass ass frequently...his name is Rocky and he loves attention. I slug back shots of rupplemints and avoid the Natty Ice....light...and know that everything will be more then alright.

SIDE NOTE: Yo! did you see Dick Van Dyke?!??!?! I feel so sad for that guy? Why was he on TV? The plastic surgery is just way to obscene and since the stroke, ya know, he's ummmm a little less then articulate. Just saying!!! n wtf?!?!?!? Backstreet boys w/ New kids on the Block??? Were they staging some sort of coo against Nysnc? Would Justin Timberlake re-unite? Is Chris Brown still beating women........My mind wanders on.

So uhhh, yeah!


...I'm terrified of you. However, I was terrified of your little brother too and got a lot done. SO! Tomorrow, comes a large bitch smack to the daily routine, and a hope to put all other resolutions to shame. It's really fucked up to me, last year, this time, I was on top of stacks of speakers with a microphone, three piece suit, vibing with 900 bodies, and this year staring at this screen. Can't say I'm sad, not really happy, but I am DRUNK!!! hahhahahahhaha

It's been a wild ride, no seatbelt, and I take the turns cackling like a true mad man!!! I dare you, to get chin checked at least once or twice this year. Make your self esteem do a few back flips and push yourself to some new limits. From what I'm told...
...We only got one more left in us...GASP!!! will you spend it.
All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day, put the pieces back together my way...
The puzzle has many pieces, I put em in place, when n where I can, and man so far the results have been amazing. Much LOVE to you and yours! 2010 was my year I hope 2011 is yours!

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Me and my stupid wrist

What some of you may not know is why I moved away from the greatest city on earth. I did it in that ole Tommy Petty vein, ya know, running down a dream...that would never come to me. So, I've been here for almost 2 months now, and I've been working as much as I can. Stashing the monies I make, paying off some things I let go to the way side my last days up in the CHI, and overall slowly losing my mind.

Then, this past monday came along, and man!!! was I not ready for it. First I wake, shower, hop on my sweet sweet wheels, peddle to this bowling alley and get ready to take a liquor certification class. I bring banana's because Moses would approve and as I settle in my chair mayhem insues. It would seem my boss is once again not prepared, he doesn't have enough books for people, and since I'm the newest I hold least priority. I get booted out of the class, leave the nanners, and find myself peddling back home. O.k. no big deal and I spend the afternoon with my Step Sister watching "Slum Dog Millionare"...(It was WRITTEN)...


I say


This nerdy stuffy voice that belongs to a douche pond says

"Hi this is an attempt to collect a debt, fuck you in the ass, break your spirit, and possibly jar you from the path you are on...all in the HOPES that you will cry at night, curl up into a little ball, and sink into an inky black shroud of sorrow...alone...nevermore...mwwwuuuahahhaa"

The jist of the call is...

I owe 7,500 dollars to Uncle Sam and he'd like his money...NOW!

How this all started was...

...A few years ago, I transfered into the USAF Guard, from the USAF Active, and thought I was about to be a dad. So, they asked me if I'd like to enlist for two extra years and get a fat bonus. And I'm all like, HECK YES!!!, I need the job stability because I'm bringing a child into this world, and like Jax Sheppard once said "I LIKE MONEY". So I sign...CHOICE...and begin my time in the guard. To put it quickly, there was some nasty shit going down in that unit, illegal things, and then to boot...well...I don't wanna get into the details but lets just say...I wasn't the father. Sooooo, I make a sly move one day at drill...I tell them I'm unhappy and want out. Plus I inform them of all the illegal things they are doing and how I don't want to make a big deal about them. I'm scooted out the back door and I'm extremely happy.

About a year later I get a call from someone saying I needed to pay back my bonus (about 3,200 dollars). I'm near broke, about to lose my apartment, and really just stressed in general when it comes to life. So I tell this to the case worker, then also add the above about the unfit working conditions, and how I know people who haven't had to pay their bonuses back in the past. He says will look into this and get back to you. My life takes a dark turn, probably the darkest ever, and I lost track of all this.

Then I get the call this past monday, a lot more money has been added to it, and there is no options for me. I have to get on a payment plan immediately and this doucher on the phone starts raping me for information. I can feel it, that sinking feeling, and I start to wonder why I'm such an ass basket. I just spent the past two years digging my way out of 4k worth of debt. Did that, moved to my fathers to stash cash and not more then 2 months in I seem to have created an even larger moutain to climb.

I start to patronize my goverment assailent (no spell check on this puter sorry(yeah its that bad)). He then starts saying things really slow and I can feel my cell phone bill increasing. I cut him short, start to well up with a rage I haven't felt since my teenage days, and I'm always overwhelmed with hopelessness. That's about the time my father walks in with a "how's your day going" My face says it all and we chat about solutions...he mostly says, pay it and be done. At least look at the bright side, you have a roof over your head, food, something something...i start to drift off and watch all those little fairytales I'd been telling myself begin to vanish. I can't dwell to long because I have to go into

I peddle to the Bdubs, hop on the floor, and everyone in the restraunt can tell internally I'm a wreck. I think everyone everywhere can usually tell when I'm having a bad day. SORRY! on the sleeve is how I beez and that's my steez. We are so slow, the thing nagging me outside of the 7 grand debt that just fell out of the sky, is that I want to watch the Bears game with my dad, and instead am standing round making no money. I think, maybe an hour at the most goes by, and they send me home. I race back for the second time...

Home these days...

...So much warmth, there is some tip toeing that I've never before been use to but I adapt to all things with lighting like quickness. I get some pep talks, piss n moan my way to kickoff, and silently plot the destruction of Brett Farve. My step mother hands me some mail and there is a package from my great friend Izzy. Recently she has likend my life to a famous british comedian whose story is one of many adversities. All day I'd been thinking about how this was probably a good sign that I need to start thinking a bit more rational. Possibly cut my plan a year short and find that solid 9 to 5 grind. Then I open up the package and see it's that comedians life story via DVD..."Believe" the eddy izzard story. I connect with my friend via phone, tell her the news, thank her for the syncronatic blessing, and she instantly starts spit firing ideas on how to take down the man. She's a rebel, an activist, and a socialite...I love her, with all my might. The game is getting ready to start, her and Mr. Chicago must scream wildly at the flickering box and my family will do the same. So we click off and I head down to watch the pre game with my pops. WHAT A GAME!!! Records broken by the Windy City Flyer and Brett Farve gets intercepted and then soon after knocked the fuck out. From there the humiliation continues and the Bears clinch their division for the first time since that year the Colts got real lucky we still had a shitty offensive coordinator...SCREW YOU RON TURNER!!!

I go to bed, with a crooked grin, I don't like laughing at others misfortunes but it's cold inside my head. So I sleep, dreams to warm the soul, and re-route the path I'd plan to know. I wake up and there is an email from a near by pizza place I've been trying to get a job at...they want me to come in for an interview on Thursday. I look at the piece of paper I'm suppose to type to this blood sucking company and decide...fuck it...I'm going to seek out some knowledge. Possibly seek legal advice but eitherway...get the cheese eating nerf herder to call me back and ask why I haven't sent the email over yet.

Tuesday was a lot of good but a project i was working on collapsed on me towards the final stages. It was suppose to be a great present for an artist buddy of mine who helped me bring dreams to reality this past year. FAIL!!! for a lot of reasons but mostly because I'm clacking away on a Toshiba from six years back. The anger of monday is welling up in me again and I take action. NO! I don't punch things, I grab headphones, my camera, and I take to the streets. DANCE MANIA!!! hahhaha! I know, lame, but what the hell else am I suppose to do. I feel like I'm losing control over everything around me and I'm not a guy who needs a lot of control to feel comfortable. However, the beginning of this week has me wincing at the thought of sunrises, and hoping I can find myself on the better side of Christmas STAT!

I come in from my night time galavanting, watch some breaking bad, and pass out into my newly found lucid world. Community colleges, never ending hand rails, and re-occuring child hood homes...I wake up and shuffle around the house. I have things to do but I'm still feeling a little less then peppy. My little sister makes me lunch...ADORABLE!!!...she even made us smoothies :D and then after a few hours of me doing the things that needed to get done I get a call from the Bdubs.
"Do you want to pick up a shift tonight?"
They are in short supply these days and am I all like "Hell to the yesUh!"
Peddle peddle, "I will posses your heart", peddle and I'm slinging wings. A few table in and this women leaves me a 50 dollar tip on a 20 dollar bill.............................................................................

I know it's not going to be easy and yes once again my master plan will take some re-structuring, but the will is there and ya know what the WHY is there as well. So I just have to relax, breath, and allow the HOW to present its self to me in time.

....Maybe I should have but maybe I shouldn't of....Bought my tickets to ULTRA this year! :D I'm getting nothing for Christmas besides that...gota take care of yourself sometimes :D


Sunday, December 12, 2010

You've gota earn that smell...

Bears Vs Patriots
Kip Vs Nikki
Eagles Vs Cowboys

Conflicts, will call it the three games of the day, and what a day it was.

I wake, from what was minimal sleep, had to close the DUBS down the night before, and finally passed out round 4 or so. Then wake, rise, shine, bagel, and some raisin bran helps me feel fine. I shower, ask my pop's for a ride into work, since will be watching the Bears game after my shift and heading to the same place (it's a blustery day outside, Florida winds are serious(not Chicago serious but I do ride a girls bike)). He obliges after some minimal him hawing but ya know all in good fun to let his son know that a car should be purchased sooner rather then later.

I get into work and instantly begin going through the motions. Before I know it I'm getting off and getting ready for kickoff. I've been amped for this game all week and even started feeling the jitters sometime around Friday. We have a gang of regulars that come into buffalo wild wings to watch the Bears and we all take our seats. White collar, from all around the U.S. and sharing a common love for the greatest football team in the NFL. Orange n Blue sucking down over processed chicken, beer, and whatever else our servers have to offer. The first two drives are something to give the heart race but after two botched third n longs by the Bears defense...well...lets say, they look like the weather, and inside I feel like the turf. My father checks out at the half and I'm there with my uncle and two other loyal fans. It's rare you see me walk away from a game (That Seattle game I left @ the 2min many red zone interception...HE JUST DOESN'T LEARN!!!).

Part way through 1/2 time one of the loyal fans says he's a Bachelor for a few more days and will be going to some Tampa strip clubs after the game.
"I'm going to win whether they do or not."
I'm feeling a lot of things inside, past conversations with you know who are still lingering, cabin fever is awaiting me if my uncle drops me off, and I'm thinking....
and Boobies HEAL ALL!!!
So I ask if he needs a wingman and that goes with out saying, but I'm saying, so it's agreed. We watch the rest of what is one of the more piss poor performances by the Monsters of the Midway, pay our tabs and head to 2001 Odyssey in Tampa, but first...More boooze! or uhhh sorry liquid courage or as I like to think of it...finger Meth. I can write but man, it kicks into ridiculous gears once I take a few swigs.

My stripper coach, looks like a good friend of mine, Eddy (cymatics), except if Eddy gave up on his current path and went a more traditional route. He's proper, navigates the car efficiently and openly shares his life with me. I like this guy, a mad character, and spews stories about the Chicago rave scene from the mid 90's. He has the same analogies as TMY about fungi and he grew up in Hammond, so I'm thinking it's a Hammond thing. I swim around through the back in the days, share some of my own stories, and we sit parked outside the joint drinking our beers.

We walk into the place, pay the cover charge, the women at the cash register says...
"Don't forget about me" and points towards a tip jar and I say.
"How could I ever forget about you, that's just silly..."
And proceed into the money hole that is a strip club. Ladies n gentlefolks this is where dreams come to die and erections are born again. I wouldn't call myself a strip club goer, I can recall all the times I've been to strip clubs, but never before have I been this prepared. The moments leading up to me making this decision to come out, lick face with the night, and document it all in my black book were dull n dreary. I'm a homebody these days and ya know with good reason ;) However, I don't know if it's the alcohol, the flashing lights, the, is that lady gaga? shit! I can't tell or all the half naked women but for a quick moment I feel alive.

I break the seal and sit next to my strip club coach, he breaks it all down to me, because I clearly look like I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.

"NO!!! you never tip on the first song, don't even make eye contact, just let them come to you, and if she gives you something you give back."

This makes a lot more sense and should help me conserve what little money I've brought with me into this place. WHERE IS THIS PLACE?!?!?! (google maps knows(as well as any Tampa strip club goer). So he continues in prepping me for what will be a night of folly, friendship, and ultimately life counseling.

"There are 2 rules that you always follow when you come to a strip club. #1 you Never, ever tip on the first song, they are wearing to much clothing, and are still feeling out the patrons. #2 is that you absolutely can't save any of them."

HAhaHAHhHAH! Oh brother, you told the wrong man, the wrong thing, in the right place at just the right time.

Her dancer name is Jamie...On the side of her body etched in thick black ink it reads, "This is just dust, another piece of the story." She see's me scribbling in my black little book and asks... "whatcha doing?" I say documenting life "she laughs with the heart of a hustler, licks her lips and moves a lot closer to me. She shows me more attention then I've had recently, but I keep the rules in mind and don't tip.
"Aren't you going to tip me?"
And I respond smugly...because I know the rules....
"I'm thinking about it"
She pouts, clicks her long black heels together and scoots her delicious behind across the stage from me. I smile and feel I've secured a will be proud.
"What the fuck was that?"
"Oh man! I'm surprised they haven't come over here and thrown you out? If a girl comes over and pays that much attention to you...pssh you have to tip, I mean she has on a lot of clothes so only a dollar but you gotta."

The strip club is a much more ethical place then I could have ever imagined but dammit I came to learn. I'm here with a veteran, out of retirement, to pass on some great stories from memories not to long ago, and a few clutch secrets that can help me make my money walk. Confused, a little discouraged, I build Jamie a money building on the stage, and she come back over in the middle of the 2nd song to collect. For those of you not in the know...the 2nd song is where all that remains are some leggings (somtimes) and a thong. There are a trail of generic stars inked into her body to go along with her wise stripper proverb and I'm wondering if this is the "C" squad...we are early. As she scoops up my little money building, I go for broke, lean in and say...
"Hey! uhhh, Hi!....My friend here has hipped me to the rules of this establishment and I just want you to know...I'm here to save you and everything is going to be alright."
A light laugh tumbles out her mouth, rolls of her nipples, and fills the club with a splash of sincerity. I get a wink, my building disappears and the next vixen takes the stage in a quick mess.

There is this crazy ritual that takes place, where the girl who leave scoops up all her dollars, and the girl coming on steps around her and cleans the two poles. A weird, near lesbian dance, that raises no pulses, but shows that there is order in this unholy tacky tourist trap.

Her name is Carela...I think that's how it's spelled, I think she is spun out on something but really i can't be to sure. I'm not about to ask but by the 3rd song I notice she only has 7 dollars out on the floor. I'm a bleeding heart, ask about me, I'm a sympathetic guy, and strippers are no different then anyone else...well...hmm...maybe a little but the buzz is right and I'm sitting on a lot of singles. So I shove one dollar in her red stockings and realize that for a stripper rejection comes in the form of 8 dollars after 3 full songs and being fully nude in a room full of strangers.

The next one struts out wearing a lot of baby blue lace, my coach is excited for this one, I have to admit she's high quality from what we've been seeing and I shuffle about some bills. I'm noticing some stripper tactics...
They like to take your hat (if your wearing one) shift it back and rub your face into those beautiful hill tops of flesh. So I fold up an up n coming tip, tuff that bitch in my kanglo n glow...i'm I write this, trying to maintain my litness but let's be honest...not nearly as I was when I was, the rush of the real thing intensifies the entire spectacle and it's why we do the things we do...tangent sorry...So she comes in, removes her top, a petite girl, now with her breast exposed, fake breast, and way out of proportion...not digging it, starting looking past her, the cowboys have just tied the eagles and we've got a real nice Sunday night game on our hands...
(i just realized as I've been typing for a little over n hour that my track selection has been all wrong. I've been jamming to some new chunes I just snagged, some Nero, Danny Byrd, old Glitch Mob...etc. After a swig of vodka I'm struck by lighting and swtich to a Youtube playlist of AC/DC.....The story shall write its self from here on out...(no strippers danced to AC/DC during the evenings adventures :( Wtf! still though....)
...So yeah, ya know how you when you don't pay attention to something in life it ends up showing up on your doorstep. Welp, umm, that goes doubley truthful for strippers! I'm not paying her any mind and she comes a crawling across the bar top with only me in mind. Maybe it's the moleskin, or possibly these beautiful eyes my parents blessed me with, or just maybe the fact that I CAN'T care less about this act. In fact I'm wondering if I give her a 5 (haven't seen one come out at all so far(this leads me to believe they are a hot item)) if she'll but those disproportionate globes back under the lovely lace and do the last song like that...instead the strippers keen senses peak and she slithers over with a...
"whatcha writing?"
With a smile, a pause of the pen, and a close of the book I spit about...
She says something like "neat" or "great" or some other stripper slang that I'm unable to decode and spread eagles blocking my view of the eagles. She pulls my head in to give me the trade mark titty hug, pulls my hat back, finds, the surprise I didn't mean for her, and goes...
"Oh for me..."
Were both a little more then surprised but my reflexes are just a hair bit faster then hers...
"I tell you what, I want to give this to my friend over here, he just adores you, and can't wait to meet you."
I pass the buck, feeling like Steve Nash, strip club assists who would of thunk. I mean I know I'm a rookie but I consider myself a go getter, a mover, a shaker if you will, and hell I might as well write a few plays of my own...see if coach approves. I go back to scribbling in my book, notes, that I'm now having to weed through, and the last bit of Bella's 3rd song is spent with my fantastic coach. He gives her my dollar and then a portion of his 4 american dollars and we both laugh a bit as she vanishes off the stage and behind that velvet curtain.
"So what did you think of my pass?"
"Well, good idea, heads up, but ya know she doesn't wanna double dip...She already did some work for you, and then your just passing the buck. So she's chasing that dollar and having to do more...I gave her a little more."
"I felt like Steve Nash..."
There is a look on his face, like, man, this guy is definitely getting ahead of himself...
I must say, as I watch my coach use his stack of singles, I come to realize, he really gets his monies worth. He gets way more then me and truly is a master of his craft. I take notes out the corner of my eye sockets because I don't think staring is only excites them more!
A few more dancers come out, I'm reading latin off one girls back, choking on some nickleback over the speakers, laughing at this 50 something in pastel flannel (oh yeah it exists) pissing away his pension on women who could care less, and coming to grips with every tip I give I'm taking baby steps away from the man I hope to be come October...
1/2 Time...
As we go to leave, I believe some of the "A" list is arriving and I walk right into one of them. Her name is Kip and i can already feel my money wanting to migrate into her bank account. What the fuck is that? Stripper money magnet? We swap a smile and as I step out the door I tell her...
"I'll be back and I hope I can give you all my money..." That sort of honesty drives them wild...I think.
Coach n I head down the street, I grab a small thing of Jameson, and a budlight for my friend. Stripclubs in Tampa are magical...fully nude, I'm told you can get anything you want in the VIP lounge, if your pockets are deep enough, but you can't drink in the club. Well you can drink, a 6 dollar can of coke or maybe an 8 dollar can of redbull (at least a one drink minimum(15 turns into at least 21...)) So we fuck the system, swap more stories, and sip the suds of our choosing in the comfy confines of his car. Keep in mind, up until this night, I've never really known anything about my coach, other than, he loves the bears, and always seems like a friendly guy on those sundays.
We share so much in common, if only from our pasts, my present, well past, but ya know present. I share some of the new sounds of the underground and he gives me some great ideas on tunes to possibly give on a later date. Then he plays some G-love and we swap shots from my bottle of Jamie... we re group... and head back into the club...
The carpet, is a hot swirling mess, of grey, black, and silver...there is no real pattern and I think at some point the patrons were allowed to smoke in there. The ceilings are low and where we once sat is open n then some. We get a better view and I dig the whole scene once again...
There are a group of "bros" sitting across from me ove yonder the stage. All von dutched out and one of them is wearing a buffalo, "wing" crown, and I chuckle...full circle, if only for a moment.
Kip and I lock eyes from across the various silver chairs, bar tables, and strobing halogens. I mouth out "Olive juice" she mininterprets and signals for me to come over. I sit down next to her and waste no time, I mean why would I, GORGEOUS, and ya know all the tangiables out for auction.
"Would you like to go on a date with me?"
"I'm sorry I'm not much into exsposure."
This confuses I start telling her the rules I've learned and this immediately sends panic up her pretty posture.
"no no no, if you don't tip her the first song she won't do a good job. And you should never try to save anyone...We're all figuring it out and people need to do that on there own."
Whoa! No saving needed here and I tell her I want to see her dance before I commit to a private dance. That's me, always leaving my options open, and needing that undeniable proof. She tells me I'm going to be waiting a long while and I quickly return with a...Your definitely worth the wait. Ping pong with strippers is great especially when words are the ball.
As winter takes the stage, my coach informs me that...
"You need to wake up in the morning feeling like you did something wrong & u can write that in your pad." So I do and I take to the rules, completely ignoring the dancer...i mean stripper...for the first song, collecting some notes from our outdoor convo, and peaking at the eagles hard at work on the other side of the club. That Mr. Vick, so slippery, much like the pole, much like the singles I unfold, and the story that's being told...
I dont' recall her name, I thought I did but clearly it's a misprint, but she's beautiful. Natural, curvey, ebony, and some of the most fantastic pole skills through out the night. I'm watching, drifting off, riding a great whiskey buzz, she twirls about, upside down, right side up, and all the while G-string in's only the 2nd song. Somewhere in between the double helix heel slide, lil wayne making the shitty sound system pop, and a quick conversation with a "Roadhouse" extra I drift off into my own world. I start, Tutting (click, learn, raise the bar...I dare you) and all of a sudden the DJ starts calling me out...
"Whoa there, having a good time, what are you trying to be...some kind of mime..."
Yuck yucka yuck yuck all through out the club, I lock eyes with him and mouth....I AM A FUCKING MIME...OFF DUTY!!!
"HAhahHAHA, well then" are the last things the club here's...
I don't tip the wonderful dancer instead I march over to the booth and begin doing some investigating. His name is Chris, he's running serato, and eating a delicious Jimmy Johns sub. He asks about my story and I ask how do I get his job. He takes offence, I back track, and say...
"ya know but at another establishment?..."
"Well, do u know how to DJ?"
I slip back into a quick flash, some of my more favorite moments as a DJ, and I come back with a response...
He smiles and says..."Well that's a start." Munch munch on his turkey tom no onions (I can smell them from a mile away and his sammich is lacking them), cues the next pole pleasing piece and completely ignores all the rest of what I would have liked to say. I'm feeling extra "money" and walk my ways back to my seat. However, before leaving, I leave an entire days worth of bad eating in his area...SO MUCH ASS GAS!!!! Talking about chilli, nasty chicken, french fries, various beers, and of course my general disgust for his profession. Just floating, thick, and ready for all those within a 10ft blasting zone.
I do my pee pee dance in the mens room and take my front row seat as Nikki comes out onto the stage. HOLY HELL!!! gun tattoos along side her firm breasts, amazing behind, platinum blonde hair, and all n all looking like my X-wife if she'd a just taken that last step. My friend use to always say she was one step away from the pole but she use to always say she had to much self respect to not go that route. However not enough self respect to remain faithful to her husband, or to not spit well liquor into tourists mouths, or ya know not be a lying cunt....Whoops! I think that might be the liquour talking...sorry...i digress.
She is up there...I mean...Her n Kip are by far the best this heartbreak hoeTell has to offer. I keep the rules in mind, ignore, scribble and of course she takes the bait. Her dance, with each swing of those perfectly preportioned hips, I find myself entranced, and I'm no match.
"What are you doing?"
I close the book, smile, and say...."Writing"
"What? rhymes?"
"nopers, LIFE!"
and quickly she spins about to her pole and says.
"well you better write, fast, and quick. Because it's much to big for you to write it all"
She slides up and down that pole and for the first time in the night I'm really feeling it...I really!!!
I WANT TO SAVE THEM ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Actually a long standing plan of mine has been to create a loyal army of strippers. How I always picture it going down is as followed...
I strike it big, either ya know with my sweet sweet dance moves, hit them powerball numbers, cook up the best meth the world has ever had, or just find that random billion dollar brief case. From there, I head to every major city in America (possibly other countries too but ya know me I'm a patriot) go to the best strip club that city has to offer and find there money maker. The girl who just brings em in, turns em out, and banks. Ask her..."What do you want to do more then anything on this earth?" And then provide her with the means to do so...
Ne time I ever set foot in that city, BAM! awesome date night...yes yes...I'm aware I'm delusional but please just let me dream.
She takes a few of my dollars, more so then any other previous, even taps my under the hat stash, wich you guessed it means my nose goes for an amazing back and forth ride...I snarl, she giggles, and I go back to the scribbles. She looks down at me and smiles...I ask...
"have you ever seen someone do this?"
and the most sincere smile a stripper can sustain slips out...honesty...validation...and it only cost me like 5 bucks. Her songs finish and I watch her walk about scooping up her dollars, she keeps a close eye on me, and I think I might just have to get a private dance.
My coach leans in...
"Man, that book of yours is amazing!!!! They all are interested and wanting to know."
And i respond with a few variations of "i know right's"
However only moments after that, some midget stripper, well like 5'2 (in heels dude(dudette?)) comes up to my coach and tells him the book is creeping all the girls out. So he leans in and tells me to stop...I decide I have enough notes to pretty much rant my way into sunrise and tuck her away. Plus at this point my head is spinning...
GodSmack is blaring and out loud I say..."Man, it would be great to see all this movement to at least some shitty hip hop" and the next song starts a playlist of chunes I can at least describe as semi-bareable...I mean...given the location. So, my fingers get to moving, at first below the bar, but then I'm like fuck it, in rome, wearing a plaid kilt, might as well show em whats underneath.
Oh man!!! the looks are priceless, this coming from a guy who normally kicks it on street corners leaving them slack jawed. I get a few "Should we tip him's?" but the best is the bartender (red bull opener/pop can bringer)...
"What are you doing there?"
"It's called "Digits" and it's a dance"
"Oh, well, you should get a fushigee (i don't care to know how to spell that(or a lot of other words(sorry izzy)))."
Her n I go back n forth about how I won't be buying one of those. She smiles and goes back to stabbing peoples eyes out with 6 dollar cans of coke but I know what I must do before I leave.
The coach is looking a bit anxious, he wants to know if I'm ready to bounce, and I'm still waiting for Kip to come on stage n do her thing. I want to stack her against the competition and then get a lap dance from the winner. SOMEWHERE TODAY THERE HAS TO BE WINNER and dammit it might as well be my black slacks. That's when i see KIP cheating on me for the fifth time, leading some 40 something back into the VIP area, and I'm is an oppurtunity to save 25bucks. My coach n I gather our effects and head towards the exit. I have two dollars stashed, one behind my ear (rolled up like a cig), and the other in my new favorite place to hide dollars. I stumble up to the blonde bombshell that is Nikki and say...
"these were for you, I think, but ya know when the music was just right. However, my ride is leaving and there is just something about you that makes me want to give these dollars to their rightful owner. She smiles, I get a HUG, I think, can I save her?, and just settle with that strip club scent she rubs into my clothing. As I exit I remember to give the bartender the website to a highly motivated, involved, diverse, and ever growing online community of finger dancers :P I think she just might check it out...who knows...I told her if she does i'll buy one of those stupid infomercial balls.
The two, my coach n I, stroll out into the florida night, and I have a hard time understanding it's the middle of December. I brag about the smell...That smell...Of baby powder, broken promises, credit card over drafts, fathers that should have just taken the time, and what the hell ever they spray on them poles. He says...
"You gota earn that smell!"
and I laugh so loud that I feel a bit light headed. We hop in the whip and cruise back towards my new residence. I'm told of a great time he once had...Soldier Field, The rolling stones, smoking weed with his father, and learing that some people love to share. I'm glad I took a chance and I'm extremely glad I ended up being a good wingman. Seems like we achieved just the right amount of fun and actually spent way less then anticipated.
On the way back, I share a bit more about my life, and where I hope to see it go. He holds back but honesty eventually dumps out past his lips. Caution comes crashing into our free fall of an evening and all with a variety of apologies. I tell him not to worry and actually I thank him for his concern. He's right you know...
...These days, the days I trail blaze with eyes on a prize only I seem to understand, aren't for the faint hearted. I don't expect many to understand and I hope if I come up short the "I told you so's" will be short n sweet. What you are witnessing is a phoenix, becoming self aware and doing all it can before that majestic moment befalls him. The eagles ended up squeeking it out by three, Nikki beat Kip out by two, and well the Bears they will always be number one. It's four in the morning, my liquor is all gone, but I'm still having fun!!!
....wonder how I'll feel in the morning?
Thanks for reading, hope you took some breaks, most importantly hope you took some breaks, and mostly importantly....RESPECT THE RULES!!! you'll get your dollars worth and come to understand the delicate balance that is a stripclub.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Pull up a stool

There are some things flickering on the screens, mostly college sports, and I'm spinning round this glass of hope. The week has been a fast fading mystery, work trudges along, and life does a lot of the same. They all come sit at my bar though...

On the regular, I chat with fantastical drunken fanatics of all types, and I do my best to keep my opinions to myself. Really, that is like 90% of the job, and over the years for my landlords sake I've gotten good at it. They come in, one by one, pull up a stool, and proceed to dump. The stories run a crazy range...

Mike, he works next store at the grocery store, stocking food, getting customers what they need, and nursing a broken heart. His X-wife takes near half his check for the kids he rarely gets to see and some crazy thing called alimony. He's a good man and the boulder he drags in here on the regular makes me grateful I cut that last one loose.

Let's take Richard for example...
Tips well enough, orders Jack n Cokes, NO FRUIT..."what the fuck man, if I wanted healthy shit I'd be hanging out at some ritzy lounge, where they charge four bucks for a bottle of mineral water, and the women all cost just enough." So yeah, I take some licks from time to time from him but I understand that it's because life pushes down on him really hard. As long as those tips stay above 15% we should have no problems and my pours will continue to be generous.

Then of course there is Albert...
Everyday is the same...
Shows up way before happy hour and is here much to long after. Sure, I make my electric bill off of him in two weeks time alone but you just have to feel a little something for someone drinking their life away in this manner. He tells me about a time he stabbed a guy in the eye with his thumb during a bar fight. This was back in Boston, he spits a little when he talks, but I'm use to wiping things off the bar. He preaches to me about his kids that love him, how he's living the dream, and then the next day rolls around. Still day dreaming, still sinking dollars into my bucket, and still watching those college kids like maybe somewhere inside them lyes a better version of what he could have hoped to be.

We have Tom, various girls every night, and he always picks up the tab. He let's them order whatever they want, I bring them shots, and he picks up the whole tab. To bad he doesn't know how to tip! When I think of how many money shots I've probably afforded that guy...well lets just say I silently hope some sort of sickness befalls his member sooner rather then later.

You have your regulars that just come to watch the games, the fights, the scrolling spatterings of apathy, and of course my zen like guidance. We laugh and generally through out the night you can hear a common cry of fuck the status quo. Many HOORAYS!!! spirits guiding spirits into that fabled land of pretend that makes sense for a few hours. Shit! What do we know...bills...DUI's...Families saturated in divorce and hardship...economic down turns...and a need to aspire to be something spectacular before our eyelids open no more. Occasionally someone slangs something "cash" like on the jukebox and everyone sings along.

Then again...somenights a stranger comes walking in. It always seems to be on those quite nights. Alone, watching the clock, grazing over the newest crossword puzzle, and hoping 1 A.M. will come sooner rather then later. To be honest, a stranger like this, well, in all my years of pouring poison, I don't know I've ever come across one quite so twisted, and I don't wish to ever share a conversation with the likes of this devil ever again...

but I did...
and you know what they say about dancing with the devil....right?

......Dance with him and you might just end up losing more of yourself then you wagered.

"I'll take a Jameson, double, and neat."

He pulls up that oak stool with a easy and like so many before lets his conscious rest along that bar top. Heavy, I can feel it, but I just can't yet understand why...So I pour his drink and say.

"Tall order sir, hard day out in them killing fields?" Here is me, speaking as if I'm in the presence of the usual...

"I just shot a man..."
It echoes off the walls and comes back to me with much speculation.
"I did it because in my gut I knew it was the right thing to do and because if I didn't do it others would suffer."

Pouring his potion reality comes in with each inch of gold that hits that rocks glass and I'm concerned for the next moments of this jigsaw puzzle called life.


"Like, I loaded a weapon, barged into his den, and left a heavy smell of gunpowder in the air."
He takes a large gulp from his freshly poured drink
"BANG!!! BANG!!! BANG!!!"
setting his drink down at the last bang and looking up at me with a hearty smile.
"I did it for you ya know..."

At a loss for words for the first time in what feels like forever, I stumble with my response, and he quickly says...

"You've loved right? I mean, you look about at least 30 something, I've got to think some sort of warm splintering feeling has taken apart your soul and made you a better man for it? Ya know LOVE! that things you'd do most anything for?"

It takes me a second to realize this is a question and I say...

"Yes sir, actually, very much in love, got a wife, she's due in a few months time here........gona be a spring baby. Thinking about naming him Matt after my father."

"Ah, that's good...."
Another large gulp, taking his glass down to about 1/4, and he says
"ya see...about two months ago, I had something like that. My own little plot of heaven in this madness known as life. I'm in my 50's understand, I've seen a lot of things, experienced two decades worth more then you, and become all to comfortable with the forgotten promises of my younger years. Still though, about a few years back I met her. Eyes just spewing with hope, hair golden, long, streaming, and screaming with strands of comfort. Heaven! I tell no lies, I was a mad man, lost, pissing away my nights in places like this, and then one day she came to be."

He gulps the last of his drink, pushes it towards me, and with out hesitation I pour another. I don't dare breath...I let him finish what has been a long time in the making and hope that he finds me more friend then foe.

"We made plans you know, places to see, things to be...and then one night...he came."

I see a hard demeanor go soft for only a few seconds, a few salted drops catch on his whiskers, and he shrugs this off. Turning to his audience of one his continues...

"I work late, I'm not a jealous man, so I let my flower spread her pollen about this great world because, ya know, it seems like the world could use more happiness...."

I think, where are the regulars? Where are the loyal fans of failed freethinking? Why have I been foresaken to be murdered by a madman at this barely above minimum wage bar? My own undoing I guess, all those glasses I've poured, never telling them to stop, and now death takes the form of an old mystic with tales of retribution.

I guess he can tell he doesn't have my attention...fully, and says...

"HEY! are you listening or aren't you?"

meekly I squeek
"yes sir, just a bit nervous that's all..."

A hearty laugh tumbles out of his gullet and he dumps about.

"Then drink up!!! Worry not friend, your just the last friendly face I'll see for many years, and I have no one else to bare my soul too. Ya know, I thought that's what bartenders were for, soul bearing...
Hell, I use to sit for hours, talk to my bartender about the things I could have done, the things I should have done, and could have been...
All of that was before her..."

Once again a few soft drops of moisture and then....CRASH!!!
What was left of his whiskey goes against the wall and I immediately pour myself a shot.
"better grab me one of them too"

We both meet eyes, heaven, hell, beside one another, two men, a swig, and the burn is so smooth I almost forget my current dilemma.

"He saw her out, with her friends, she was wearing something so appealing, so attractive, intoxicating, and the weaker man that he was made plans for something in sincere."

My phone vibrates, singing loudly, "IF YOU WANT BLOOD!!! YOU GOT IT!!!" (I love AC/DC)

He laughs....
"Go ahead, answer it...I won't be here much longer."

"Hello, uhhhh, yeah, not a good time...oh!....well umm yeah dealing with something much bigger at the moment. What?!?!? No dude, fuck you! yeah I mean, well........Wait wait wait a minute. You tell that mother fucker I'll be there and with bells on. Seriously though...not a good time"
I hang up, smile something awkward at what to me starts looking more and more like the grim reaper.

not skipping a fucking beat, that scavenger of time, hopped right back onto whatever line he was grinding.

"He followed her home and once he realized she was alone...well...He did the things that drive a man like me over that line he once hoped to never see again. I won't bother you with the details that made the stomachs of all the reporting sheriffs weak, or how I had to make her funeral arrangements. All I need from you this evening is absolution. I shot him, dead to rights, before the long twisted arm of what we call the law could make a grand spectacle of him. I found my vengeance in a little double wide and I didn't think twice about it. The only thing I thought about was those that would suffer if I didn't and those that suffered because I hadn't done it sooner. I'd never thought of myself as a killer...ever...I've busted more then a few heads in my day, taken a thrashing, and picked myself up. However, as soon as I caught word of who it was, and put the pieces together...All hesitation went way word and I found myself thriving off instincts."

He clears his throat, motions for a new rocks glass, and I abide....

"Absolution...that's all I'm looking for stranger and I guess maybe a thank you."

I collect feels like forever but I'm sure it's just seconds. I think about how to best structure the words and half way through that process personality overtakes the thinking machine.

"RUN!!! But know you did the right thing, know that sometimes, evil must be punished by the firmest hand possible, and that a man must do what he hopes to be right. Find refuge, in those that share a similar oder to yours, but know that you did what was right. If this man did what you think he did, then take comfort in knowing that the cycle stops with you. I won't personally thank you, because I don't know that I have the stones it takes to end a life, but let me extend my sincere gratitude for the safe passage of my son. I don't know that they would have crossed paths but the world is an increasingly small place and I'd rather not leave matters like that to fate."

Weak, shaken, and just drained, my hands shake and he reaches next to me. I flinch a little as he grabs a grip of tooth picks and smiles.
"Young man, I do believe you just may have saved my soul, and if I didn't know better few others might find it worth saving."
He pushes that slender piece of wood into his mouth and twirls it round to the other side fast. With a swift motion he lays cold hard steel across my bar, and my gut falls out into my shoes.
"this is for you...or for them...tell them what you like. I'll be long gone by the time the sun catches the one I loved most."

He walks calmly out the way he came and I'm left shook.....

So they come in from time to time...

"HEY!!! what the fuck, can you put the game on?!!?!"

I always ask what game, with clenched nerves, and a smooth calm that you only find in prisoners of war. What they don't know if they've usually snapped me out of the most terrifying moment of my life. Blood on my hands? Blood on all our hands...pssh! So accountable for the actions of others but for one night, I just might have been an accomplice to something so self righteous and pure...

...Matthew is two now and the best parts of my days are when I get to hold him. Part of me continually thanks that crazy old man. This existence... Wild & uncharted... warriors...where do they roam and where does he roam now. On the quite nights, those nights I feed the jukebox alone, I always wonder if he'll come back for his steel. I wonder and with anticipation I hope to spread this real.

Friday, December 3, 2010

On The Road prt 2

I push past Indy with ease and some kind words from Alan Watts. If you aren't in the know, please allow me to hip you to one of the most enlightening men I've ever heard speak, and if you care to check him out the world will become a much better place...guaranteed!

I picked a specific lecture series on the ego...
The last few months I was around in Chicago I was very much a man destroyed by his own ego. Scared to go out into the night air for a lot of reasons but mostly that I wouldn't be able to sit on my own two fucking lips. I see things in the world I don't like, I want to change them, and I feel I have the will to change them. At the cost of others feelings, my own well being, and the natural order of things. Then there are the things I see that I like, that I can't have, and I begin to shift pieces around to see just how close I can get to them. The ego is a powerful construct of the mind and for some it can end up piloting the whole ship. The last few months I felt swallowed up by mine and extremely scared of what might come up and out. So I cruise and listen to this older gentlemen tell me all the things I should have already known. All the madness and wisdom that I think most of us could learn to digest. Into the thick black night passing into Kentucky.

I get anxious and find myself longing for human's about 3 in the I ring what I hope to be one of my new friends down in Florida. His name is Kyle, he goes by NEWT, and you can tell I've woken him up. BLAH BLAH BLAH!!! HAHAHHHAhahhA!!! This maniac, cruising at extremely high speeds, begins asking an insane amount of questions rapid fire, and all to an unsuspecting person. Kyle is a great sport, we get to know one another, hobbies, hopes, and all the tiny innumerable s that I soon forget. I tend to learn and re-learn people, I don't know if it's a subconscious hope to breed consistency or just the early stages of me being a burn out. We put some loose plans together to meet up soonish and get down with some liquids. He tells me about his plaid sunglasses and I about swirve off the road causing what I'm sure would have been the most excitement most of these farmers have seen in months. We burn through a nice hour long talk and I resume my listening to VERY VERY LOUD MUSIC.

I have a few tracks cued up for sunrise and as she starts to shimmy up the coast line I get tingles of anticipation through my knuckles. Yep! still drilling, still thinking that this is all really finally happening...
to save as much money as humanly possible...
a)Largest group of monies will be thrown into CD's to accumulate interest while I head out for (b). After I return from (b) withdraw said monies and buy myself a nice plot of city space in Chicago. Invite artists that I've known over the years that are serious, dedicated, and have a death grip on their crafts to come live with me to create.
b)Smaller group of monies will be my rocket fuel to travel to places I've only seen through the rapid fluttering of my eyelids. Main destination being "Just Debut" in France. I want to use that event, the events surrounding it, to properly spread the liquids, and get my name out into the world. I also hope to travel, write many pages, meet many lovely faces, crash on foreign couches, and choke out this wanderlust that eats away at my soul.

That's the plan and as the sun pokes her head out illuminating the mountain sides I let my sunrise playlist rock out. The rich colors...Oh how they dazzle these already frazzled senses. Tree tops splashed with all the fantastic colors I hold dearest. I've enjoyed many a sunrise this past year, one in particular, Sinner man leaked out from an iPhone, the horsemen still grinning from an amazing adventure, and I was daydreaming something of my present visuals. This time it's London Electricity, emancipator, and Alkaline Trio...I'm alone...but ya know...only physically. The road takes me up and down, winding round, beauty at every turn, and I'm so happy to be traveling through this great country during Fall. I love fall...

To Me (it's important to say that)
Life is a lot about toiling away at the things that move you most. It can be hard to find those things, once you do, it's important to shift gears and run that engine till the cylinders go POP!!! So, life is cycles, it is seasons, and TO ME each one of those seasons has an extremely important function to completing a years work.

Winter-This is when the less daring mammals hibernate, plan for the spring, and enjoy the simpler things in life; I however, hit the pavement twice as hard, so I can gain ground on those that either got a head start in life via birth place, better genetic make up, or in that rare case are just much better at the game then yours truly. I also enjoy sipping whiskey and shoveling driveways to Slipknot...maybe yours...who knows. It's important to note, I feel winter is a lot about reflection, looking at the past year and taking in what came to be, could have been, should have been, and finding the happiness in it all. The comfort to become reborn as we approach...

Spring-Fresh, NEW, hope, and the smell of things to come. Plans are in motion, others maybe come to your aid, but whatever the objectives of that year are should be firmly in place. I always begin to notice the new attachments in my life and start to decide whether these belong or not. This is my born season and always find myself doing way to much. :D

Summer-HOT HOT HOT!!! Full swing, eye on the prize, and working with a feverish pace. You can find me like eggs on blacktop, topnotch, and probably a bit to much so. This is where you start to see what will be, a lot of times it can be hard to face that reality, but it's important to. It's important to know where you stand with your objectives and let delusion cloud you no more. Sure take on a few more side projects but don't think it's going to complete whatever your pushing towards. Because ultimately...

Fall comes...If you've never seen the movie "The Fall"[<---click it come on :)] I definitely suggest you check it out. Hell I'll mail it to you, or forward you a torrent, or's a good one! So, umm, yeah...Fall comes. What will be will ultimately be and we give into the inevitable feeling. The changing of colors, the culmination of the summers labors, and finally the results.

This past year...WoW...I think about it all as the miles add up

Pit stop...hop out dump 65 dollars worth of gas into my panther like automobile. While thats filling I head into the Mcdonalds, haven't had something from here since TMY n I were in Wisco, and I know why :D Grab something to go, it's hot it's got cheese, and It doesn't take to much time off the clock. That clock, the tick tick ticking!!! I'm doing the math and it doesn't look good. So I put the pump back hop into my beast, without a goodbye or a peace, I'm back out there ripping up pavement.

So yeah this past year, has been one of the most amazing in my life, for a lot of good reasons, and some bad ones too. All in all, I believe I was telling one of my good friends, I've done more living in this past two years then I can even comprehend. All foreshadowing aside, I begin to comprehend a lot of it as I come into Georgia...I bump a little LuDa! "we on that grind...all the time...Nothing BUt GEORGIA!!" yeah, sorry, whatever... So many great memories, however, the stinging bite of recent memories flood my wispy eyes and that just means I need to turn the music louder.

I start to pass Atlanta which means I'm getting real close to my destination. Up until this point I've been cruising, pissing in plastic vitamin water bottles, one hand on the wheel other on the bottle, steady, STEADY, watch the levels, put the cap on, hide safely and not stopping!...NOT STOPPING! Well expect this one stop, a relapse if you will, an extreme guilty pleasure, dark and brooding. Other then that though, cruising, and feeling mighty peppy (thanks Rachel n TMY) but as I pass Atlanta I start to doze off. I do some calculations and think I can take an hour nap n still make it to my fathers in time.

I pull off and over, I pass out in record time, CRAZY DREAMS smash into my sleep space and I jump to life. I grab the wheel and freak out!!! WTF!!! did I oversleep how long have I been out 1/2 n hour...fuck it...can't risk it. This rental is costing me a large sum of money per day and I hop back on that interstate...slam a five hour energy...push my PA to it's limits and sail towards a world of unknown.

I cross into Florida and much to my good fortune I end up drifting behind a guy doing 100+. The perfect Gofer...Teee Heee all the way home! I pass by Gainesville...birth place of Tom Petty and for some reason I've always pictured myself retiring if some day I would end up having a career that would allow me to retire. :D So I cruise along and I begin to realize, I'm going to make it on time, and with maybe an hour to spare. Happy dance ensues and I forget that I'm teetering on two days with little to know sleep.

I come into the Tampa Bay area, hop on the interstate that leads me to my new house, and BAM! I'm greeted by a large confederate flag. So I salute the shit out of that shit and chuckle something truthful..."Oh the SOUTH, how I've missed you so, and I can't wait to see what we do together this time." A few more songs later and I'm pulling into my fathers lovely drive way. DELIRIOUS!!! Slightly ahead of schedule and extremely hungry.

I come into the house and I'm greeted with a great big hug. The two, that is to say, the few, scrawny, knotty knees and beautiful eyes of blue. Take to unloading this sleek SUV and getting what little remains of my worldly possesions into my new confides. He then alerts me to a delicious stew that has been cooked. I salivate as soon as he begins forming the words that would inevitably lead me into the kitchen. OH MY GOODNESS!!! My stepmomz is the bestest! I woof it down, hop into my black chariot and follow the spitting image of what I'm sure I'll one day grow to be. Back past that damn confederate flag, over bridges, under some others, and all the while I'm think WHOA! I'm a long home from my lovely windy...

I get the car to the rental company with 25 minutes to spare, full tank of gas, and no additional charges. Jason Statham ain't got shit on ME!

Welcome Home...I come into my room...I set down a few last things...I look at the wall over my bed and what is hanging there.
O.k. world, universe, infinite cosmos, I'm listening, possibly maybe, speak clearly this time and will get through this with best intentions in tact.

Much love and respect with all those that helped me before my departure. The sammichs made by Nelly. Packing, cleaning help, from Daisy, Casey, and Chris. The weird ramblings shared by Kai and I days before my departure. TMY for scooping them mirrors and giving them a good home. Man...ALL YOU BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE that I long to hug! I miss you more then I can even begin to convey. Thank you so much for believing in me and helping me bring to life a little slice of heaven. I re-heat it daily, welp, somedays I just take a slice out the fridge and eat that shit cold...some might say it's better that way.