"Hoping that
The irrelevancies one thinks of
When trying to pray
Are the prayer..."
- James Dickey
What a fucked up couple of days. So my friend and soon-to-be roommate was in town, which meant mostly one thing: drinking. I think my liver gave its two-week notice at some point. Yesterday we had to get up at 10 fucking AM for an apartment showing, so there's this nice middle-aged lady showing us around four places her husband and her run, and we're still fucking drunk from the night before. The most amazing part is that we somehow managed to seem witty and charming, cause she obviously liked us.
So last night we went to this place in downtown St. Paul called the Rockin' Lobster (highly recommend). The goddamn house band played some awesome fucking covers, including "Let's Get It On" and a weirdly cool "Ice Ice Baby." Yeah, I know. It was surreal.
And now I'm sitting here, wasting time, when I should be...well, cleaning at the least. Writing. Buying groceries.
Speaking of writing, let's go to our fact o' the day: the single best-selling book of poems of the last 40-some years? The one Jewel wrote. Why do I fucking bother? Because I'm not really a poet, I'm just unemployable. And mildly hungover. Now it's time for a sandwich.
The irrelevancies one thinks of
When trying to pray
Are the prayer..."
- James Dickey
What a fucked up couple of days. So my friend and soon-to-be roommate was in town, which meant mostly one thing: drinking. I think my liver gave its two-week notice at some point. Yesterday we had to get up at 10 fucking AM for an apartment showing, so there's this nice middle-aged lady showing us around four places her husband and her run, and we're still fucking drunk from the night before. The most amazing part is that we somehow managed to seem witty and charming, cause she obviously liked us.
So last night we went to this place in downtown St. Paul called the Rockin' Lobster (highly recommend). The goddamn house band played some awesome fucking covers, including "Let's Get It On" and a weirdly cool "Ice Ice Baby." Yeah, I know. It was surreal.
And now I'm sitting here, wasting time, when I should be...well, cleaning at the least. Writing. Buying groceries.
Speaking of writing, let's go to our fact o' the day: the single best-selling book of poems of the last 40-some years? The one Jewel wrote. Why do I fucking bother? Because I'm not really a poet, I'm just unemployable. And mildly hungover. Now it's time for a sandwich.
I don't known if I posted this before: Your "insult" about ny grammar error almost made me kill myself. Some may not understand why, but I think you do.
I am drunk right now - and watching "Fight Club" surprise and SIMULTANEOUSLY creating some PDA themes based on the Moonitnites. Just another night for the Middle Children of History.
Thanks for the freindship. Now go see what's going on out on the Porch! I can't do three things at once.
[Edited on Jul 31, 2004 4:25PM]