"Ah, yes, my son, it was a long, long time ago I first heard the guns", my father said to me as I sat on his lap, asking once again to hear that same old story about the beginning of the war. "There were a lot of us back then, more than you could count, and boy, did we give them well when it was all of us, together - why, you could hear us yelling over the fields from two miles away, they say. Bah."
A froggy would a-wooing go
ha-roomph
ha-roomph
To find a hose his dick to blow
ha-roomph
ha-roomph
He saw a great green lady frog
with long svelte legs
and golden eyes
but unfortunately
the wooing
froggie
died.
Without insurance!
"such quality programming on WMRA"
Saturday, March 21, 2015
February 1983
One of a few actual attempts at a song.
This one is unusual in that I rewrote some parts five years later (in 1988)
I think it shows a bit of promise -- but just a bit.
Now here it is Tuesday
and nothing has changed
the scene is not altered
your face looks the same
but - something seems different
the way that you say my name
and though I can't see it coming
I think it might rain.
What you said to my Friday
made me feel oh, so calm
and what you did to me Wednesday
made me feel same from harm
But "It's just an expression"
now I feel quite alarmed
by the looks that you give me
I can tell I'm disarmed
How I wish I could tell you
what I'm feeling inside.
Why the way that you loved me
made feel that I'd died
But - what was then heaven
has just turned to hell
and what I wanted to give you
you now want to sell!!
Chorus:
Go on to another,
a sister or brother
perhaps you'll be happier
than you were with me
But when you discover
you need me as a lover
don't come to me, don't run to me
I'll no longer be there.
This one is unusual in that I rewrote some parts five years later (in 1988)
I think it shows a bit of promise -- but just a bit.
Now here it is Tuesday
and nothing has changed
the scene is not altered
your face looks the same
but - something seems different
the way that you say my name
and though I can't see it coming
I think it might rain.
What you said to my Friday
made me feel oh, so calm
and what you did to me Wednesday
made me feel same from harm
But "It's just an expression"
now I feel quite alarmed
by the looks that you give me
I can tell I'm disarmed
How I wish I could tell you
what I'm feeling inside.
Why the way that you loved me
made feel that I'd died
But - what was then heaven
has just turned to hell
and what I wanted to give you
you now want to sell!!
Chorus:
Go on to another,
a sister or brother
perhaps you'll be happier
than you were with me
But when you discover
you need me as a lover
don't come to me, don't run to me
I'll no longer be there.
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Sept 1983
Some of these entries are actually poems! ;-)
I rather like this one.
JUST ANOTHER FASCINATING PERSONALITY
I RAN INTO ON THE SUBWAY
A GLIMMER IN THE EYE...
THE WAY HIS CLOTHES WERE CUT...
I COULD TELL HE WAS JUST
ANOTHER FASCINATING PERSONALITY.
JUST ANOTHER BEAUTIFUL PERSON
LYING HERE BESIDE ME
A PIERCED EAR...
A REALLY NICE STEREO....
A SLIGHT HINT OF BAD BREATH
JUST ANOTHER BEAUTIFUL PERSON
JUST ANOTHER DEEP-THINKING MIND
THAT LEFT A BOOK OF POEMS ON HIS DESK
FULL OF THOUGHTS....
FULL OF LIES....
SPECTACULARLY BAD HANDWRITING - A MARK OF
ANOTHER DEEP-THINKING MIND
JUST ANOTHER GREAT PUBLISHING ACHIEVEMENT
ANOTHER MADE-FOR-TV EPIC STORY
ANOTHER BREATHTAKING SUNSET
ANOTHER AWE-INSPIRING SET OF BREASTS
ANOTHER OVERPOWERING LOVE AFFAIR
ANOTHER UNBEARABLE TRAGEDY.
I rather like this one.
JUST ANOTHER FASCINATING PERSONALITY
I RAN INTO ON THE SUBWAY
A GLIMMER IN THE EYE...
THE WAY HIS CLOTHES WERE CUT...
I COULD TELL HE WAS JUST
ANOTHER FASCINATING PERSONALITY.
JUST ANOTHER BEAUTIFUL PERSON
LYING HERE BESIDE ME
A PIERCED EAR...
A REALLY NICE STEREO....
A SLIGHT HINT OF BAD BREATH
JUST ANOTHER BEAUTIFUL PERSON
JUST ANOTHER DEEP-THINKING MIND
THAT LEFT A BOOK OF POEMS ON HIS DESK
FULL OF THOUGHTS....
FULL OF LIES....
SPECTACULARLY BAD HANDWRITING - A MARK OF
ANOTHER DEEP-THINKING MIND
JUST ANOTHER GREAT PUBLISHING ACHIEVEMENT
ANOTHER MADE-FOR-TV EPIC STORY
ANOTHER BREATHTAKING SUNSET
ANOTHER AWE-INSPIRING SET OF BREASTS
ANOTHER OVERPOWERING LOVE AFFAIR
ANOTHER UNBEARABLE TRAGEDY.
Sunday, March 15, 2015
March 1983 - Stream of Consciousness Exercise feat. Phil Joyce
It is times like these that the Black Bitter God was made for (add lots of trouble for the sugar material). Drink six or seven and welcome to the speed-bliss connection.
I think I'll have scrambled eggs. They're all in little shells I left my wallet in the bathroom. Why was I born. Make me an offer I can refuse. Perhaps then my umbilical cord syndrome will go away. What ever happened to mythology -- I think it wweenntt out with the flapper dress. Or the fountain pen. And why is everyone either an intelligent PSYCOTIC or a Sane Idolistic Moron.
The answers to these and other stupid Zippyisms will never be delt with so fuck off. Please.
THERE ISN'T ENDLESS ANYTHING THEREISN'T ENDLESS ANYTHING SO STOP TRYING TO FUCKING MAKE EVERYTHING LAST GODDAMMIT.
I can't seem to find the door, please, uh....do you think you could show me how to get to the bathroom from here? You see, I, uh...left my ID in my other, uh...sock and I can't seem to find your picture anymore. Well, it doesn't matter anyway, because I really have to leave....there was another gathering I was at...no, I'm not really sure you could call it a party, because the people weren't having any fun..I don't think they'd mind if you came, too, though...do you know how to get there because I sure can't remember where it was or who the people we're...One of them told me all their names, and they were all called Barnabas...we could look it up in the phone book, except they don't have one here. Why does it have to smell that way in here? Can't they call the police or someone else who can make it smell different? We could all fart a lot, that might help...well, I gotta go because as I said before I was at this funeral and they'll be expecting me. Write if you get work.
I think I'll have scrambled eggs. They're all in little shells I left my wallet in the bathroom. Why was I born. Make me an offer I can refuse. Perhaps then my umbilical cord syndrome will go away. What ever happened to mythology -- I think it wweenntt out with the flapper dress. Or the fountain pen. And why is everyone either an intelligent PSYCOTIC or a Sane Idolistic Moron.
The answers to these and other stupid Zippyisms will never be delt with so fuck off. Please.
THERE ISN'T ENDLESS ANYTHING THEREISN'T ENDLESS ANYTHING SO STOP TRYING TO FUCKING MAKE EVERYTHING LAST GODDAMMIT.
I can't seem to find the door, please, uh....do you think you could show me how to get to the bathroom from here? You see, I, uh...left my ID in my other, uh...sock and I can't seem to find your picture anymore. Well, it doesn't matter anyway, because I really have to leave....there was another gathering I was at...no, I'm not really sure you could call it a party, because the people weren't having any fun..I don't think they'd mind if you came, too, though...do you know how to get there because I sure can't remember where it was or who the people we're...One of them told me all their names, and they were all called Barnabas...we could look it up in the phone book, except they don't have one here. Why does it have to smell that way in here? Can't they call the police or someone else who can make it smell different? We could all fart a lot, that might help...well, I gotta go because as I said before I was at this funeral and they'll be expecting me. Write if you get work.
March 1983 - Stream of Consciousness Exercise
Okay. You're in Hawaii, on the island of Oahu, exactly fourteen miles south of the Smith-Barrington Highway, where it crosses Hialeah River. Get out of your car. Just to your left, you will see five huge cacti, one of which is at least ten feet higher than the others. Walk to them. You will hear a voice, far off in the distance, saying "Come to me, Come to me." Ignore it, it's just Don Ho rehearsing in the crater of the volcano to your north. Okay, here you are at these cacti. Wait precisely twenty-seven minutes for me to show up, probably rom out of the taller cactus. If I'm not going to be there, you're just going to have to wait.
After you get the coke, you will be greeted by a group of people dressed like police, who will pretend to hate you for buying coke and will beat you for show, since we don't know who's with us and who isn't. What smegful cigarettes.
After you get the coke, you will be greeted by a group of people dressed like police, who will pretend to hate you for buying coke and will beat you for show, since we don't know who's with us and who isn't. What smegful cigarettes.
Friday, March 13, 2015
Names changed to protect the protagonists
March 8 1983
Commentary: I had several crushes on men growing up, these were two.
On hearing of certain exploits between S.D. and a certain spelunker......
Ah, the effects of love!!
Ah, the effects of love!!
You, so scared
Me, so .... scared?
Ha, ha, ha -
I'm sorry, it's funny!
You, so scared....
Ah, the effects of love.
You didn't know you could love
a friend, did you?
It's neat.
Who knows better
than your friend
what kind of love you want/need?
AH, THE EFFECTS OF LOVE!!
------------------------------
Oh, funny, funny, funny --
<Name>, ha, ha, ha!!
I just can't believe it -
you, calm, cool, "boring" as you said -
ha, ha, ha -
<Name> gotcha, didn't he?
College really does -
liberalize
one, doesn't it?
Ha, ha, ha.
WE DO THESE THINGS
BECAUSE WE WANT TO
OR BECAUSE OTHER PEOPLE WANT US TO
OR....
FOR SOME OTHER REASON
Commentary: I had several crushes on men growing up, these were two.
On hearing of certain exploits between S.D. and a certain spelunker......
Ah, the effects of love!!
Ah, the effects of love!!
You, so scared
Me, so .... scared?
Ha, ha, ha -
I'm sorry, it's funny!
You, so scared....
Ah, the effects of love.
You didn't know you could love
a friend, did you?
It's neat.
Who knows better
than your friend
what kind of love you want/need?
AH, THE EFFECTS OF LOVE!!
------------------------------
Oh, funny, funny, funny --
<Name>, ha, ha, ha!!
I just can't believe it -
you, calm, cool, "boring" as you said -
ha, ha, ha -
<Name> gotcha, didn't he?
College really does -
liberalize
one, doesn't it?
Ha, ha, ha.
WE DO THESE THINGS
BECAUSE WE WANT TO
OR BECAUSE OTHER PEOPLE WANT US TO
OR....
FOR SOME OTHER REASON
Thursday, March 12, 2015
The Years In Atlanta
I never lived in Atlanta!
This is probably part of the 'Years In' series I was writing in 1979-1980
=========
The Years in Atlanta How We Escaped From Atlanta And Got My Parent's House
Oh, sweet salad days. These were the really bad times. I was a waiter at "Joe's", and Kevin was a waiter at "Chez Henri". Our gross, collective income was not more than $6,000 a year, at a time when the average income in Atlanta was nearly $18,000.
We moved to Atlanta after hearing in Washington that there were jobs there. There were some nice acting positions, all of which Kevin and I auditioned for and - were rejected. Having very little money and a 1968 Plymouth Duster (which was falling apart) we didn't leave Atlanta for two years. It was simply impossible to get the money up to go anywhere.
Well, by the summer of 1998, we had managed to save close to $1,000, but that wasn't enough to get anywhere. Until! Yes, until July 19, 1998.
At 8:30 that night, Kevin and I both managed to get off early and go to a movie with money we scrounged. I don't remember what movie it was. Anyway, we left the theatre at about 10:00 and started walking home. We noticed, during our 28-block walk, an alarmingly large number of fire trucks and ambulances, and decided to see where they were going
Well, you guessed it - by the time we got there, our apartment building had burned flat to the ground. All we had now was the car and about eight dollars. So we did the only logical thing -- we left Atlanta and started heading north. We got about 200 miles before we ran out of gas, then wired to Kevin's friends in New York for some money, sold the car ($100) and flew to Washington. With the remaining money, we took a taxi to my parent's house in Hillsboro.
No answer at the door, although ere were numerous cars. The door was open, the porch light on. We went in to find 6 years of mail in the font hall. Postmarks dating back to 1992!!
Mrs. James, the postmistress, said that when my parents stopped picking up the mail, she just dumped it inside the front door. Noone had heard from my parents for six years!!!
As it ended up in 1999 I had them declared legally dead and got over $200,000 worth of insurance. 3 days later a letter came that said "Mama & Daddy" were happy I'd take advantage of the situate. I never heard from them again. I still, to this day, have no idea what happened to them.
====================
As with almost all the entries on this blog, this is unedited, typed verbatim as originally written.
This is probably part of the 'Years In' series I was writing in 1979-1980
=========
Oh, sweet salad days. These were the really bad times. I was a waiter at "Joe's", and Kevin was a waiter at "Chez Henri". Our gross, collective income was not more than $6,000 a year, at a time when the average income in Atlanta was nearly $18,000.
We moved to Atlanta after hearing in Washington that there were jobs there. There were some nice acting positions, all of which Kevin and I auditioned for and - were rejected. Having very little money and a 1968 Plymouth Duster (which was falling apart) we didn't leave Atlanta for two years. It was simply impossible to get the money up to go anywhere.
Well, by the summer of 1998, we had managed to save close to $1,000, but that wasn't enough to get anywhere. Until! Yes, until July 19, 1998.
At 8:30 that night, Kevin and I both managed to get off early and go to a movie with money we scrounged. I don't remember what movie it was. Anyway, we left the theatre at about 10:00 and started walking home. We noticed, during our 28-block walk, an alarmingly large number of fire trucks and ambulances, and decided to see where they were going
Well, you guessed it - by the time we got there, our apartment building had burned flat to the ground. All we had now was the car and about eight dollars. So we did the only logical thing -- we left Atlanta and started heading north. We got about 200 miles before we ran out of gas, then wired to Kevin's friends in New York for some money, sold the car ($100) and flew to Washington. With the remaining money, we took a taxi to my parent's house in Hillsboro.
No answer at the door, although ere were numerous cars. The door was open, the porch light on. We went in to find 6 years of mail in the font hall. Postmarks dating back to 1992!!
Mrs. James, the postmistress, said that when my parents stopped picking up the mail, she just dumped it inside the front door. Noone had heard from my parents for six years!!!
As it ended up in 1999 I had them declared legally dead and got over $200,000 worth of insurance. 3 days later a letter came that said "Mama & Daddy" were happy I'd take advantage of the situate. I never heard from them again. I still, to this day, have no idea what happened to them.
====================
As with almost all the entries on this blog, this is unedited, typed verbatim as originally written.
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