From Psych:
“So I took her back to my room? I never do that. Is it possible I have game?”
“Apparently you did last night. She was quite taken with you.”
“Really!”
“No. She’s a prostitute.”
“C’mon.”
“Think about it. You met in a hotel bar.”
“Plus her name was Ginger, Donny. Throughout history there’s only two Gingers who weren’t prostitutes. Ginger Rogers, and Ginger from Gilligan’s Island. And I still have suspicions about the latter. In fact, Gus. I’ve made my decision. She was a dirty pirate hooker.”
From Psych. Shawn and Gus run into Jules, who’s on her way to meet a guy for coffee. After Jules leaves…
“Jealous much?”
“Of who? Richard? The man looks like a cab with the doors open.”
“Please. That’s why you all ‘What do you mean? Like a date?'”
“Alright. First of all, you have to stop using the “I’m not falling for no banana in my tailpipe” voice every time you imitate a white person.”
Secondly, I’m a grown man. I’m confident. And I can admit that yes, I’m a little jealous.”
“So why don’t you finally do something about it? She doesn’t sound too keen on the guy. Besides, you’re not getting any younger you know.”
“Yes but my hair is getting thicker. And I have seeds to sow. Don’t worry, guy who uses words like keen. There’s plenty of time for me and Jules.”
i hope not. or maybe we of a better mutation need to organize our rise.
“We’re so self-important. So arrogant. Everybody’s going to save something now. Save the trees, save the bees, save the whales, save the snails. And the supreme arrogance? Save the planet! Are these people kidding? Save the planet? We don’t even know how to take care of ourselves; we haven’t learned how to care for one another. We’re gonna save the fuckin’ planet? . . . And, by the way, there’s nothing wrong with the planet in the first place. The planet is fine. The people are fucked! Compared with the people, the planet is doin’ great. It’s been here over four billion years . . . The planet isn’t goin’ anywhere, folks. We are! We’re goin’ away. Pack your shit, we’re goin’ away. And we won’t leave much of a trace. Thank God for that. Nothing left. Maybe a little Styrofoam. The planet will be here, and we’ll be gone. Another failed mutation; another closed-end biological mistake.”
~george carlin
Maybe you will always be
Just a little out of reach
i was standing in the kitchen washing fruit when i thought, “i miss home.”
and then i remembered, i don’t have a home right now.
standing at the reaches, i am a satellite.
i lied in an earlier post. what i really told her was that writers are haunted by ghosts or angels, but it’s up to the writer to decide. the difference between ghosts and demons is that ghosts are real.
i live with a general dissatisfaction with myself. it gets me to do things, to set goals, to push myself in search of change. It’s a bitch but a taskmaster. i used to fight it a lot. then i’ve learned that a better life didn’t necessarily require changing the forces inside you. sometimes it’s about balancing. i live with a general satisfaction with myself. i’ve learned that if i focus on that and keep that level high, the feeling of dissatisfaction will work with more focus towards that feeling of satisfaction.
people you don’t trust tend to be untrustworthy.
Question: How can a guy who has uttered the words, “I want to fuck you so badly,” claim I’m judging him when I say I won’t visit because I don’t want to get slept with?
Answer:
Ladies, don’t fall in love with men you meet on prison penpal sites. The first date is awkward.
dear whitney,
let me tell you what i’m learning about when fish combines with scorpion. you know how they win? they get you to believe in it for them. you find yourself working to help them win. even be kind of a cheerleader. their helplessness is endearing, but then you realize, wait…how did i get to this place? this is not my beautiful house. this is not my beautiful wife. and you realize, they fucking came in through the backdoor and got all up in your head. i finally understand what you did to me all those years we lived together. my bright ideas, indeed…
cities are alike in some ways. blue skies, gray skies, black skies. through dark and light. doesn’t matter if it’s made by man or beast, everything’s bigger than you. just the people around you happen to be the same size.
my earliest understanding came from watching an army of ants eat a peach that had fallen under a tree. it didn’t matter what was happening in the world around me. They formed a line and took away every single usable piece of that peach. you can scatter them, scare them shitless. they aren’t idiots. they would hide, wait out the threat and form their line again. one lesson that stuck with me for life–they always came back for their dead. it didn’t matter how many they lose trying to get that body. they always come back to carry them away.
whenever i think about god, i think about those ants. whatever their understanding of me was, as a force of nature, as a force of evil, as a force of random happening, they coped and pushed forward, always coming back for their dead. to an extent, i had the power to decide their fate.
to some people, every person has great power. to some universe, everyone is a god.
so if i am a god to a world so small, then where in the world is the god of me? and i tried to look for the biggest things i could find.
and some nights, looking out, i encounter something so big the sky opens up, peeled back like a dollhouse rooftop to reveal another world. And wherever it was i thought i was in that moment, i find myself in my bedroom, waking from a dream.
My friend, Sarah, sent me a link to this t-shirt and asked if this is what I look like when I’m chasing after a man.
I told her, first of all, I don’t chase. Second of all, I haven’t had that haircut since college.
Bonobo at the Showbox on 4/25. Yes.
Laudanum. For boys and girls.
In 1898, Bayer launched the best-selling drug-brand of all time, Heroin. (article)
Another 3x 9 day falling on a sunday. Plan for a good one.
This kid’s scared of me. My cousin had told me he’d called her the next day trying to get my phone number, claiming he wanted to talk to me, that I’d read him or something. Of course she didn’t give it out. Of course that’s the right move.
I was walking through the gym in Fremont one late morning a few weeks ago when this guy called me over. It was Parkson’s basketball teammate. I never remember his name. Devon maybe. I remembered he was coming off an ankle injury so I asked him how it was. Meanwhile, I notice the kid he had previously been in conversation with was this olive-skinned kid who looked kind of familiar. And he was staring at me, bug-eyed. I said hi at one point but he was frozen in that expression. I’m pretty sure it was the same kid. That reaction really didn’t seem normal.
Remember how I swerved into the path of a bike and got hit because that hooded guy was following me? As I was walking home last night, I looked up and realized that crack ho who had hugged me last week was staggering in front of me, and I nearly crossed through traffic to get to the other side of the street.
Did you ever see that scar? It was an asphalt day.
Or were you already gone?
Do you remember the rain?
All those ghosts and ghosts of steam and smoke, released.
The smell of the ocean.
The night it whispered. To some, to one.
Where you were when you knew.
When you knew you knew.
This storm was created for you.
And for entire nights, it danced.