Wednesday, September 28, 2016

DAILY CONFESSIONS (And please feel free to join in on the fun, folks!) I once got caught by a roommate somewhere while I was walking around the apartment, saying, "Pussy! Pussy!... Pussy! Pussy! Pussy!" Over and over again. We nearly bumped into each other in the hallway. I thought I was all alone but he had been in the bathroom. "What are you DOING?" he asked. "I don't know," I said. And I didn't. I STILL don't know why I do that whenever I do it, whenever that sort of madness takes over me. Wait, that's right! It was Miami. I was in Miami.
DAILY CONFESSIONS I know everyone's tired of hearing about my little hernia operation from a while back, but I gotta say, it was truly the single most enjoyable event that has happened to me in my entire life. It was more relaxing than my private suit in that posh hotel in the mountains of Venezuela. I probably ordered $500 worth of room service my day off. I spotted monkeys and colorful birds in the trees while I sipped wine in my hot tub on my private deck. It was better than dining with that sweet family on their ancient little farm in the rocky, rolling hills of Italy. I swear, that little boy looked EXACTLY like Gordy does now. But I guess it did get pretty uncomfortable when the man's buck toothed wife started rubbing my thigh under the big, wooden table. I tell ya, it was better than Paris, better than the Caribbean. I've never topped out on a climb feeling more victorious and alive. I've never painted a painting or made an art piece or written a mass of words that could ever come close to that sort of glorious satisfaction. I think I'll do real good when the time finally arrives that this world decides to take my stupid body back. I always knew I had some sort of calling, some sort of gift.

Friday, April 15, 2016


When it's the parked cars that move, and the noisy traffic is like the stillness of a frozen river. Your rotten mind now hollow, a woodwind intstrument to entertain the gods.

Friday, April 8, 2016


I was saddened by the sight of an old woman sitting peacefully on her big wrap around porch. A white haired, frail old thing with her hands clasped in front of her, just looking around at it all. It took me by surprise. I had to fight it back. I even let out a little whimper. This is pretty much how I've been lately. I whipped the car around a curve and the bag of groceries fell over on the floor. "GODDAMNIT!" I yelled. "GODDAMNIT!" yelled Gordy. "No, buddy, we don't say that. That's a bad word." "YOU'RE a bad word, Daddy!" He screamed back, kicking his feet against the back of the seat. We passed something dead on the road. A pile of congealed blood like jelly, something somewhat like a face amongst the brown and white fur. Then Gordy started in on his cute little game: "Do you know about fire trucks, Daddy?" "I do!" I told him. "Close your eyes, buddy." "Do you know about cement mixers, Daddy?" "Uh huh." "Do you know about Lightenin' McQueen, Daddy?" "Yeah, I do. Do you?" "N-yes, I do... Do you know about Mater, Daddy?" "Shhhh. Go to sleep, big guy." I watched him take a big long yawn in the mirror. A minute or so later we dropped down and rolled into the parking lot of the park by the river. I cracked a window. A freight train was roaring loud and heavy down the tracks across the water. I kept the engine running and I turned around to look at him. My little guy dressed in all blue was snoring. His head was cocked to the left. His perfect red lips, his ridiculous mop of curly blond hair, his little hands, his everything perfectly still, resting. Outside, the trees were swaying. Clouds were racing in, dark and angry. I thought about my father, my favorite asshole Republican. When would I get to see him again? I need to be near him. Or any of my family? Something was happening, something big. It was certainly happening to me. But I have given up on trying to understand myself. I have given up on a lot of things lately. And it's sad, yes. And humiliating. But while I was sitting here, I hadn't really noticed the birds. They were wild, man, loud as hell. They all seemed to be fucking with each other, darting around after one another in crazy directions like little kids playing tag. A crew was busy renovating a house up on the hill. They were really gettin' after it with their nail guns. The whole world was getting after it. More and more and more and more. What the hell, man? What the fuck are we doing all of this for? How much more more will ever be enough? You know, I had never had surgery before, and I will admit here and now that being "under" was the most perfect time I've ever spent alive on planet Earth. Should I feel guilty about that? I don't know. I don't know much of anything anymore. At this moment as I'm typing these words into my phone, Gordy is starting to toss around a bit. Soon he'll be awake and all hell's probably gonna break loose. Or maybe not? You never know with that guy. A couple just got out of their car with their dog. A big black bear of a thing. A well loved, well cared for, well behaved, pet. And now a big goofy goose goes barreling through the air above us all, literally honking. I laughed out loud: "Haha! Look at that fucker!" "Daddy!" said Gordy. "Hey! Did you have a good sleepy?" "Daddy, do you know about Star Wars, Daddy?" I put the car in reverse as I smiled at him in the mirror. "Yeah, I do," I told him, rolling us back, "Do YOU know about Star Wars, Gordy?" "N-yes. I do.... Do you know about...."

Sunday, September 27, 2015

"Invoking posterity is like giving speeches to worms." -Ferdinand Celine, one of the most miserable humans to ever walk the earth, and my hero.

Saturday, September 19, 2015