Wednesday, September 15, 2004

I got soul but I'm not a soldier. It's that time of year I figured everyone would start to become a little more scarce. It's the last chance weeks. Last chance to get what you want out of summer. Last chance to take a breath before you have to buckle down for the winter roller-coaster. So I'll cut you some slack if you're not rocking out. But most of you are. In, fact, I think you're hitting your stride. . That Ashley Girl isn't talking about sex but I'm still loving it. The Simpleton is getting richer but maybe losing his soul in the process. And who does this girl Paige think she is?And I save the best for last. Tony P. Oh Tony. You're rocking hard from all angles. Marvin Gaye in the background. Inner-city blues. And I will wait to find if this will last forever. It's not supposed to.

It's make or break week for me. I chose make. Out the door at 8:30 AM and never back through the door until 10:30. G2K? Sorry babe, time is a precious commodity, I'll send you a postcard. Smokin' hot and well-mannered sorority girl? Ya sure, I got a few minutes to hang out with you on the couch after dinner. You play hockey? Ya I'll marry you. Don't judge me bitches, you don't know the half-of it. I don't wear flip flops. I don't wear mesh hats. I probably won't smile at you if you pass me by on the street. If you wear a pink polo-shirt I might punch you in the face. If you pop the top I definitely will.

My sister writes to me from the other hemisphere. She's younger and she's stranger and she could kick my ass and as a reward she is in south Africa rubbing elbows with Nelson Mandella's grandson and getting to be the one with the hot foreign accent. This is some communist propaganda bullshit. So I read about laws and reports and discoveries and get asked if I have registered to vote every time I walk outside. "Oh I'm registered, a registered felon" usually shuts them the hell up. Got so many books on my back is starting to hurt. Slept on the hard floor last night to compensate. Also maybe a girl in my bed. Bring the pain. Bring the pain. Bring the pain. I don't drink coffee but I did today? Can you tell?

Do you do the scramble? Stupid kids in the library get a cell call. And they jump up and run out so they can grab the call outside. Cause they are everyone else's bitch. I'm not my cell phone's bitch. I'm your bitch. Ask me to blog and I'll blog. Ask me to talk about sex and I'll talk about sex. Ask me to talk about politics, well I'm working on that. Don't ask me to talk about anything and this is the crap you are going to get. Journalist, law school, journalist, law school, journalist, law school. It doesn't matter so long as I can get my hands on an ibook.

Is god punishing Florida for the 2000 election? Maybe it's a warning for October. "this is your last chance or I'm wiping you old people off the face of the earth." Cause they're just voting for their prescription drug costs. They don't' give a fuck about the war I'm going to be paying for for the remiander of my natural life. Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe it's the call of the wild. Maybe it's all the short skirts and push-up bras. Makes me wanna holler, throw up both my hands. This ain't living, this ain't living.



2 Comments:

Blogger simpleton said...

Thanks for the reminder. I'll watch out for that.

8:26 PM  
Blogger colderwater said...

did you know that the hyphen is wearing flip flops and mesh hats pretty much exclusively now?

3:10 PM  

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