New Poem: Blueberry Ale

November 2, 2010

Here is another poem. It is part of the book titled: Love is a Donkey. Now for some interaction (should you choose to accept your mission.) from you all. The poem is titled Blueberry Ale (right now) but the wifey thinks it should be titled “The Art of Giving Blow Jobs”. What say you dear reader? As always any comments appreciated.


After the third bottle the topic turned to sex.
This was usually the case but never with so many people
mulled and munched veggies. The party should’ve been over.
Rick finished off the hummus by himself. It was thick and homemade.
We found him on the toilet a joint in one hand and the other knuckle deep in the bowl.
“At least he’s not jacking off again” Johnny offered. He was right.


Two years from now he’d jump off a highway over pass.
His body smashed through the windshield of a brown Taurus.
He always had to take someone down with him. A pocket full of peach schnapps’
I got drunk at his funeral. “I always hated smooth tongued Johnny Ray.” I quipped
to the pretty girl at the bar. I undressed her with my eyes.
It turned out to be his sister.


At one point I must have met her. She may have even been at the party.
Pieces of poetry and scraps of art were thrown about.
It was the last of its kind. The only one where we were all friends and artists
If we had known that it may have changed things.
Of course in the end we’d still be high and debating the art of blow jobs.


The one where I recap my birthday

August 9, 2010

Gather round kiddies. It’s time for the weekly recap of the weekend. Now this one was pretty packed like the previous weeks—what is it summer or something? Of course if you pay attention (and you should because there may be a test eventually) you’ll notice that I continually keep doing the same things over and over.

Bar
Marx Brothers movie
Bar
Cult Movie
Art Lecture
Hobo Killing

Uhm…I mean…so….yeah you get the point. I likes what I likes so there. This week was a bit different because as I ranted about here it was my 32nd birthday. Interestingly in that b-day post I don’t think I actually mentioned my age. I got asked about it a lot (understandably being my birthday and all) this weekend. Usually like this:

Person(s): So how does 32 feel?
Me: Pretty much the same as 31?
Person(s): Hahaha yeah.

I mean I’ve not changed that much. I’ve firmly held onto the notion that we have no choice in growing old but growing up is optional. I know you can hardly tell I refuse to give up not growing up.

That is not the point of the post tho. Oh no this is the all important what I did over the weekend recap post. This goes beyond the debate of growing up vs. growing old. Who did I see? Who did I not see? (What?) Where did we see each other and so on.

Friday was a fun day. I mean of course it was my birthday and all. It started with a minus though. I had to have pants on early morning but at least it was for a good cause!

Cupcakes!

Yeah the wifey bought me some Banana Crème w/ Cinnamon Honey butter cream frosting cupcakes from the awesome LaBella Cupcakes. They are divine. If you are in the Cleve-o area you must try them. I can’t wait till they open their store!

The rest of the day I spent checking out possible writing gigs, applying to jobs and then drinking whiskey. Yeah whiskey during the day, you got a problem with that? No in fact some of you were trying to get me to drink earlier. I had a nice little buzz going by 2pm. Not a full on buzz but a nice warm and fuzzy feeling.

Later that night we went to Reddstone for some grub, drinks and good times. The group that helped celebrate my b-day was: Kat, Pelvic Joann, Alicia, Camilla, The Rizza, Dave, and the Pole Smoker. There were cameos by Craig and I got to meet someone new from twitter (JDDrake) The festivities included 8 dollar grape bombs shots courtesy the love Rizza. Yeah 8 freaking dollars! The company was good even if the pricing seemed to border on the not so fun. We spent most of the night there chatting, taunting and so forth. There was this statement:

We were discussing being drunk. I went to explain how you can tell on twitter when I start quoting rap lyrics, only it came out like this)

Me: You can tell when I’m queer—
Yeah that was good for some laughs. There were these:

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(Me, Alicia, Camilla and Dave)

And this gem of a picture:

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(Me and the pole smoker.)

Now I’d have more pictures (and there are some) but it is more important to me to have a good time than to snap fashionable pictures. From there we headed over to Parnell’s Pub. I felt it was only right to celebrate at least part of my birthday there. I had 3 jack and gingers and then we headed home. Not before Camilla grabbed my picture and took some very drunk pictures.

Pics included: half a phone, a few elbows, 3 cheeks, a chin, half a head, and me looking down.

Saturday was mostly spent at home reading, writing and watching tv while recovering from the night before. The wifey had a call back and when she returned we headed over to Duck Soup at the Cinematheque. From there we hit up Chipotle for dinner. Here we got to witness a group of plain clothes cops walking around like they just got out of the latest Bad Boys flick. They were walking with a swagger, badges hanging around their neck and bullet proof vest. Then there were the 30 something guys creeping on some chicks in their late teens. Here is one interaction:

Creeper 1: Hey you going to get the new iphone?
Girl 1: Nah.
Creeper 1: Here you want mine? Here you go. I’ll trade you for your burrito bowl. HAHA.
Girl 1: Right.
Creeper 2: He just wanted to show off.
Girl 2: Right.
Creeper 1: So what are your plans for tonight?
Silence.

Yeah and when the girls got up to throw away their shit and leave, the two creepers practically got them pregnant with their eyes. From there we went over to Parnell’s for a quick drink and then went to see Pulp Fiction.

Jimi Factoid #1: He has seen Pulp Fiction 59 times now.

Sunday (that’s my funday. My I don’t have to runday) we did some much needed shopping and a bit o relaxing. I got a couple of frames for some autographs I had.

Bernie Kosar
Anderson Varejao
And Mother fucking Raven. (sorry)

Then we headed over to her dad’s house. He was making me dinner for my birthday. He made dolmades and some Spanakopita. They were delish and a fine way to end a week. Today we start a diet that I won’t go into detail about but it isn’t my favorite. I can probably parlay this into wifely favors but will probably waste those by making her go to local wrestling shows.

A side note since I started doing Yoga for Regular Guys consistently again and walking more and eating less I’ve lost 6 pounds. Go me.

That sentence sucked but oh well.

How the bleep was your weekend?

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