Papa what are you doing its yesterday?
I know you think I am weird... and I wanted to thank you for that....
I do hold an appreciation... you confronted me to my face in the grocery store.
You probably don't remember coming over to the house and playing with my kids...
You were very comical looking... and always had such a strait face...
You were not very susceptible to ... joking or teasing.. and not made to laugh easily...
You were in perfectly safe hands...
Some of the other kids mothers were doing up Cocaine.... yours was not...
One mother left her kids with us for 3 days.. without even calling.... she dropped her kids off with a package of Skittles.... and snotty noses....
I would not expect you to remember any of this shit... you were only 3 or 4 maybe... you used to wear them little damned Osh Kosh bib overalls... always made me chuckle.... its not that they looked bad or anything
they were just comical with you and your strait face....
I think you guys actually had fun playing in the atrium in the kiddie pool... and stuff... it was a big terrible mess... Plants, and toys.. and things strewn around everywhere.... a nightmare or heaven.... depending on your perspective....
You grew into a young woman... gosh how old are you now 25 -30..... I think your attractive... does that make me creepy.... as your babysitter..... its not then nor was it... but now... well that is a different story isn't it?
I don't know if it is courage, balls, or honesty.... that you approached me in the grocery store and told me to my face you thought the stuff I write is weird....
So I wanted to compliment you on it... which ever way it is... and what a pleasure it has been from my distant perspective watching you grow up and following a meaningful path... and finding some success ..
I am not your Parent... but non the less feel some pride in you...
Your part time baby sitter. You probably know who you are... but are not reading this.
Kiddo.
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Monday, June 29, 2015
The First One
He bent over and picked up a piece of broken pottery... it was around 900 years old best he could figure give a lifetime or two maybe three..............
It sent a shock wave up his forearm.
He thought ' The Art of Acting out Art.'
Read the comments beneath.. almost any Post... People are generally Idiots... taking this shit seriously ..
Come on man its fucking Art... it does not even have to be good.. you don't have to like it... but still some idiot makes a remark it is not real...its fake... Well No Shit Sherlock, Your a fucking genius...
Are you Stupid ? Of course it fucking is.... its Art, its the illusion... I can't fathom you would believe otherwise.. and yet.. hundreds thousands even... of Stupid Idiotic Remarks.
Its just acting man.......
Acting out a calling... a pursuit ... so relax.. don't shit your pants... O.K.?
Its for the entertainment of others... not you apparently .........
So he is wandering around in a dark mobile home.... feeling the walls in lust... looking for his long lost love:
All the lamps are burned out... every friggen one.... click the switch , still dark, He guesses all the bulbs are burned out.
He finally feels his way to the bedroom door where she is sleeping... opens the door he crawls in bed with her.. ah the feel of the sheets... oh he has not seen her in so long...
He is all Horny you know?
He kisses her on the neck... such soft flesh.... she is mildly receptive.
Oh wait a minute , he had her confused with the other girl the First One... he called her by the wrong name... he tried to cover it up quickly... she is a bitch.. that is what I meant to say.... he tells her... that other one was no good , but oh how he did love her.
She is pissed, He says don't be mad honey.
I love you... now for some of that nookie please, the coochie ...
Still your heart is aching for the first one it really is.
The first one...
A Techno beat..... Th Th Th Th Th The F F F F F F First one.
The First one The First one........ Th Th Th Th Th F F F F F F First one.
He kisses her on the soft neck....
Fucking Christ... He just got your names mixed up... its no big deal.
What are you so worked up for?
The First One.
It sent a shock wave up his forearm.
He thought ' The Art of Acting out Art.'
Read the comments beneath.. almost any Post... People are generally Idiots... taking this shit seriously ..
Come on man its fucking Art... it does not even have to be good.. you don't have to like it... but still some idiot makes a remark it is not real...its fake... Well No Shit Sherlock, Your a fucking genius...
Are you Stupid ? Of course it fucking is.... its Art, its the illusion... I can't fathom you would believe otherwise.. and yet.. hundreds thousands even... of Stupid Idiotic Remarks.
Its just acting man.......
Acting out a calling... a pursuit ... so relax.. don't shit your pants... O.K.?
Its for the entertainment of others... not you apparently .........
So he is wandering around in a dark mobile home.... feeling the walls in lust... looking for his long lost love:
All the lamps are burned out... every friggen one.... click the switch , still dark, He guesses all the bulbs are burned out.
He finally feels his way to the bedroom door where she is sleeping... opens the door he crawls in bed with her.. ah the feel of the sheets... oh he has not seen her in so long...
He is all Horny you know?
He kisses her on the neck... such soft flesh.... she is mildly receptive.
Oh wait a minute , he had her confused with the other girl the First One... he called her by the wrong name... he tried to cover it up quickly... she is a bitch.. that is what I meant to say.... he tells her... that other one was no good , but oh how he did love her.
She is pissed, He says don't be mad honey.
I love you... now for some of that nookie please, the coochie ...
Still your heart is aching for the first one it really is.
The first one...
A Techno beat..... Th Th Th Th Th The F F F F F F First one.
The First one The First one........ Th Th Th Th Th F F F F F F First one.
He kisses her on the soft neck....
Fucking Christ... He just got your names mixed up... its no big deal.
What are you so worked up for?
The First One.
Sunday, June 28, 2015
The Rejection Notice From The Guggenheim
What a whirlwind of dreams this life:
He was thinking back to his rejection notice from the Guggenheim... he should of hung it in a frame on the wall, what was the matter with him?... he should of been proud of it... he can't even remember what the potential grant money was for... oh it was something on the lines of making the world a more livable place, they had acknowledged him and his idea... so much so they said his application was very creative... but no banana... too bad but thanks for trying.
Don't take it the wrong way, please, such decorum .............
It was a pretty combination lock.... for your bicycle... it looked just like a big dice... you had to turn the snake eyes to oppose the single dot... not entirely unlike a Rubik's Cube and wa la... the tumblers would line up... and out would slide the mechanism nice and smooth like.
His different pride:
His problem too nice of a guy:
Her husband was a decent guy:
He was an old man and lived in their attic... he rode around town on a bicycle, he wore red... he had to leave the house early as it got hot up there... and he had habitual rounds to make.
The owner, the nice guy asked him to wait around for the gravel truck to come... he was having 3/8" white P-gravel delivered for some landscaping in the yard... all the old man could think of was the dreaded wheelbarrow .... the young man was also trying to build this highly creative shower.. it was going to be made with rather large panels of stained glass translucent panes... with slots router'ed in and among'st the Banyan trees... to slide the sections into.
The old man was sort of scratching his head at the young mans idea... he had seen some photos of a wall.. the young fellow attempted to build with sticks and mortar .... he had gotten a start then had to tear it down and went with traditional stone and forms.... the old man really liked the young guy... he was meaning well.
All those kids that were passing through the house... he had to watch his emotions and behaviors....
Waiting for a figure of truth to appear .... the adolescent girl wanted to be picked up and held.
Failure and there Why? He thought to himself... She was so hungry.
He felt dangerous.
Oh and then there was that mean group of boys... they were heading for trouble as they passed through the nice decent mans house... he knew it he could see it... so he thought... pretty sure.
He had his own problems.. he had to watch his feelings....and control his emotions and desires...
Failure and their why? He thought to himself and the Take care of it.
He wobbled down the street with no where to go on his old red bicycle with the over sized rolling dice for a combination lock.... a bit fearful...........
She sure was a good looker and was kind, and did like him .................. and he her too.
He really should have framed and hung his rejection notice from the Guggenheim, it was something to be proud of.
You don't get satiated without hunger.
The Rejection Notice From The Guggenheim.
He was thinking back to his rejection notice from the Guggenheim... he should of hung it in a frame on the wall, what was the matter with him?... he should of been proud of it... he can't even remember what the potential grant money was for... oh it was something on the lines of making the world a more livable place, they had acknowledged him and his idea... so much so they said his application was very creative... but no banana... too bad but thanks for trying.
Don't take it the wrong way, please, such decorum .............
It was a pretty combination lock.... for your bicycle... it looked just like a big dice... you had to turn the snake eyes to oppose the single dot... not entirely unlike a Rubik's Cube and wa la... the tumblers would line up... and out would slide the mechanism nice and smooth like.
His different pride:
His problem too nice of a guy:
Her husband was a decent guy:
He was an old man and lived in their attic... he rode around town on a bicycle, he wore red... he had to leave the house early as it got hot up there... and he had habitual rounds to make.
The owner, the nice guy asked him to wait around for the gravel truck to come... he was having 3/8" white P-gravel delivered for some landscaping in the yard... all the old man could think of was the dreaded wheelbarrow .... the young man was also trying to build this highly creative shower.. it was going to be made with rather large panels of stained glass translucent panes... with slots router'ed in and among'st the Banyan trees... to slide the sections into.
The old man was sort of scratching his head at the young mans idea... he had seen some photos of a wall.. the young fellow attempted to build with sticks and mortar .... he had gotten a start then had to tear it down and went with traditional stone and forms.... the old man really liked the young guy... he was meaning well.
All those kids that were passing through the house... he had to watch his emotions and behaviors....
Waiting for a figure of truth to appear .... the adolescent girl wanted to be picked up and held.
Failure and there Why? He thought to himself... She was so hungry.
He felt dangerous.
Oh and then there was that mean group of boys... they were heading for trouble as they passed through the nice decent mans house... he knew it he could see it... so he thought... pretty sure.
He had his own problems.. he had to watch his feelings....and control his emotions and desires...
Failure and their why? He thought to himself and the Take care of it.
He wobbled down the street with no where to go on his old red bicycle with the over sized rolling dice for a combination lock.... a bit fearful...........
She sure was a good looker and was kind, and did like him .................. and he her too.
He really should have framed and hung his rejection notice from the Guggenheim, it was something to be proud of.
You don't get satiated without hunger.
The Rejection Notice From The Guggenheim.
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
The Savage Martyr Islands Of The Florida Keys
Maybe I should have named the book 'The open Beach Towel'. or beach blanket bingo... oh yes that's been used hasn't it?
Well, Something cute.
Check the correct box.. for a certain outcome
Fabricated dull story's.......
Maybe that is an acquired taste of moderna readership ? I am allowed to be cynical is it my blog I think.
You know if you look at the old charts... The Florida Keys are noted as LOS MARTYRS... I am sure that is because it was a lovely place.
NO drinking Water, Hostile Natives.... they were called the 5 tribes of the MUSPA for your edification... I have it on good word... That of a Crack Head, he claimed to be half Indian... HOWE KEY Was named after his forefather... you know just North of Big Pine Key there... in the Florida Keys... his other half was English Man.... well so he said........ They moved The Spanish loot out of Watsons Hammock up into Paolita up in the Everglades... over one hundred years ago, a golden bell even..... try going up in there my buddy did and got run out at the barrel of a gun.... ya go try it... I suggest you do especially if your a White Man.... after all you deserve the Gold.
Back to Steve:
Or as Barefoot Mike would have so eloquently called him .. "A Pure Out Nut".. non the less his reams of hand written notes a verbal history put to paper in longhand on the sketchy history of the smiling Islands also known as the Fabulous Florida Keys... South and West of Miami... was indeed an interesting read... You know the note book papers stuffed in a long gone cardboard box... it contents returned to the person I had borrowed them from ... John Reid.... sorry the rest of you missed it.
A full decade before John Vieles wonderful history books came out.
The Natives were originally nice to ship wreck victims... but good old humanity of the Spaniards had to kick in of course... and to dictate to the natives how their nomadic... free life was not good for them ... and put them over fires and cooked them etc... they finally got hip... sort of understandable... don't you think? Probably not.
and turned murderous... Don't believe me? Just ask Fontenada.......
Its a sketchy early history, but non the less an interesting one... that of Paradise.. there was the Massacre up on Indian Key.... did you know before that 400 Frenchmen were slaughtered up there?
Oh and the Perrines.... hiding under the Dock.. as the Natives went on a rampage and burned them out....
I take special glee in the group of Natives that never did surrender in the Everglades.. and made good their escape by Canoe Across the Florida Straights... Into Red Bay Andros....
They are still there today... going there 20 years back I had to hide my camera.... even then...
So tell me how wonderful your 300.00 a night room is... then think about the ground it is sitting on.
Back to the book/screenplay...... The Savage Martyr Islands Of The Florida Keys.. that is about my 30 plus year window of opportunity... to meet some of the greatest most interesting of folks... from the seeming bums to the CEO'S of major Corporations .. and the interesting Hollywood ... Makers from Disney Home Entertainment division Robert Chapek............ as well as my having bumped into George Clooney in a convertible sitting next to a blond in front of Co's Co's restaurant while I was picking up cigarette butts...inquiring of me a good place for breakfast , I sent him in and my recommending a good dive shop to Robert Downey Jr. and then meeting Alan Schwartz.. and working on his 26' Aquasports engine Carbs..., Sherwood's brother... of Gilligans Island notoriety ... Oh him! yes, and his lovely wife the original Wrigleys Gum Twins, Jane I believe it was, if I recall correctly and of course Marty the Mouthwash drinker.......... who would roll up on his bicycle and sing Elvis 'Love me Tender Love me True before asking me for .27 putting that all in the same sentence.... was so easy.
Well you just never know who you will meet just across the street.... do you? Keep your eyes open.
Nobody likes a Name Dropper.
So impetuous I almost got shot at the No Name Pub... once... years ago for running my mouth.
John. americanworkmule@gmail.com
Well, Something cute.
Check the correct box.. for a certain outcome
Fabricated dull story's.......
Maybe that is an acquired taste of moderna readership ? I am allowed to be cynical is it my blog I think.
You know if you look at the old charts... The Florida Keys are noted as LOS MARTYRS... I am sure that is because it was a lovely place.
NO drinking Water, Hostile Natives.... they were called the 5 tribes of the MUSPA for your edification... I have it on good word... That of a Crack Head, he claimed to be half Indian... HOWE KEY Was named after his forefather... you know just North of Big Pine Key there... in the Florida Keys... his other half was English Man.... well so he said........ They moved The Spanish loot out of Watsons Hammock up into Paolita up in the Everglades... over one hundred years ago, a golden bell even..... try going up in there my buddy did and got run out at the barrel of a gun.... ya go try it... I suggest you do especially if your a White Man.... after all you deserve the Gold.
Back to Steve:
Or as Barefoot Mike would have so eloquently called him .. "A Pure Out Nut".. non the less his reams of hand written notes a verbal history put to paper in longhand on the sketchy history of the smiling Islands also known as the Fabulous Florida Keys... South and West of Miami... was indeed an interesting read... You know the note book papers stuffed in a long gone cardboard box... it contents returned to the person I had borrowed them from ... John Reid.... sorry the rest of you missed it.
A full decade before John Vieles wonderful history books came out.
The Natives were originally nice to ship wreck victims... but good old humanity of the Spaniards had to kick in of course... and to dictate to the natives how their nomadic... free life was not good for them ... and put them over fires and cooked them etc... they finally got hip... sort of understandable... don't you think? Probably not.
and turned murderous... Don't believe me? Just ask Fontenada.......
Its a sketchy early history, but non the less an interesting one... that of Paradise.. there was the Massacre up on Indian Key.... did you know before that 400 Frenchmen were slaughtered up there?
Oh and the Perrines.... hiding under the Dock.. as the Natives went on a rampage and burned them out....
I take special glee in the group of Natives that never did surrender in the Everglades.. and made good their escape by Canoe Across the Florida Straights... Into Red Bay Andros....
They are still there today... going there 20 years back I had to hide my camera.... even then...
So tell me how wonderful your 300.00 a night room is... then think about the ground it is sitting on.
Back to the book/screenplay...... The Savage Martyr Islands Of The Florida Keys.. that is about my 30 plus year window of opportunity... to meet some of the greatest most interesting of folks... from the seeming bums to the CEO'S of major Corporations .. and the interesting Hollywood ... Makers from Disney Home Entertainment division Robert Chapek............ as well as my having bumped into George Clooney in a convertible sitting next to a blond in front of Co's Co's restaurant while I was picking up cigarette butts...inquiring of me a good place for breakfast , I sent him in and my recommending a good dive shop to Robert Downey Jr. and then meeting Alan Schwartz.. and working on his 26' Aquasports engine Carbs..., Sherwood's brother... of Gilligans Island notoriety ... Oh him! yes, and his lovely wife the original Wrigleys Gum Twins, Jane I believe it was, if I recall correctly and of course Marty the Mouthwash drinker.......... who would roll up on his bicycle and sing Elvis 'Love me Tender Love me True before asking me for .27 putting that all in the same sentence.... was so easy.
Well you just never know who you will meet just across the street.... do you? Keep your eyes open.
Nobody likes a Name Dropper.
So impetuous I almost got shot at the No Name Pub... once... years ago for running my mouth.
John. americanworkmule@gmail.com
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
The Uncanny Quality of Crying Hard Through The Myth
What do we see?
Wandering through the New Mexico Desert?
I am with my friend Mark... his nick name was Mark the Moment.
He was in it.
Then I ran into Craig who was bitching.... what was I doing on the property line... did I not know the neighbors would be upset?... I explained to him I was Lost and trying to find Lyle a mutual friend.. and there was nothing to fear.
Yes, but the neighbors had guns he warned me, and no telling what they may do.
Though he recognized me they might not.... he could not assure me I would be safe...
Oh the Junk cars in the Desert...
I had simply stopped to take a piss... and now I was lost... as Lyle knew the way.. and he went on without me.
Man you could see for miles and miles and miles... nothingness... everythingness ............ (you like that I made up a word) you can put it up in the cloud as a new word....
anyway... my greatest concern was my conjecture of the reality.... one could run out of water and perish...
its no game out west, or actually it is.... survive.
Fritter the years away.... it is no small task... yet goes so fast.
The orders were coming in so fast from all directions he needed a spring rake to accumulate the money into a pile..............
Like confetti at a ticker tape parade..... you know like after our boys returned at the end of the second world war.... I have seen it in movies....
hoo rah.... talk about generating a feeling of overall well being...... those must of been some tearful feel good moments.
There they were every man and woman in love emanating magical notes with each other.... Glenn Miller Playing off in the distance....
He played the role of dancing, she cry's hard riding through the myth....... He thinks to himself
Being normal sure as hell ain't gonna cut it with her.
Well at least it had not been with any delectable he had ever encountered ..... it was his experience you simply keep them entertained for a while at your expense.......
and to think all my shit is going up into a cloud................. The Ascension .........................should I thank chrome book or the N.S.A.?
hoe de doe dee............... The Uncanny Quality of Crying Hard Through The Myth.
The Howler Monkeys are at it outside my window.
We have something in common, this time of morning.
Wandering through the New Mexico Desert?
I am with my friend Mark... his nick name was Mark the Moment.
He was in it.
Then I ran into Craig who was bitching.... what was I doing on the property line... did I not know the neighbors would be upset?... I explained to him I was Lost and trying to find Lyle a mutual friend.. and there was nothing to fear.
Yes, but the neighbors had guns he warned me, and no telling what they may do.
Though he recognized me they might not.... he could not assure me I would be safe...
Oh the Junk cars in the Desert...
I had simply stopped to take a piss... and now I was lost... as Lyle knew the way.. and he went on without me.
Man you could see for miles and miles and miles... nothingness... everythingness ............ (you like that I made up a word) you can put it up in the cloud as a new word....
anyway... my greatest concern was my conjecture of the reality.... one could run out of water and perish...
its no game out west, or actually it is.... survive.
Fritter the years away.... it is no small task... yet goes so fast.
The orders were coming in so fast from all directions he needed a spring rake to accumulate the money into a pile..............
Like confetti at a ticker tape parade..... you know like after our boys returned at the end of the second world war.... I have seen it in movies....
hoo rah.... talk about generating a feeling of overall well being...... those must of been some tearful feel good moments.
There they were every man and woman in love emanating magical notes with each other.... Glenn Miller Playing off in the distance....
He played the role of dancing, she cry's hard riding through the myth....... He thinks to himself
Being normal sure as hell ain't gonna cut it with her.
Well at least it had not been with any delectable he had ever encountered ..... it was his experience you simply keep them entertained for a while at your expense.......
and to think all my shit is going up into a cloud................. The Ascension .........................should I thank chrome book or the N.S.A.?
hoe de doe dee............... The Uncanny Quality of Crying Hard Through The Myth.
The Howler Monkeys are at it outside my window.
We have something in common, this time of morning.
Monday, June 22, 2015
Blanco y Negro
Living the things we think. Living our I.D. You know our identification... and the metal tag out on the cart.
The permission of fools........ as we attempt to distinguish between black and white.
Who is the failure?
The permission of fools........ as we attempt to distinguish between black and white.
Who is the failure?
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