gimme dat harp, boy

it's early on a monday afternoon.  I'm eating spaghetti from an over-sized tub of plastic tupperware, listening to songs I probably shouldn't be listening to ... my thoughts are the big muddy, contemplating war over a cup of warm tea.  patrick this is for you ...

just the other day I rode my bike to algeria and shot a game of pool with miss annie oakley.  she's prettier than any picture I've ever seen ... stands to break a few hearts as she puts that steam behind her shot , know you can watch her line up her game with one good eye closed for aim ... she sunk me even from a distance.  later, I walked her home and for the sake of the Tradition and unspoken possibility, I kept my hands clean.  can't say the same for my imagination, but such is the Life.  and the story ends with her six guns, her eyes still smoking, as we sent her off on the iron horse to new york city early the next morning.  I still miss her.  she left a handcrafted pink and white washcloth good for exfoliation.  that's a true story.       

but it's transition fucking time as I have to work soon and I've made the switch to led zepplin and busch.  I take nothing but cold tall boys in this madman's infantry as we are destined for over-consumption and immanent doom ... they're simply better for action over contemplation, exactly what one needs in these black and dire times.  and I can not agree with the previous post in good conscious.  there is no verse in the book of revelations to back it.  and fuck nic cage.  who is this fucking guy anyway?  I most certainly do not need that smarmy fuck to live, much less vicariously.  as far as I am concerned I have saved this bastard planet no less than 9 times.  what is cage up to?  a couple cities and one major continent?  please.  what fucking day and age is it that we live in that I, or any of us for that matter, are even compared to that shit eating dink?  as far as I'm concerned, he and black betty can hit the bricks.    cause I love sandwiches.  but though patrick and I may disagree, he and I can at least rest in peace.  small as this world has become there is still room to breathe, but as history has proven and as we continue to breed like cockroaches, it was indeed never meant to last ... so stretch out and take up space just because you can ....  if patrick and I can do it ... shit, then that shouldn't be all that much to ask.  understand that Mr. P and I have Problems and yet here we are ... so you have no excuse.  besides, if you find that the story of others, along with your own, falls short of intriguing and you risk a permanent standstill,  do what I do ... lie sincerely through your teeth.