- Photo taken at FedEx field last night minutes (via Sportsbog) yo after the Little Danny Snyder's took Robert Griffin III. How great would it have been if at the last minute Indianapolis had taken Griffen instead of the guy they took?
- I want to send out a Hi! to the FBI bot that's scrolling this shitty blog from front to back. There are lots of motherfuckers used, but no threats.
- Speaking of which, May is going to be a motherfucker free month. I accept your pint bet, L. Anyone else want in?
- Motherfucking Obama.
- Fairness v inequality.
- Modernism, surrealism, political imagination.
- Music, modernism, twilight of the elites.
- Another type of carnival.
- Part of his culture.
- Prose v poetry.
- How books will survive Amazon.
- Don't you flush?
- Last stop on the groove line.
- Today's music via Hamster, who Kindly sent me this check-this-out:
my mother pushed my sister out of the apartment door with an empty
suitcase because she kept threatening to run away my sister was sick of me
getting the best of everything the bathrobe with the pink stripes instead of
the red the soft middle piece of bread while she got the crust I was sick with
asthma and she thought this made me a favorite
I wanted to be like the girl in the made-for-tv movie Maybe I'll Come Home
in the Spring which was supposed to make you not want to run away but it
looked pretty fun especially all of the agony it put your parents through and
the girl was in California or someplace warm with a boyfriend and they
always found good food in the dumpsters at least they could eat pizza and
candy and not meat loaf the runaway actress was Sally Field or at least
someone who looked like Sally Field as a teenager the Flying Nun propelled
by the huge wings on the sides of her wimple Arnold the Pig getting drafted
in Green Acres my understanding then of Vietnam I read Go Ask Alice and
The Peter Pan Bag books that were designed to keep a young girl home but
there were the sex scenes and if anything this made me want to cut my hair
with scissors in front of the mirror while I was high on marijuana but I
couldn't inhale because of my lungs my sister was the one to pass out
behind the church for both of us rum and angel dust
and that's how it was my sister standing at the top of all those stairs that
lead up to the apartment and she pushed down the empty suitcase that
banged the banister and wall as it tumbled and I was crying on the other side
of the door because I was sure it was my sister who fell all ketchup blood and
stuck out bones my mother wouldn't let me open the door to let my sister
back in I don't know if she knew it was just the suitcase or not she was cold
rubbing her sleeves a mug of coffee in her hand and I had to decide she said I
had to decide right then
There were 27 teams, there are now 30, so yeah, still have a better chance of being chosen CEO, eaten by a shark, and struck by lightning, all on the same day, than dunking in a sparkly, overloud arena for a last place team.ReplyDelete
Too many poems about the same subject? Bah, that's my raison d'idiot.
Are you saying that sports are the opiate of the masses, American-style, BDR?ReplyDelete
Of course, this never gets old: http://www.comedycentral.com/video-clips/b224ei/chappelle-s-show-the-racial-draftReplyDelete
Wow, that commercial is really not politically correct, nor is it original.ReplyDelete
Propelled By the Huge Wings on the Sides of Her Wimple
Sally Field... manic pixie dream nun.