Auld Lang Syne

You should be willing to take a bullet for your good friends. So you ought to limit yourself to 4 or 5. 10 at the most. You can’t have too many friends, because that’s a lot of bullets to take. You haven’t all that many limbs to spare. That’s one approach. Another way to go about it is to have as many friends as you like, but choose the kind that surely won’t get shot at. Choose the kind that don’t go to big cities, sporting events, bars, hitchhiking, or out late at night. Definitely do not associate with the type who speak up too loud or stay suspiciously quiet. Don’t be friends with cops, hunters or any official uniformed persons. Beware activists, communists, futurists, drug addicts/dealers, presidents, and members of the Hell’s Angels. But if you just choose a little more selectively, you can have as many friends as you’d like. Even a hundred of them. Safely.

Sit at my still

In case you didn't put enough in at home, they provide hairspray, clips, and elastics. Also a mirror, a comfortable chair, every copy of Rolling Stones Magazine, and all things embellished, gold, garish, plastic, and wonderful. This is only the bathroom.

Before I went I had a ball of yarn and a hook in my hand thinking, "Can I? No, no I can't, I can't be that person at a bar with their stitching crafts." Then I got there and there already was that person, making a lovely afghan. I could have been the person to give that person a knowing nod, like between two boaters, jeepers, bikers, and yes, between two crocheters making last minute gifts at the bar on Christmas eve eve. "Hello Miss" I'd say, "Some fine work."

Now I know that (almost) anything goes at the Moonshine. Even the rhythm flute (but not ventriloquism).

(This is me keeping it real)

Think of how hideous this is, but how much potential there is in it. I'm making everybody I know one of these for them to put next to their van gogh coffee table books and ash trays. My what a doily.

We'll shed our skin because we know where it's been

I have an art history professor who, in the middle of lectures about something seeming really important, reminds us, "Let's keep it real folks."

Good advice I ought to take.

We're the best we can do.

We don't fit in so it's a good thing we're the coolest.

before tomorrow

Just who or what is Stoodwall?
He is traces left of million dollar cheques expired; baseball hats lost and littered in back alleys in big cities. Stoodwall is drinking a cesar in the morning with his marijuana cigarette. He's a big deal to some few. He is the skinny guy batting his long lashes in wide eyed angry disbelief. You called him Robin Williams and he's not taking too kindly to it. Stoodwall is your paddle boat left man, your rooftop companion, your doctor. Doctor of what?, you ask. Doctor with a half a credit in astronomy, he smugly replies.

Smile your smile and then run

Let's get married. What? Like to each other? Yeah, we could. Yeah, we could, that could be fun. Yeah, but both of us are from the same country. You know, you're right. Let's marry Swedes.

Let's take our time. The wall says: It's okay to take some time. It's not such a big deal.
We have some time. Now and now.
What about later? Yeah, then too.
And before? Well, we did, but not so much anymore.

Time for a change, of sheets at least. Thank goodness for flannelette.

Gon' catch me ridin' dirty

1. Drive to Zehrs to buy cans of beans to last the whole winter long.
2. Eat beans.
3. Tie empty tin cans to the vehicle in celebration.

My mother may want to rethink lending me the van. I have crazy plans.