Tuesday, 10 January, 2012
basset hound
i am 3 days sick, or maybe 5, if you count upwards.
bent over like a begger in the battlefield.
wish i had music on in the background instead of seinfeld.
fixed, juno soundtrack, wobbly eyes, un-steady keys.
the medication is working.
i am fine.
i feel like a jerkass whenever i call-in sick, colin sick.
not like a liar, but certainly like a jerkass.
er'body at work today said: OAHL! I HOALP HE GHETS WAY BETTHER SOAHL FASHT!!
Dang-Q.
my voice is still at the party on saturday night.
called, left msgs, texts, bbms, bobs, wallaces.
nothing, nowhere, nevermore.
replaced with a barking cough, and a crying nose.
painful and plentiful.
my head is way heavier when it's full of sloppy-snot and pre-coughs.
eating so many oranges.
drinking coffee and OJ and watka.
peeling skins, getting wins.
gotta heal fast for the big show:
FRIDAY FEBRUARY 3RD - JOE'S APARTMENT - GRANVILLE STREET
full band, with fully-bonded musicians.
playing new and old songs only.
none of that yesterday or tomorrow shit.
*if you are reading this, you should absolutely attend, unless you live in europe or winnipeg.
write next line here, non italic, safe.
thanks helper col-brain.
cold medication is much stronger than my normal rotation.
i collect the dumbest shit. but some of it is good memories and stuff.
the kind of stuff that keeps the ole dome steady on cold nights like tonight.
Monday, 2 January, 2012
December 31st, 2011, 2:31pm
(transcribed from greasy notes, by greasy hands)
I am poolside at The Signature and just realized that I could use my iphone as a cool-write-stuff-downer.
Got one of those fancy round foamy chairs, given to me, by total fluke, like a big greasy smile from above.
I counted the 20 floors up to our suite, but I cant see me up there anywhere.
Even though im out there alot.
Some people just showed up at the pool with drinks that are 5 feet long.
2 of them need harnessess. I am basking.
Mixed my spiced rum with just the right amounts of water and ice and rum to make it look exactly like the plastic Miller beer in the bottle in which I poured it.
I chose this artistic combo, even though liquor consumption of all kinds is readily and rapidly encouraged on all plots of the Vegas map.
Well, the rich part.
As happy as I am, I picked the wrong side of the pool.
They still got sun over there.
But I'm extremely content here on my big syrupy pancake chair.
Both the jealous and the educated think that I'm some dick playing games on his phone, instead of watching the helicopters, hot-tubbers, hooters, and hick-nocks.
Big big things are happening right now on the strip.
A nice Mexican cabbie told me that tonight was going to be total insanity.
He owns a ranch in real life, and I believed every word he said.
I told him we were going to see my favorite band on New Years Eve, and that they had a nice Mexican man in the band who played horns and hard guitars.
Bless Hamed and his cocunut water.
Meg just texted me, offering a McDonalds pickup on the way back from the strip.
Bless her more than Hamed.
I'm gonna get her to take my picture from the balcony.
Success.
archives
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
May 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009
October 2009
November 2009
December 2009
January 2010
February 2010
March 2010
April 2010
May 2010
June 2010
July 2010
August 2010
September 2010
October 2010
November 2010
December 2010
January 2011
February 2011
March 2011
April 2011
May 2011
July 2011
August 2011
September 2011
October 2011
November 2011
December 2011
January 2012
February 2012
