Tuesday, March 21, 2006
lets pretend we're still in austin, k? k.
and while we're at it lets pretend that i wasnt laying on my couch catching up on my tivo when i fell asleep on my back and nearly choked on the phlegm thats being mass produced in my sneezing coughing running nose so you cant sleep sickly body.
ive seen it all so i dont mind if i die but if i really croak from choking on my own snot and you find my rotting corpse do me a favor and shove a heroine needle in my arm so i dont have to go out like a dope.
it is nice to be home again. except for the rain and the cold and the $53 taxi ride from LAX. and the bad thai from down the street and the rotten bananas above the microwave, and the curious behavior of the young lady who was doing me a favor of taking my mail out of the mailbox for me but for some reason wasnt putting it in my house, of which she has a key.
baby ive got three xxx pornos waiting for me, dont you think after ten days of being in closed confines and never in an empty room, a man doesnt want to cozy up with his smut after a long hard excursion that wound up mostly fruitless?
you know youre old when you can go ten days without beating off and just because the exact smut that youve been waiting for hasnt arrived youre perfectly ok with making it eleven days.
i met a very nice pilot on the flight from austin to vegas.
hed been flying thirty years or so and i got to ask him all these great questions about that jet blue plane whose front wheels were all fuct and the pilot burned off all the fuel and made that spectacular landing. he told me that it was spectacular, but he also said, after prodding, that pretty much every pilot would have been able to pull that off.
he said midway airport is the toughest place to land, but there are so few accidents there because everyone has to superconcentrate when they land there in bad conditions, that sometimes, just like in any activity, accidents come when people think that what theyre doing is a peice of cake and are only at 99% instead of 100%.
we talked about blogging and i may have convinced him to start a blog about being a pilot and telling us all where the good joints are to eat at all around the country since he's probably been everywhere.
then he asked for my blog address and i gave it to him but i warned him that it gets a little adult on this site sometimes, so if youre reading this you cant say i didnt warn you.
my flight was delayed in vegas because the country was pretty much shitstormed which fucked up all the flights. so i had to eat bad sabbaros pizza and listen to a slot machine ringringringring because they didnt know how to turn it off after a jackpot.
they say that those noises intice people to play because it lets them know that winning is possible and if you go to a casino and hear all these sounds that signal success you will feel more confident. i didnt feel confident. all i was confident about was that somebody was taking their sweet old time fixing that one slot because today was one of those days when people were stuck in the vegas airport and theres very little to do except feed the slots, feed your mouth, or stare at all the fake titties leaving vegas and heading back to LA.
swear to god there must have been a fake titty convention over there this weekend because those shits were everywhere. im not even curious anymore. i used to be, but im not. im not curious about anything anymore. i told you, ive seen it all.
the only thing i havent seen is the cubs win the world series and you and i both know thats never going to happen.
it was raining so bad here in LA that my directv wasnt working so i couldnt see japan finish beating the shit outta cuba in that baseball thing that everyones going crazy about. play that fucker in october after the seasons over instead of when everyones out of shape and tell me you wouldnt bet on the domincans. with pujols and papi and tejada and and and... ive seen trickery on a grand scale before so that the rest of the world can feel good about beating america. this is nothing new. but by all means lets pretend that this thing meant something.
lets pretend we're married.
lets pretend we're still drunk high and full of bbq doing shots with texas rollergirls who have their name tattooed on their one wrist and daddy tattooed on their other. lets pretend we're still bopping from club to club hearing one kickass band after another play their hearts out in 22 minute sets.
lets pretend we're still getting paid to stay up all night and schmooze with all the movers and shakers of the interweb and music industries in a town where people know your name even if you werent clever enough to tattoo it incase you forgot.
some people have an ear for the rhythms of poetry or the subtlety of classical or the improvisation of jazz. some people perk up at the twangs of country or the cutthroat rhymes of hip hop. some like the gnarled solos of great rock guitarists or the no frills stance of punk.
and some like it all and want it all and very few get it all, which is why if i had slipped away tonight from my disgusting spit i would have floated away complete. because we all know that the only place that the cubbies will win the world series is in a little place called heaven, which looks like isla vista but smells like austin.
tsar plays tonight at the whiskey and if you miss it youre dumb
Previously on busblog...