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Category Archives: Beyond Wally World

Easter Sunday

I ATE RIBS – 28 (Trasher)

Easter Sunday last year. I skipped church at home and stayed in town. My dad probably sang the same hymns he sings every Easter up in the balcony and my mom may have slept in and then read instead. We used to make a big production of it all. Ladies in hats and dresses. Men/Boys in suits and dress shoes. Pictures on the front steps of my Grandparents.
The lord had risen (again) in some place no one could see. At a mid-day meal with your family, my guilt over eating animals had risen; risen and evaporated. I decided that I loved you more than animals. I ate. Ribs and brisket; my first intentional large serving of meat in about 5 years. Well, taco bell fucked up my “sub beans for beef please” order once and I ate it on the principle of not wasting what I spent money on. That’s not meat for the most part anyway. Oh, and me and my brother bought tamales once in Santa Cruz out of a cooler from a Mexican women. She only had two left and said they were veggie. Turns out mine was stuffed with an oily and savory meat log. I ate that, also for principle/experience/culture/travelers hunger.
I didn’t get sick off the Sunday brunch. I felt amazing actually. Amazing grace. I felt flexible. I felt willing. I felt kind of liberated and bad ass like who cares about living your life in rigid, black and white structure. Let’s get leather jackets! What’s right and what’s wrong is not always the same in every situation. We were right. Our worlds were colliding and we were filling up on each other, licking our blood-barbeque fingers even. I never didn’t like meat. I never didn’t like you. I didn’t like hurting (animals,you,me).
Easter this year I went home, met up with my family. I dressed up. I saw my Grandfather in the hospital too sick to speak. Afterward we all made it up to the balcony to see my Grandmother and catch the end of the Hallelujah Chorus. I hate that song.. for-ever AND ev-er. We went to my other Gram’s for early dinner. You were asked about and it was nice to be able to say “working… oh, good.. really busy lately with…” I stuck to potatoes and greens, a couple deviled eggs. I skipped the ham. I don’t really seek out meat. I don’t shop for it. I am usually fine avoiding it. I have a craving though. A longing. I am looking for someone to go to Village Coney with me and eat a real dog. A real dog, maybe with meat chili on it. Sometimes only the real thing will do. Whatever the cost. Whatever the weight of it.

ME.

_____

Filed under: Beyond Wally World

YOLO!

To the guy who publicly urinated in front of my kids at Fred Meyers – w4m – 39

I dig your badass disposition. The world is your oyster…and you’re going to pull your penis out and piss all over that oyster. Yolo, am I right? You did’nt care that I was with my kids…or that the public bus was driving by…or that there was a man eating a sandwich about 3 feet away from where you were peeing, you just said to yourself “Ride til I die motha fucka!”. You got gumption my friend. To quote lady Marmalade, “you got soul, you got class, you got style, you a badass.” I hope one of my children who caught a clear glimpse of your penis head grows up to be just like you. Did it hurt…when you fell from heaven. Maybe we can get together sometime and pee in the toy section of Wal-mart on Christmas Eve. I’ll bring the 40’s, you bring your penis. No spam replies.

 

yolo

One of my all time favs

SMOKE ON THE WAAATERRR – 28 (Guitar Center)

Date: 2012-05-05, 10:20AM EDT

Going to Guitar Center is the burden of my rock life… worse even than my co-workers thinking I’m psycho for being in my late twenties and in a band that doesn’t make money. You walk in the door knowing that you will be called “Dude” in a faux casual way at least ten times in a row. When you finally pass through this goateed, hoop earringed, tribal tattoo jungle of GC lingo and ask for help, they’ll be like
“Oh sick. What do you play?”
“Yeaaaa,,, what kinda stuff you into?”
“You in-a-band?? Where do you all gig at?”
“Nice choice, that’s the only kind I use….” whatever, sure it is. Please just let me buy my goddamned stuff without trying to sell me a clear bodied BC Rich Warlock. Without fail, there is a 12 year old guitar prodigy kid plugged in and turned up way too loud, finger tapping some shit that would take you a year to learn, effortlessly, while his hack of a Dad is 5 feet away on another amp playing Smoke On The Water. Some stoner is playing Smells Like Teen Spirit. Some pop-punk geek with orange chucks and a checkered wrist band is playing Brain Stew. I won’t even go in the acoustic room, for fear of the Christian folk jam out that is probably underway in there. Every gear head working there is day dreaming about their ideal full stack. It’s the perfect time to stick an $80 mic that’s on display in the ass of my boxer briefs and strings in the front. I don’t feel bad.
Why don’t I just support Mom and Pop? You know, Swamp Dog… 5th Avenue Fret Shop. I guess it’s American to buy corporate, cheap and without integrity. That extra two bucks for a new cable was probably just going to go to Taco Bell anyway. I should just quit Guitar Center, go to my locals.

Anyway, when I checked out, you didn’t even look at my receipt when you stamped it (All GCs have this check point before you leave). You didn’t even look in my bag. You didn’t call me dude. You did not call me anything. You looked right into my eyes and said, “Have a nice day” in the most unconvincing way I have ever heard. I said, “Only if you do first” with a tone to match your brutal sarcasm. You smirked and actually looked at me… I mean SAW me. I like your face. I like your auburn hair. You still have holes from a double labret piercing. You looked like the reformed goth type… you try to hide it but your black candle still burns. I hate my job too. I like that you aren’t afraid to show it. I’m a holey sneaker wearing, long hair, never gonna be a full timer type that wants to go to the record store at least once a week. I want to listen to Dinosaur JR and drive around with the windows down on nice days. There’s a goth dance nite at The Shrunken Head. You want to go? I look decent in black lip stick. I’ll dance even when I’m sober. What do you say?

Did you check me out when I checked out?
me.

 

smoke on the water

Traditional Easter Activities

The woman who lives in my house

after the connection

Love, The Cast of How I Met Your Mother

To the Stripper Who Left her Mark – m4w – 29 (frankford/dallas)

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Date: 2012-04-17, 10:36PM CDT
Reply to:
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Wow! What a night! (Sat the 6th to be exact.) Never in my life have I ever had such a long and exhausting night! Little did I know as I was purchasing my fat bottle of gentlemen’s jack in Addison (you were probably just waking up or starting your day) that our paths would cross in such a crazy way. Ahhhhhh… I am still taking it all in!
 
First of all, Thanks! Thanks for putting up with myself and my 3 friends who had by the time we arrived at your establishment, already put down a bottle of crown and around 1/2 ounce of chronic. Please excuse how shyly we walked to the door being as none of us had ever held handles of liquor as we pushed our way into such a posh environment before.

Tell your blonde friend who seemed destined to get me to pay the 30 dollar VIP dance throughout the night that her eyes were crossing every 5 or 6 seconds and to lay off the ice, or slow down on the x.

No I dont want the VIP dance. Yes I know thats where you can do all your “tricks”
 
I write this with hope that you remember me; I’ll tell you how I will never forget you…
 
After we hooked up several times in the club, and 2 ATM trips later I found that my almost drunken puking marathon was interrupted by a wave of heroin. Yes those tabs are real. Thanks.
 
Once my friends started to feel that rush, one left in a cab with haste, and without telling anyone.
Thats ok, she (yes she) always does that.
 
Another looked at me, his wallet empty (and the atm refusing to dispense any more cash) and gave me the go ahead glance and motioned to the door. The ride home was nice… I really didnt want the night to end… really just wanted some house or break beats and a dance floor… and well maybe even you.
 
Once we got to my friends extremely comfy loft at the Davis building, we broke out his bong and like little boys, exclaimed who was better at this, which chick had the best legs, or how close someone was to that…

I was in the corner, quietly smoking my cigarette when it happened! I looked down. Focused my now non-cooperating eyes, had I been cut? Shot? Stabbed?
 
No.
 
It was you! You didnt have too! All nice and neat, like a little special crimson Christmas present. A three by two perfectly square period stain, followed by 4 or 5 more slightly smaller ones that somehow had made the exact shape of the big dipper. AWESOME!
 
My friends had no idea what I was doing nor were they paying attention to that special moment we shared right there in my friends apartment. I took off my shirt, and then my white tee (as that is where you decided to let aunt flow stay) and proceeded to hang it on his wall.

You see, in lofts there are stray nails all over the walls and like a punch of fate there were two nails equal distance apart to display your trademark in all its glory. I even signed it for my friends.

They were very jealous.

I am in love. Please respond with which club I am referring and maybe your stage name. (I miss you casandra)

 

love the cast of how i met your mother

love the cast of how i met your mother2

Thanksgiving Week…

To the gentleman who paid for my gas – w4m – 39 (Keller Racetrac)

We had a payroll snafu this morning, and when my card didn’t work, I stood there holding my baby and panicked. How would I get to work???

 And then the clerk touches my hand and says, “that dude just paid for it”. I had another item too, and said that was so nice, I was touched at just that, and she said, “NOOO, He paid for ALL of it!” What?!?!

 You, sir, have renewed my faith in humanity, and I will remember you for the remainder of my days. I had to find you in the parking lot as you didn’t even wait around for a thank you. Beyond your incredible act of gentile compassion, I thought you were very attractive too, and would love to make you dinner sometime as repayment. In any case, I am truly grateful for you. You were my mystery angel today. 

• Location: Keller Racetrac
• it’s NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
 

Posted: October 2013

thank you3