gather ye rosebuds while ye may, cause we are food for worms

NONE OF THIS YOLO BULLSHIT. 

CARPE DIEM.

good afternoon, my global constituents

These audience stats have been in just the last week. It's always been a dream of mine to be heard globally, somehow... and since I haven't been able to make it into the newspapers since my college publication The Recorder (and didn't have any success with 'This American Life,' tried to stupidly send them some makeshift story idea once. said whatever once the realization hit that they were never going to send an e-mail back, and heard from a musician that infiltrating those programs are next to nearly impossible, aka not pretentious enough for NPR) being all blog bloggerson has made me feel like I can still be heard, somehow, by someone out there, beyond the pale moonlight..... so really, thank you World. and bless you, always.

you've got to be asleep to believe it

they don't give a fuck about you. at all. at all. at all.

elephant talk

undulating genie in a bottle

Finally, after 26 years of living, I am no longer a lava lamp virgin. was randomly given a blue and yellow one from a co-worker, and speaking of co-workers, I'm going to see 'Magic Mike' on Friday with the Wildflower ladies. (the codeword for nips is lipstick!) it was filmed in Clearwater, and the cast frequented our restaurant in October (when I was an invalid for a month healing from surgery.) it's apparently based on Channing Tatum's life (born in Mississippi, came to Tampa young and started male stripping. that's how he was 'spotted.') All I know is, Matthew McConaughey cracks me up in a 'you are just TOO MUCH mr. silly cowboy hippie stoned surfer ... stud? stud?! PAHAH.' (hopefully this happens not too loudly.) Kara and I both exchanged our ridiculous strip club stories (ladies ones, obv.) but honestly, if men's strip clubs were easily accessible, I probably would have never stepped into a ladies one... those you just end up at because it was last call at a bar, and one of your friends suggested it and everyone exclaimed 'YEAH!!!!!' and then you all pile into a car, and you barely remember being there, but your friends put a dollar in your hand and convince you to do something and you're such a wobbly drunk you accidentally trip and touch her on the leg... (but she deemed you a harmless drunk girl so she cut you some slack...)  [cough]  then your friends tell you the next day dying of laughter... le sigh.


 

(the lava lamp is just heating up, and right now it looks like a test tube with a titty inside lying on the bottom. thee 'nipple' is becoming more protruded by the second. soon it will eject itself into the blue nebulous liquid! )

regina spektor

 singing it like it is.

whenever you need me, whenever you want me

[thanks to my september sis sarah gagne for this!]

have no fear, blow up dolphin is here!

Whoever has been doing these 'meanwhile in floridas' caption photos after every ludicrous event that happens down here ... love it. Debby is still hangin' around, flooding (and forcing evacuations) in some areas... there's been a couple twisters and a death or two... but the wind has truly been a wild one. going to sleep at night, it makes me feel like there's a blizzard outside, because before this the strongest winds heard up north howling were accompanied by and resulted in several feet high snow dunes on the other side of the window pane. while it added a dash of excitement for a while, after what I guess will be (at the very most) a week of Miss Debby Bipolar (today for example: SUN! pouring rain. SUN! raaaain. SUN! uhhh...) I will be more than ready to say "au revoir" to this mess! 

"I read that we've had a record number of tropical storms already hit before the first month of the (Hurricane) season. Send my apologies for moving down here and bringing all this [hands gesturing around self] hot air...." (me to Chris.)

steady and sure

three rainy nights, see how they pour.

TROPICAL STORM DEBBY got tired of Dallas and decided to do the Gulf of Florida. it has been essentially pouring for almost three days, has been causing all sorts of mischief, and on top of it all, had to deal with my bank account almost being compromised by a scam. fraud knows no boundaries anymore... anyhow. been catching up on some reading, music, and movies... while making some friends who are having hard times far away laugh with silly stories and phone chats. Seems that right after dropping the holerats from my life, friends and acquaintances from the past with real problems emerged, who were seeking my help and consoling, which I have plenty to give. It becomes useless attempting to help and love those who will never love or listen to you in return properly, and will always carry animosity on their shoulder. No one bothers with the scapegoat once its wide eyed and far from the scene... but really, is the one benefiting from the bullshit. Never will I return to the previous area again, for no one truly grows, even from the most serious of situations. It is a place of misery and deceit, as is most places now it seems, but have gained an awareness that will keep me away from such buffoonery in the future, a new, improved compass to navigate me through this time period where justice and morality are practically non-existent. Live for you and in essence you will be helping others. You cannot allow yourself to forget you, and live just for others. If you think your life's quality is determined by how cool, hip, or how many people you have around in one given moment (or have 'done'.. bleck) well, uhm, instead of passively forgetting to let me know of that upon meeting me, really, don't bother. I'd rather just hang out with myself and my cat than be a conquest. Then again, I am apt to adore those who enjoy proving others wrong or challenging what they say. So, game on, Wayne. Game on, Garth.

big thank yous to the bank dudes on the phone for helping me not wake up tomorrow with $0 dollars.

the gig that changed the world

"that's John the postman. He's... a postman."

sing me to sleep

There is another world
There is a better world
Well, there must be

let go and save yourself.

convo with boy stocking at market:

"can I help you find anything?"
"I'm having a hard time deciding on something for myself, but thank you. Just having one of those days... you know."
"yeah, my car broke down yesterday. know what you mean."

asked him if he had heard Joy Division before, he admitted he hadn't, but proceeded to tell him how he should listen to them and New Order. Not sure how he felt when I said the singer took his life and the band went on without him, but I wanted to explain myself fully, and he replied he'd definitely give them a listen. call me whatever for not really listening to their catalog prior to a few months ago, but they are really helping me through my funk.

the banana splits

just had flashbacks of wearing an Alf mask cavorting around outside half a decade ago  - until a weird intoxicated dude felt compelled to wrestle 'Alf' down a hill. Alf wasn't very thrilled after that.

If I ever had a costume as cute as the banana splits, I'd be occupying ALL streets. and if I can ever assemble them all together, we'll play a show at wall street. ;)

monsieur maverick photo galleria

sir have you heard, that this country is unequal still

all you need are beers, to start a beer party...

history, continues itself....

and all i've heard and all i've seen, this place has broken, my american heart...

jay prescott sherman

Living just to keep going, going just to be sane

So You Want to be a Writer

by Charles Bukowski

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

Addressed to:

sammy the salmon, diggi-diggi-da-momana

------------------------------------

what shall i do?

DUCKMAN

hi neighbor!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"How about that? The bluebird of happiness in my own backyard."

actually had a Saturday night out with Chris devouring southwestern eggrolls, chips & salsa, and a presidente margarita (the only president i'll elect) afterwards hitting up the bookstore and purchasing two illustrated books, one being

(240 pg worth of woody allen cartoonzies for 10 bux, originally 40 bux)

here's a few favorites thus far:

and purchased some more inspirational help:

and came home to this lil' man (after being in a place that actually sells Narragansett.. and buying a pack)

Elizabeth Lively

On a dewy humid eve down in a more extravagant, yet calm small freckle of Florida, I was invited to a very elaborate dinner to sit at a table with my father, a co-worker of his, and that co-workers eldest son... with the only exception of me not being ready for the event because somebody was busy cavorting around the beautiful outdoors. Completely disheveled, I was found and escorted into the ritzy dining hall, where around little circular tables sat some big named figures and their entourages. my 'escort' was attempting to hide me as much as possible; while he thought my appearance was dreadful, even with my hair splattered all over my face, I could see some handsome faces turning through the sides of my eyes, but eyes straight forward in disdain of being treated so lowly.

Once seated, my father told me I should go freshen up. "Thank you!" I beamed, and got to leave just as fast as I had sat. "I'll lead you out," smiled the co-workers son, whom apparently had already taken a quick liking to the rumply mess to the right of him. "Okay..." I chortled as he took my hand, 'as if we were going to dance,' and left the main hall to find the closest bathroom in the gigantic ancient colonial style hotel. 

While this gentleman proved to be quite silent, he led me to his room, and graciously gave me a copy of the key to keep on hand. “I'm going to go back to the table. Good luck,” he said with a warm smile. Eye locked, I said in return, “Thank you,” with a very slight head-bow.

What happened after this is a literal hodgepodge of nonsense which involves an odd, twisted girl opening up a moving box on a wall of the bathroom: staring in at me while showering – I had noticed and was trying to figure out what was her dealio for staring at me as if I were a fish in a bowl, and later a different girl who had taken some clothes of mine to the curb, and I was crouched in the grass in my bra and underwear waiting for her to give my clothes back, she put on my favorite outfit, said “tough shit,” and walked away. 

Somehow, I stumbled onto a box of a bit silly, but passable clothes to adorn, and still made it back to the table in one piece. 

And that was last night's dream, the bullshitted version, and my character (which I got to spectate this time) was a cross between myself and Blake Lively. crossbred. whoah.

thunderstorms and riotous laughter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 

motivated memos

one of my dreams that will hopefully come true with/in a year: 

living rent-free for a few months and not worrying to where I can actually concentrate on a short story/and or childrens illustrated novel: feeling invigorated with random ideas, but they never quite seem ready so, as with wine and fermentation, hopefully they're getting richer with time. ive been taking baby steps to getting back on the horse, but get on the horse, I must.

top things that have been making me feel great:

- clif bars. favorites: coconut chocolate chip, regular choco chip, carrot cake, and oatmeal Raisin
- homemade smoothies with fresh mixed fruits
- homemade chocolate, banana (and sometimes peanut butter) protein shakes
- sauteed chopped brussel sprouts and baby bellas in organic butter with a dash of Lawrys seasoned salt
- baby spinach with olive oil and red wine vinegar lightly drizzled on top

and to keep myself from drinking soda, I've been trying random water mixy drinks... best one thus far has been ocean sprays 'white cran peach.' 

constantly having new food epiphanies. stay tuned for more!

everyone needs somebody.

Wrote this last night: "if a person is in need of someone and they have no one, you can't ignore them; would like to express this strongly as possible." Have been trying my best to help out a co-worker down here... she's 19, out of high school but no college yet, her parents just got divorced, and feels like she has no direction and that life is just a long road to death. Unbeknownst to me around the same time I had written that statement, a friend took his life when he probably needed someone... EVERYONE NEEDS SOMEBODY.
Jameson Lavo, though sometimes a rather tumultuous friend, was always there to give you a good chuckle with his colorful antics - and tell you stories in his signature bold, booming voice. One night when I was my lowest (and admittedly feeling as if it was the end for me,) him and another friend came to cheer me up, and I really wish I could have been there to do the same for him, even if it was just a phone call.
None of us should ever struggle alone.
While these will be confusing and tragic times for everyone who knew Jamie, I really hope something resonates within everyone: People are not dispensable. Please take good care of everyone you know. While it may be unbeknownst to you, they need you, just as you need them.