Collected Drivel & Other Nancy Drew Adventures

Thoughtless Blurb #1. Been listening to a lot of Soul Coughing/Mike Doughty lately. Also, a lot of time spent at Doughty's rather stately blog . For this yesteryear-flavored excursion into (Not so) popular media, I blame Mer. The man lays down language in the same manner a boat maker makes boats. The pieces just fit in a fashion that you can't imagine them staying afloat any other way. For example:

"Easy places to get away to.
Easy limbs languid all around you.
All my time is
Dirt on your hands.
Fingers drifting
Down my spine now."

That's the first verse of "Soundtrack to Mary." I highly suggest you checking it out (it being the entire Doughty/Coughing catalog).

Thoughtless Blurb #2. Is it just me or does the fact that it's Christmas make a lot of presumably priorly irate strangers even the more so irritable? I understand that Christmas is both a little commercial and a lot expensive, but the people I'm referring to seem to be pissed off because it's God's kid's birthday and not their own. On a related note, watching someone be pissed at something they don't think exists is both perplexing and cute.

Thoughtless Blurb #3. I'm at least sixteen steps beyond being ready for Savannah on New Year's. As someone who's pretty well involved in my local bar circuit, I have to say the idealism of not being confined to one lone bar; being able to grab a Bloody Mary at a joint that specializes in Bloody Maries and carrying it over to meet your pal at a bar that offers 500 different beer selections, is something to get excited about. Especially from a smoker's point of view, as I believe the streets of Savannah were made with the thoughtful smoker in mind. Smoking a cigarette while looking out at the river from River Street makes any thought seem both bohemian and epic. Also, those beignets from Huey's rock my soon-to-be-Diabetic world. Skookum!

Thoughtless Blurb #4. Douche chill, side buttoned, and soiled dove all have meanings I was unaware of.

Thoughtless Blurb #5. I totally miss Arrested Development.

A Sad Truth.

(I walk into the pub to meet my co-workers. The waitress greets me and we hug.)

ME: (Sitting down)

CO-WORKER: (jaw dropped)

ME: What?

CO-WORKER: If you’re able to walk into a bar and hug the waitress, you can be pretty sure that you have a problem.

ME: I actually like to think of it as having the solution.

* - I actually stole this off of Greg's kickass Geese Aplenty because I can't help but relate to it.

Go ahead, watch the pilot.

Excerpts from Barry's journal:

    August 18th, 2003
    "How can something you're so excited about be so fucking small? I mean, Jesus, I don't feel a fucking thing. It's like I'm being molested by a beached dolphin with a thimble attached to it." Shelia said. I did not, nor do I now, know how to respond to this.

    March 23rd, 2004  
    I haven't written in a while, Diary, and for that I apologize. But something today my father said really needed to be written down I think. He said, "I tell you what, Son. That mom of yours is an evil, heartless cunt. But I'll be God-damned if she can't suck a dick like there's no tomorrow. She's even better than that Shelia girl you used to know, not to even mention your Grandmother." Sometimes I wish Dad had more guy friends.

    May 5th, 2004
    Today I asked Grandma why she hasn't made her famous blueberry buckle since Granddaddy died. I mean it's been almost five years and I could understand it if he liked it a lot, but I don't recall him ever eating it (Not once!). Then she told me it wasn't because she was trying to honor him or anything. It's because she can't. Apparently the secret ingredient was Granddaddy's semen. I don't think I can ever eat blueberries again.

    November 22nd, 2004    I don't think I like my family too much. Especially my Dad. I've been seeing this really nice girl named Naomi that I met in the drug recovery program I've been attending. She's smart, very pretty, funny, and a recovering cocaine addict. Anyways, Mom wanted me to invite her over for Thanksgiving dinner with the family so they could get to know her more. Everything was fine except Naomi started acting very weird, which at first I thought was just her being nervous but it turned out that Dad was putting cocaine in her glass of wine. He had apparently been doing this all night, because by the end of it he was telling her she could only have another glass of wine if she went upstairs with him and "earned it." That was four days ago and I still haven't seen her, not even at Drug Recovery meetings. I hate my Dad sometimes.

My Favorite Drawing of My Dad: