i said i want two cases of bottled water,

50 boxes of nitrous, a case of hershey bars, 600 green m&m’s, and three cots for my boys.

the president said that there are plenty of beds in the white house and i said that cots would be fine.

and just like that it was agreed, i would fly to washington dc to play twelve games of scrabble against twelve members of the white house staff.

if i won, i wouldn’t have to pay taxes this year and queen latifah would win the oscar for best supporting actress.

if i lost, i would have to do a pro-war photo essay for the president.

at first it was just supposed to be me playing scrabble against the president but that was overruled immediately by his advisors.

apparently my literature degree from uc isla vista intimidated all those yalies.

i complained that i was on vacation and i didn’t want to fly anywhere and i didn’t want to do anything, that all i wanted to do was laze about my beach house, sipping wine, and alphabetize my adult film collection.

then like a fool i added that i had to do my taxes.

to which they asked me if it wouldn’t be worth one quick flight across the country and maybe i might not have to “worry” about taxes this year.

when they suggested playing scrabble i thought that i should have asked for one of those flat plasma tv’s earlier cuz i could sure use one a them.

but since they wouldn’t let me continue to negotiate the purse, i went back to the demands of my rider.

and i only want to see Black people at the white house. as many as you’ve got.

and i want the pool to be like 95 degrees, and i want ac/dc playing on the stereos, and i want to see whatever files you have on the hilton sisters.

i love those girls.

then one of them started asking me about raymi and i said i didn’t know anything about her.

they asked if i knew her real name, and i said yes.

then they said, see you know stuff about her.

then they asked for me to tell them her name and i told them i wouldn’t.

then they asked me if i knew her address.

i told them that i knew her old address.

then they said that she was hot and they wanted to get her phone number.

then one of them asked another one of them if they’d ever kissed a canadian girl, and one of them said that they had and the other said that he hadn’t. then a third said that he thinks so. then he realized that he really didn’t, she was from nebraska.

then they asked me if i had kissed a canadian girl and i thought about it for a little while

if i was a computer i would have had an hourglass over my head

and then i said

no.

no i hadn’t kissed a canadian girl.

and then i really didn’t want to play any damn scrabble.

american protester girl gets killed by a tractor that’s about to tear down a house

true love:

and it’s weird.
true love: like they should be covering the deadline or something.
dumbass: oooooooooh
true love: is she meeing you?
dumbass: didnt even think of that
dumbass: i jsut wrote her
dumbass: i dont know
true love: well, i hope she makes it.
dumbass:

hopefully she already knew abou tit
dumbass: me too!
dumbass: i got up at 2pm!
true love: haha.
true love: did you go to bed after 3 am?
dumbass: i wanted to write more about you on my blog
dumbass: 630am
true love: on no.
true love: you wrote enough.
dumbass: im glad how it turned out
dumbass: i didnt want it to be sad
true love: i don’t think it was.
dumbass: i wanted to write about how i hold your hand and its perfect
dumbass:

just being with you is so perfect
true love: i agree.
dumbass: just how the police were on tv
dumbass: but its obvious that they are over
dumbass: and sad, cuz individually theyre nothing
true love: sting did ok.
dumbass: for a while
dumbass: but now who cares about him?
true love: true
true love: his wife does…he holds out …
true love: :-)
dumbass: i was so emotional watching that thing yesterday at this time
dumbass: my whole childhood/hshood
dumbass: angus and malcom didnt say a word of acceptance
true love:wow
dumbass: so punk rock
true love: i told you they didn’t seem into it.
dumbass: nope
true love: could care less.
dumbass: and steven tyler was dumb singing with them
dumbass: so unneccessary
true love: lame
dumbass: ok well i just wanted to say hi
dumbass:

didnt mean to bug ya
true love: i’m sooo happy you did.
true love: :-)
true love: you never bug me love…
dumbass: want some porn?
true love: did you really like the hours?
dumbass: YES!
true love: (uh, no)
true love: yeah!!!
dumbass: havent finished it
dumbass: i have a little left
true love: so amazing the stories

get tied together.
dumbass: it got me thinking about you a LOT
dumbass: so well done~!
dumbass: seamless
true love: and the acting is great.
dumbass: yesyes
true love: well, enjoy.
dumbass: you too
true love: finish it soon.
dumbass: i love you so much
true love: i’ll tell Gene you say hello.
dumbass: you looked so good on sat
dumbass: please do
true love: thanks tony.
dumbass: xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
true love: xoxoxo you too. bathtub girl

when i was prime minister of denmark

i had motherfuckers tossing red paint on my ass all the damn time.

pissed me off.

then there were the jokers with the creme pies and the hippies with the spray paint and the fuckers with water balloons, and the ingrates with the silly string.

but all that shit stopped the first time that i kicked one of those cocksuckers in the nads with my doc martins.

“you have blood on your hands!” they shrieked.

and i said, “no it isnt you smelly fuck, it’s paint!” and i slapped them with the back of my hand and they crumpled like a burning spider.

pathetic. weasly. laying there on the marble floor hands protecting their face like i was going to actually kick them there.

cover your nuts man! i would tell them. your face? who are you kidding?

then blam blam blam right in the family jewels and then they sure squirmed.

one reason nobody is into this war is cuz everyone involved are a bunch of fucking assholes.

only guy worth his salt is tony blair but because he’s sucking dubya’s cock so hard it’s hard to get behind him. and why is britian so up in arms anyway? gas over there has been over $4/gallon since forever. $4 or $4.50 is pretty much the same thing. especially when we’re complaining when it gets to a whopping $2.19.

currently there are two sorts of leaders: the incredibly lame wimpy stupid ones like the ruler of the free world, and the agressively tyrannical rapist murderer ones like the Tribune Corp., oops, i mean, like sadaam.

and theres very little in the middle.

wasnt Bill Clinton in the middle? why yes, he was. and he was perfect. and we had eight years of peace and prosperity. only troubles this country had during that time was within the beltway and under the hemline. the way it oughtta be.

meanwhile i was in denmark in the parking garages where the protesters would sometimes meet me. regularilly foiling them in their attempt to let the air out of my tires, i would chase after a few of them and then play a little game called punch the pm in the gut, fucker.

i would lift my shirt and i’d say hit me you spoiled little babies but then i get to hit you back.

and they’d punch me and i would wince and then i would roll up my sleeve and every single time it would only take one punch and they were flat on their asses with their piercings jingling and their drealocks flailing and their birkenstocks flying off.

i’d pick them up off the ground and i would shake their hands and say next time you fucking smartasses want to get my attention email me, write me, or lift up your shirts during a press conference. but this paint on my fucking brooks brothers is totally not cool. cant you see how well this shit fits!

and then theyd stutter some fucking art school bullshit and look at the ground and maybe puke from the punch and i’d say write it in an email and send it to me and i will think about it and write you back with probably like 50 reasons why you’re wrong about this, your stupid tattoos and probably everything in your record collection.

kmfdm? you’ve Got to be kidding me.

and then theyd run home and tell all their friends.

i slept until two today and i feel like a total god.

alabama whoorley

i don’t cry.

my eyes mist up, but that’s all you’ll get.

last week quite a few people were testing the boundaries of this phenomena, but i suppose that’s the nature of the month of pisces, so it’s futile to take it personally.

tonight the academy girls came over early just in case i was going to go out drinking. they had the hours. they wanted to make sure that i was going to watch it.

one of the girls even said that she would hold my hand during it and i tried it for about ten minutes but it was too uncomfortable.

some girls i can hold hands with, some i cant.

theres a girl who im really close with but we cant hold hands.

theres another girl who im not close with any more at all, and her hand fits perfect in mine.

none of it makes any sense.

i watched the hours and thought of all the women ive ever known. i even thought about this super hot chick in high school who i never knew liked me that way. she had a boyfriend who i set her up with, still we went to the movies the day high school ended. we went cuz she knew i was moving to california forever.

after the movie she gave me a freedom kiss.

but she did it half assed. she barely opened her mouth. she barely let her tongue over to my side of the world. the thought counted. i had no idea why she asked me out in the first place. i had no idea why we went to the movies. and after she kissed me it all made sense and i bounced around my house like a spaz and my mom thought i was on drugs.

here we are about 80 years later and some girls can make me bounce around my house like a spaz and i thought about those magical girls as i stroked the fingers of the academy girl and tried to pay attention to the film, but philip glass has always mesmerized me and the music he made for the hours is now instantly my favorite of his. i think it’s cuz he’s using a little more piano than normal. it really fills out the sound.

the familiar counterpoint of the cellos are there and the trademark runs going up and down the scales followed by the staccato quarter notes, but the piano as opposed to the synthesizer nearly made me cry it was so pretty and unexpected.

went to outback steak house this weekend with a girl who can cry and then laugh and then cry again out of no where. she thinks that equals crazy. but shes crazy to think that. shes wonderful and right with you which is why her emotions are there too, even in a benz convertible, even in burbank, even with me driving.

even though its a stick i still grab her hand whenever i can and bring it with me when i change gears. we haven’t been naked in months but she still lets me rest my hand on her thigh and we’ll hold hands longer than we planned but not in a lovey dovey way, more like a you complete me mini me way. the funny part of it. not the sad caramel nougat truth center.

she does complete me.

but be careful cuz dirt completes us when we die, and worms do too, so watch it.

i smile and sing while she drives.

it would have been nice to say any of this to the academy girl. after all, she had written me, her name is very memorable, but i didn’t tell her that i knew who she was, i just traced the outline of her skinny lil digits bejeweled and bangled and her friend went home. she asked me if i was liking the film and i said yes. a lot. but i told her that i was falling asleep.

she asked if i wanted to pause it or stop it or

i said, lets just go to sleep and finish it in the morning.

she pulled a strand of her dyed hair behind her ear and blushed, the latest victim of the assumptive close.

i told her that i had a pair of clean flannel pajamas in the second drawer, then i remembered the huge box of condoms in the third drawer and got up and retrieved the pjs myself. people get the wrong idea.

she looked sleepy and hopeful and i told her that i would be writing for a few hours, that she shouldn’t wait up for me.

and out came the lower lip, exaggeratingly.

cute.

she dragged her feet into the bathroom, water was turned on, i thought about breaking open one of my many ninety nine cent store guest toothbrushes for her, but she’s a college girl, she should pack a toothbrush.

sat down to the computer and turned on howard stern live from new york.

simultaneously the christmas lights clicked off due to the light timer behind the tv, which meant it was three am.

the perfect hour for anything.

and i sat in the dark watching the rock n roll hall of fame induction and the clash nearly did it and elvis costello nearly did it, and ac/dc was super close to doing it.

but when the police came out and i heard stewart copeland play exactly like how he did in nineteen eighty three, so subtilely on the high hat

i teared up cuz it was so perfect

and yet absolutely over.

42. Robin J.

blue bukkake + an okie in paris + luke ford