busblog

nothing in here is true

  1. Thursday, August 8, 2013

    it’s Opposite Day, in my head, all the time 

    blackhawk burgers

    i have a punk rock heart but my clothes, yikes.

    i have a punk rock spirit, but everything i do is so midwestern, so mundane, and now sooo old

    i have a rebellious nature, but i feel like i always put the brakes on things while encouraging others to rock

    i have a trusting soul, but boy does that burn me almost every single time

    Opposite Day is in my head, all the time: go out, stay in, write, dont write, paint, watch tv, read one of these books READ ALL OF THESE BOOKS

    i do all the normal things to keep the voices hushed but theyre lonely, they gab and gab and gab

    run away, stay home, fly somewhere, drive somewhere, sit your ass down,

    do nothing, do EVERYTHING, hike, run, swim, fart, ride the bus and stare

    walk down the street and talk.

    the only thing that ever makes sense is: do something omg SOMETHING

    and even though optimism and creativity and trust have the majority in the heart

    the minority filibusters and at the end of the day its 3am

    and aint nothing changed

    except the dilbert a day desk calendar

    and my expanding wasteline

  2. Friday, May 17, 2013

    bill murray on the last time he ever partied with gilda radner 

    bill murray and gilda radner on saturday night live

    Gilda got married and went away. None of us saw her anymore. There was one good thing: Laraine had a party one night, a great party at her house. And I ended up being the disk jockey. She just had forty-fives, and not that many, so you really had to work the music end of it. There was a collection of like the funniest people in the world at this party. Somehow Sam Kinison sticks in my brain. The whole Monty Python group was there, most of us from the show, a lot of other funny people, and Gilda. Gilda showed up and she’d already had cancer and gone into remission and then had it again, I guess. Anyway she was slim. We hadn’t seen her in a long time. And she started doing, “I’ve got to go,” and she was just going to leave, and I was like, “Going to leave?” It felt like she was going to really leave forever.

    So we started carrying her around, in a way that we could only do with her. We carried her up and down the stairs, around the house, repeatedly, for a long time, until I was exhausted. Then Danny did it for a while. Then I did it again. We just kept carrying her; we did it in teams. We kept carrying her around, but like upside down, every which way—over your shoulder and under your arm, carrying her like luggage. And that went on for more than an hour—maybe an hour and a half—just carrying her around and saying, “She’s leaving! This could be it! Now come on, this could be the last time we see her. Gilda’s leaving, and remember that she was very sick—hello?”

    We worked all aspects of it, but it started with just, “She’s leaving, I don’t know if you’ve said good-bye to her.” And we said good-bye to the same people ten, twenty times, you know.

    And because these people were really funny, every person we’d drag her up to would just do like five minutes on her, with Gilda upside down in this sort of tortured position, which she absolutely loved. She was laughing so hard we could have lost her right then and there.

    It was just one of the best parties I’ve ever been to in my life. I’ll always remember it. It was the last time I saw her.

     – Live from New York: an Uncensored History of Saturday Night Live