I never felt my heartstrings, until I nearly went insane.
My Dad finally called me, last night. It wasn't a good time, for him to call but I guess it never really is because just hearing his voice gives the sensation of being dragged behind a truck.
I asked him about his experiences at Woodstock and his drug usage. Maybe the drugs got to him, but he's extremely inconsistant in his story telling. It was a little disapointing, because the lastest version is less flourid. But I took it anyway to avoid one of my mom's boring ass "1960s in a small town in the South" stories.
"I think you and I have been fairly good to each other these past couple years, and that we've stayed in good touch." My dad says. Now this is a direct quotation, I mean this statement stuck in my mind. I'm not sure what I expected, maybe some sort of Bird on a Wire failure speech, but this was not it..
I don't mind the rain, but this is what really made it awful.
I would've liked to have finished, the other night, because sometimes I get so sick of people. But then I signed online and I read someone's nasty comment, and I realized one of the reasons that I absolutely LOVE to live, and that is to make it a pain in the ass for people like that.
I read it and I smiled, really slowly, I lit a cigarette, and I put on some Tom Waits.
There's nothing that makes me sicker to my stomach, then reading poorly developed sentences written by amatures who are merely most affect at communicating by destruction. And I use the word 'destruction' strictly, as it is the only thing that some people know. Bunny and I call these people 'Darwins'. I'm sure that if you are not the person who wrote that, or of the same inability, you will have no trouble asserting that definition. So, I'm cool again and I've got style, on your ass(not you're, (but yes, you are a dumbass)). I can say that in 5 languages, and you can't even type in english.
I never saw the East Coast, until I moved to the West.
Hasta chicos.
I asked him about his experiences at Woodstock and his drug usage. Maybe the drugs got to him, but he's extremely inconsistant in his story telling. It was a little disapointing, because the lastest version is less flourid. But I took it anyway to avoid one of my mom's boring ass "1960s in a small town in the South" stories.
"I think you and I have been fairly good to each other these past couple years, and that we've stayed in good touch." My dad says. Now this is a direct quotation, I mean this statement stuck in my mind. I'm not sure what I expected, maybe some sort of Bird on a Wire failure speech, but this was not it..
I don't mind the rain, but this is what really made it awful.
I would've liked to have finished, the other night, because sometimes I get so sick of people. But then I signed online and I read someone's nasty comment, and I realized one of the reasons that I absolutely LOVE to live, and that is to make it a pain in the ass for people like that.
I read it and I smiled, really slowly, I lit a cigarette, and I put on some Tom Waits.
There's nothing that makes me sicker to my stomach, then reading poorly developed sentences written by amatures who are merely most affect at communicating by destruction. And I use the word 'destruction' strictly, as it is the only thing that some people know. Bunny and I call these people 'Darwins'. I'm sure that if you are not the person who wrote that, or of the same inability, you will have no trouble asserting that definition. So, I'm cool again and I've got style, on your ass(not you're, (but yes, you are a dumbass)). I can say that in 5 languages, and you can't even type in english.
I never saw the East Coast, until I moved to the West.
Hasta chicos.