Love

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#9hola Carnal

If my adversary does not move my center remains calm, if my adversary moves, I move first.-G.Razas

Charges: CC2709A OC Description: HARRASSMENT Grade: S Count: 001

THE COMPLAINANT IS A SCREENING OFFICER FOR THE TSA.  ON 2/15/11 AT APPROXIMATELY 2:00 PM, SHE WAS WORKING AT THE TERMINAL D/E SECURITY CHECKPOINT, SCREENING PASSENGERS WHEN THE DEFENDANT CAME THROUGH THE CHECKPOINT.  AFTER GATHERING HER BELONGINGS, THE DEFENDANT REACHED INTO ONE OF THE GRAY BINS AND GRABBED AN OBJECT.  THE DEFENDANT THEN APPROACHED THE COMPLAINANT, SAID, “THIS IS FOR YOU,” AND STRUCK THE COMPLAINANT IN THE HEAD WITH THE OBJECT.  THE COMPLAINANT FELT SOMETHING ON HER HEAD FALLING DOWN THE SIDE.  THE COMPLAINANT WAS STARTLED AND IN DISBELIEF.  HER CO-WORKERS APPROACHED HER TO SEE IF SHE WAS ALL RIGHT.  SHE FOUND OUT THAT THE OBJECT WAS A HOLLOWED OUT CHICKEN EGG THAT HAD BEEN FILLED WITH PAPER CONFETTI AND SEALED.

THE SECURITY VIDEO SHOWED THE DEFENDANT GRABBING THE EGG AFTER HITTING THE COMPLAINANT IN THE HEAD WITH IT, AND THEN CRUMBLING IT UP, EMPTYING ALL OF THE CONFETTI ONTO THE HEAD OF THE COMPLAINANT, THEN LAUGHED AS SHE FINISHED.

fan letter#8

Existential moment: Coffee?s on,full moon & sunrise,washing my behind w/ the garden hose.Liking my new scar.Tomorrow will wear a bandana and earrings,looking like a pirate with great tits.Back swinging a hammer,both arms casted,post surgery.Can?t stop an old stripper.Big Love,KatyD

#7

yo jim, was up, im comin out east at the end of march and was thinkin of swingin down to philly. i was hoping to get a phone number or somethin if yur gunna be around. id like to catch up get a beer fuck shit up or whatever. wait a minute i just realized that your in austin texas…….fuck, i was just there this past summer. my band played at uh this place called……..fuckin the hole in the wall. shit. anyway it would have been cool to see you ,…….next time. holla back at ya boy………….jay.

untitled poem found in a warehouse

Fear not the aching dividedness,
the collision of the Kings and Queens,
the shimmer of the seasons shooting by.

by Jim McShea

#6

It’s easy doll, evolution, fruition, and self-awareness is how.  You’ve got the key under your tongue.  See you at work my little grasshopper, it’s temporary at best.

momento mori, B

Cream&Sugar

“What song you wanna play maaaan?!”

The dude was everything I hated about everything.

“Hungry Heart.”  I said.  I had my longsleeve bleed green Eagles mock jersey on and a cup of Bud Lite.

During the “na-na-na-na-na” part I noticed a south Philly betty in a denim skirt and chick jersey dancing and making eyes at me.  Then she started saying, mouthing something at me.  I couldn’t believe it my rock and roll dream was finally coming true.  I walked out into the crowd towards her.  I tried to take her hands and pull her in close to dance.  I didn’t see her Bud Lite cup and somehow managed to spill her beer all over her stomach and legs.

“No!” she shouted over the D-bags botched chords.

“I’m so sorry!, I said, “I thought you wanted to dance!”

“No it’s ok.  I was saying you should TIP him.”

“Oh.”

Tip him?  For printing out chord charts of the oldies and playing his guitar in the parking lot at a football game?

Try playing above an Ethiopian restaurant in a bar the size of a 1br apartment for 4 years, Dave Matthews.  He should be tipping me!

I still wanted her though.  I walked over to the guy and pulled the ones from the night before out of my pocket.  I put them in his bucket.  He finished the song.

“Thanks maaan!”  he said.

I reached into the bucket.  I pulled out the ones with the sharpee messages on them.

“Look man!”  I beamed, pointing out “I fuck men” and “Jim is Gay” on the money.  “I’m Jim!” I exclaimed.  “I am Jim!”

Sometimes your own enthusiasm is all that stands between you and a hostile situation.  No one wants to get angry with you if you’re happy.  Even if they do your joy will often confuse them long enough for you to get away.

Me and Mark would literally bring the roof down at the Khyber that night.  It was a Hostile City Dance Party and our Guns N Roses weekend was far from over.

 

The Minutes 2/9/11

The chamber clicked three times in Egypt this week.  I’d rather not get jiggy about things like Freedom until I see how the chips finally lay on Election Day.  Kind of like over here in the USA except Washington may have to use stronger tactics in Little Egypt than PR.

Starvation sanctions and paltry Self Defense programs ought to motivate the newest members of Imperialist Democracy.  If you want to talk about Egypt, talk to Lawrence Wright. 

He was on Fresh Air last week, one of my favorite Texan writers on my favorite radio show.  Hot Damn.  I would have written about it the day it aired but the casual shitslide of useless events on most days is numbing.  Most days you play with yourself and walk down to the mailbox 2 or 3 times.  Then something will happen like Lawrence Wright on the radio.  It’ll jolt the mind.  The 24hour news cycle won’t wait for the body to burn off last night’s Tequila and history won’t wait for a hack like me to write about it.

Wright has spent some time in Egypt teaching English for years at American University in Cairo.  Having written the excellent, Pulitzer Prize winning The Looming Tower:  Al-Qaeda and the Road to 9/11 he is also quite knowledgeable about Al-Qaeda and the Muslim Brotherhood. 

“I’m just praying Egypt will become one of the great countries as it should be.”-Lawrence Wright on Fresh Air

Put that on yr facebook you dirty American whores.  Or, instead of posting Nike Ad type-sentiments and Bangles’ songs so we all know you’re liberal, you should go right to the source.  Just ask Facebook.

That’s what Wael Ghonim did.  Oh and 

“If you want to free a society, just give them internet access,” the Google marketing manager said in a CNN interview with Wolf Blitzer.  Hmm.

Several heavy and twisted things come to mind.  Hopefully things like Net Neutrality will come into better focus for you once you’re done waving your HTML Freedom Banner. 

Maybe you’d rather be a guitar hero but even Guitar Hero’s hanging it up in these dismal times.  After creating a “whole new Generation of Classic Rock fans” (never has the machinery of our Rock n Roll been summed up so concisely).  There will be no more new versions of this, most abhorrent of video games.  Fat lawyers will have to talk wit me at their parties now-maybe ask me to “rip some tubes” or watch some porn.  It’s the minute’s people, the news.  You wanted it.  There you go, Brother.

Can you imagine a world where Julian Assange is kept in Guantanamo?  Can you imagine a society without a free internet…or-can you imagine something as horrible as Bad Weather Make Up Days?  Surely there is nothing worse.  Snow days can potentially loosen students’ atheist tendencies.  On the day of this writing the whole town of Austin was shut DOWN for 1/16” of the stuff (that was gone by 5pm) so now kids will have to be in school well into June, for Christ.  Hip the little cretins early in life so they know that there is no escape. 

I got the cream, I got the sugar.    

Now that that’s all over with go be a real hero.  If you want some hard news read the New York Times or Noam Chomsky.  I have to get on a plane.

Ciaou my little Valentines.xo

winning

Winning is subjective when you’re a survivor.  Victory is everyday when you’re a champion.  I keep a keen eye on my losses most of the time.  No one wants to be a loser because eventually you bring it on yourself.  Many have taken the deathtrip and they will take you down with them if can.  I’m just waiting for the nice girl who lives across the greenbelt to come out on her terrace and listen to me play guitar but all she really has to do is look at me.

The sun is out and the boss is on the phone.  I’m in the Operations Room preparing to bathe, do laundry and gear down for another week in Rock n Roll City.  I like activity and I like winning.  I figure I’ve got 35 more years of a somewhat active life and this is Victory for an old soldier like me.  All I have I carried and I’m jaded and bitter by too many memories from too many dawns in uninsulated houses on wasted roads.  I am what they call “Too Far Gone” and I model my circadian rhythms after the Bat. 

I’m happy to watch the sun go down as the winds of time blow on.  Nothing doing.  That is until we launch.  What I’m really gearing down for is the blizzard of shit I must accomplish before I get on that plane next week and before I end up in Hostile City in the spring. 

All that matters is the Work.  It’s all that mattered then and its all that matters now.  I am a workaholic manbat trying to make my dreams come true.  I have had many jewels of nights safe in the strength of solitude.  If winning was everything we would’ve said quit a long time ago. 

Tomorrow comes too quickly and not soon enough besides.  Your warm body in my bed ought to take the prize.

Momento Mori.