Its Ok, its alright, my little droogies. Be not poogly. Alex is back and does he ever have a tale to tell! Grab a glass of milk from the bar and understand fully the ultraviolence in ma gulliver.
So, Im in Boca for a couple of days. Ah, now I see why folks be livin there. Its like a paradise or someshit. Mid 80s. Blue sky. Warm sea water lapping my ankles. Can life be like this?
As Im standing on a sand bar about 30 feet out, I realize that in this idyllic setting Im on my cell phone. Ah, technology and nature. Are they incompatible? I felt a bit like mad King Goll. No sword for me to fight the waves. A simple Sprint enabled Samsung is all Ive got. And truth be told, the waves are fighting with me, not against me. They serve as the perfect backdrop to call and let my friends know where I am. Im such a bastard.
Hey, at least Im doing something. King Goll was mad, but damn if he wasnt active. Not like that other sandy poem Dover Beach. Ugh. Cling to this! Sure true love is all that its about uh, huh Hide in the night with your lover and bury your head. Personally Id rather be in the sun having a few beers and daiquiris courtesy of the Embassy Suites free (yes, I said FREE) happy hour. Standing on the beach, staring at the sea never seems quite as nice without a blood alcohol count of less that .05, yes?
But I digress.
So I fly back to the lovely place Im calling home. Fucking weather is raining and cold. Goddamn it. Where am I?
You know, its one thing to intellectually know that the area of the country you live in is a piece of shit, but to have it rubbed in your face like this is almost poetic in a way.(perhaps why Im writing with refs to poems? You gentle readers are sharp. I knew youd get it!)
Goodbye ocean view, 80 degree weatherhello stinky, wet, cold armpit!
Screechscreechdoooghtouchdown.
First thing I do is go get a haircut. Hey! My pretty-boy good looks dont come cheap. So I go to the place I always go. The stylist proceeds to wash my hair like normal. Whats not normal about this particular trip is the way she then proceeds to shoot a jet of water right down my back. My shirt is sopping wet. Ha fuckin ha! Wanted a haircut not a shower. Looks like I got both. Bonus!
As Im sitting there, fuming about the rain, the cold and my damp back, I realize that the capacity for violence in my mind is pretty great. Yeah, thats right sweetie, you just blow your shitty breath right on my face. That wintergreen gum youre chewing doesnt do fuck about covering up that 3 pack a day habit you got. Ahhh, smokey-mint. Perfume of the gods. I wonder what those scissors would look like poking out of your nose?
Why couldnt I have gotten the good-looking, young woman to do my hair like normal? Not my lucky day I guess.
At least I get to go back out into the rain. And hey, theres work tomorrow! Yeah! Lifes a great big dream. Its happy-funland here! Sugar and balloons and potholes, and stupid accents and the weatherdid I mention the weather?
God, I hate itfucking hate it.when people say its just the weather. Itll get better.
Cant base your life around the weather!
Why the hell not? It really bothers me. We all want happiness right? Why does it have to be so fucking hard when even the weather is so upsetting? Jesus!
I need a vacation.
-rozehead
So, Im in Boca for a couple of days. Ah, now I see why folks be livin there. Its like a paradise or someshit. Mid 80s. Blue sky. Warm sea water lapping my ankles. Can life be like this?
As Im standing on a sand bar about 30 feet out, I realize that in this idyllic setting Im on my cell phone. Ah, technology and nature. Are they incompatible? I felt a bit like mad King Goll. No sword for me to fight the waves. A simple Sprint enabled Samsung is all Ive got. And truth be told, the waves are fighting with me, not against me. They serve as the perfect backdrop to call and let my friends know where I am. Im such a bastard.
Hey, at least Im doing something. King Goll was mad, but damn if he wasnt active. Not like that other sandy poem Dover Beach. Ugh. Cling to this! Sure true love is all that its about uh, huh Hide in the night with your lover and bury your head. Personally Id rather be in the sun having a few beers and daiquiris courtesy of the Embassy Suites free (yes, I said FREE) happy hour. Standing on the beach, staring at the sea never seems quite as nice without a blood alcohol count of less that .05, yes?
But I digress.
So I fly back to the lovely place Im calling home. Fucking weather is raining and cold. Goddamn it. Where am I?
You know, its one thing to intellectually know that the area of the country you live in is a piece of shit, but to have it rubbed in your face like this is almost poetic in a way.(perhaps why Im writing with refs to poems? You gentle readers are sharp. I knew youd get it!)
Goodbye ocean view, 80 degree weatherhello stinky, wet, cold armpit!
Screechscreechdoooghtouchdown.
First thing I do is go get a haircut. Hey! My pretty-boy good looks dont come cheap. So I go to the place I always go. The stylist proceeds to wash my hair like normal. Whats not normal about this particular trip is the way she then proceeds to shoot a jet of water right down my back. My shirt is sopping wet. Ha fuckin ha! Wanted a haircut not a shower. Looks like I got both. Bonus!
As Im sitting there, fuming about the rain, the cold and my damp back, I realize that the capacity for violence in my mind is pretty great. Yeah, thats right sweetie, you just blow your shitty breath right on my face. That wintergreen gum youre chewing doesnt do fuck about covering up that 3 pack a day habit you got. Ahhh, smokey-mint. Perfume of the gods. I wonder what those scissors would look like poking out of your nose?
Why couldnt I have gotten the good-looking, young woman to do my hair like normal? Not my lucky day I guess.
At least I get to go back out into the rain. And hey, theres work tomorrow! Yeah! Lifes a great big dream. Its happy-funland here! Sugar and balloons and potholes, and stupid accents and the weatherdid I mention the weather?
God, I hate itfucking hate it.when people say its just the weather. Itll get better.
Cant base your life around the weather!
Why the hell not? It really bothers me. We all want happiness right? Why does it have to be so fucking hard when even the weather is so upsetting? Jesus!
I need a vacation.
-rozehead
VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
stacie:
a hob-knobber, eh? does sound interesting!!!! *pulls ear foreward* 
reina_confundida:
Meow. Why do all of the Prov boys seem to be hiding behind funky but nondescript profile pics, hmmmmm?