recent kicks
at the bottom of the glass is a meager sip.
well, not anymore. guess i gotta get a refill... [walking opens freezer opens fridge opens bottle opens carton pours stirs swallows ahhh.]
there thats better.
this cool white south african cat i know snacked me a couple of my recent kicks this afternoon.
so im a clever zombie now. can i nibble on just a wee bit of your brain? not too much, just a small bite.
im at this club and its yesterday night and there is this guy singing punk rock over jungle drums and glitch hop breaks wearing a scottish soccer tee on a stage burning under red hot illuminations and i think to myself -is this what people felt when they first saw rap or punk rock in the east village? this sense of seeing something new and fresh and thats not meant to be sold or marketed. then the guy starts to bore me and i think -no. this dudes just spazzing out and i mistook it for 'art'. whatever spazzy white dude. go on with your herky jerky cyber self. im sure its more than you were doing in Dayton or Louisville or where ever it was you took the bus to get here from.
the next guy [another white guy with bangs 'performing' on a laptop] was pretty good. jimmy edgar [add link when naked]. some new guy. his beats got a little bump to em. i aint hatin. i like him. he plays a weird science nerd techno meets timberland mixed with middle american acid house set that i kinda like.
a pretty girl gets her shirt attached to the velcro of my bag. i joke that that was my plan all along. that its a new technique ive come up with to meet girls. she laughs. her name is christine. my name is jon. we smile. her shirt is apparently mega delicate and made from the hair of infant leprechauns and it takes her about 15 minutes [in which i cant move because if i moved then it might rip her PRECIOUS SHIRT] to separate it from my bag. in that 15 minutes i grow insufferably annoyed because the club is scorching hot and im wearing my big coat and a sweater and holding this stupid bag which i cant move because i might rip that STUPID FUCKING SHIRT if i do. after a while im no longer smiling. finally we get divorced and she disappears into the crowd.
after a few drinks im done. i chat with some faces. clink my drink amongst various glasses. listened to some tunes and then im done. well, im not ENTIRELY done. i mean, i have a few more drinks after i get bored. you never know whats gonna happen if you leave too soon. this guy [link sam] knows what im talking about. i end up throwing in the towel at a pretty early hour. still im crazy late for work the next day.
thats about it. i know, boring update. but im trying to get a little consistent. eat it.
well, not anymore. guess i gotta get a refill... [walking opens freezer opens fridge opens bottle opens carton pours stirs swallows ahhh.]
there thats better.
this cool white south african cat i know snacked me a couple of my recent kicks this afternoon.
so im a clever zombie now. can i nibble on just a wee bit of your brain? not too much, just a small bite.
im at this club and its yesterday night and there is this guy singing punk rock over jungle drums and glitch hop breaks wearing a scottish soccer tee on a stage burning under red hot illuminations and i think to myself -is this what people felt when they first saw rap or punk rock in the east village? this sense of seeing something new and fresh and thats not meant to be sold or marketed. then the guy starts to bore me and i think -no. this dudes just spazzing out and i mistook it for 'art'. whatever spazzy white dude. go on with your herky jerky cyber self. im sure its more than you were doing in Dayton or Louisville or where ever it was you took the bus to get here from.
the next guy [another white guy with bangs 'performing' on a laptop] was pretty good. jimmy edgar [add link when naked]. some new guy. his beats got a little bump to em. i aint hatin. i like him. he plays a weird science nerd techno meets timberland mixed with middle american acid house set that i kinda like.
a pretty girl gets her shirt attached to the velcro of my bag. i joke that that was my plan all along. that its a new technique ive come up with to meet girls. she laughs. her name is christine. my name is jon. we smile. her shirt is apparently mega delicate and made from the hair of infant leprechauns and it takes her about 15 minutes [in which i cant move because if i moved then it might rip her PRECIOUS SHIRT] to separate it from my bag. in that 15 minutes i grow insufferably annoyed because the club is scorching hot and im wearing my big coat and a sweater and holding this stupid bag which i cant move because i might rip that STUPID FUCKING SHIRT if i do. after a while im no longer smiling. finally we get divorced and she disappears into the crowd.
after a few drinks im done. i chat with some faces. clink my drink amongst various glasses. listened to some tunes and then im done. well, im not ENTIRELY done. i mean, i have a few more drinks after i get bored. you never know whats gonna happen if you leave too soon. this guy [link sam] knows what im talking about. i end up throwing in the towel at a pretty early hour. still im crazy late for work the next day.
thats about it. i know, boring update. but im trying to get a little consistent. eat it.
posted by -jkg at
3:28 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home