COMPLICATED LIFE

Google image search is the new tea leaves. I say “tea leaves” instead of “crystal ball” or whatever because it doesn’t present you with literal answers, just a relevant image to contemplate, and, by contemplating, realize what was on your mind anyway. Which is why I think the tarot is like fifty percent hustle and fifty percent legit. 

Let’s say that I ask google image search, “How do I get hustle in the summertime?”. In turn, google image search gives me this:

You know.

And also this:

Some ox.

And then this:

Ray Davies is going to be SO MAD.

I guess that means that if you want to get hustle in the summer time, you’re going to have to suck it up and get some work done (like an ox, right) but you shouldn’t forget to have some fun, shave your stage name initials into the side of your head, and fucking chill it out by rolling up those shirt sleeves at the end of a long hot day. And don’t forget that you’re just a playboy. No matter what she said.

CONTINUED EFFORTS TO WREST “QUEEN OF ALL MEDIA” TITLE FROM OPRAH/PEREZ HILTON CONTINUE APACE

I know the Daily Texan only covered my poetry reading because summer is slow news times for the campus paper. That’s fine. I don’t care. Check it out: http://media.www.dailytexanonline.com/media/storage/paper410/news/2008/07/11/University/Featured.Photo.between.The.Lines-3390141.shtml

Also, unrelated to me (somewhat), they’re having a big old state senate scandal back home, which, in its most lurid iteration, involves a girl I interned with at Rep. DeWeese’s office accepting a ghost job in exchange for sex. This is the Philadelphia Enquirer story–I’d post the local paper’s version, except the Philly reporter obviously had a lot more fun trotting out the seamy details (disgraced former beauty queen, dingy office above a cigar shop in Pittsburgh). This girl and I interned together the summer after my freshman year at CMU, when saying that you were interning for a Democrat still got you some “have some more lipgloss, Monica” giggles, and she didn’t do any work then, either. I remember one day working on some big mailing for a deadline, and pretty much spending all day on it while Angie dicked around on the internet, occasionally asking me how, for example, to spell karaoke. And I would go, K-A-R-A-O-K-E and she would go, “No, I don’t think that’s right.” I guess I should keep stories like this on hand for anybody who thinks my stories about southwestern Pennsylvania are too surreal or ironic.

COHORTS

 

 

OH HI.

No chat? CONFUSE!

I AM A HAMMER

True. I will be reading some poems at the newly established Riot Ink reading series. If you go to their blog you can read up on the recent featured writers and also find a picture and bio of yours truly. What will you learn from doing so? Well, you’ll learn that the reading is on Thursday, July 10th at Austin Java (1206 Parkway), that it begins at 7:00 PM, and also that I have one of those crooked Katie Holmes smiles, the smirky kind where it looks like half of your face is paralyzed. Well, my face. It makes me feel kind of bad for poking fun at poor Katie’s smile in “Batman Begins.” Pot, meet kettle, etc.

In addition, the official Keene Prize press release hits the internets today. If you must know, the committee says some pretty nice things about how I’m a quirky, sharp observer. Not like you didn’t know. But it’s good to have it in writing.

So my point is, be a pal and come to the reading. There’s always the possibility that I’ll dedicate a poem to you. There’s always the possibility I have written a poem about some funny shit you said one night at the bar. Do you remember that night? You were on fire.