Utah Journey Part Dos

Ladders, super cairn, crack chillin, fun with uno, rob in a hole, hole n' the rock(doesn't actually exist).

Utah Journey

Basically the Utah story is thus: We walked and saw cool shit. The pictures tell the story, and don't really need captions.











Perhaps a few fragments: Matt was very excited about footbaths and ladders. Kate won the care-free camper award. About 20 points were awarded for things like lizard seeing, enjoying it, getting high at lunch, footprint tracking, and uno. There was an extremely disheveled hiker. We made an ultimate cairn. We made an illegal fire, ate mushrooms, and dreaded the phone call, "hello, matt? This is Utah. What the hell" Matt is greedy about starts and weird about whiskey, according to kate. Live dirt. The chemistry of freeze-dried beer. "that's where the sand-people park their dinosaur."

Crazy Brooklyn guy ranting about Starbucks....pretty funny.

Right back atchya

Hair you go

Hairy baby picture. Now I seem to recall something about some tits.

Aiden?

Tit for tat:
Here's a picture from the shower...



Now I want to see some hairy baby.
Uncle Crafty, perhaps...?

"I want these motherfucking snakes off the motherfucking plane!"

Just one of the many gems awaiting you in the upcoming Samual Jackson thriller, Snakes On
A Plane.

Poetry?

Slam poetry is a recent fascination of mine. There is a place to see stand-up poetry for free in every one of your towns, probably multiple times a week. It's highly recommended, you hear some incredible shit, and this is not coming from someone who spends their time reading Ginsberg or could confidently tell you what Iambic Pentameter is. SO I got a little into it ("..just tryin to find something real in this world" -outkast), and decided to write my own. It was my first time reading anything personal in front of a crowd, or really taken the stage in life at all. I decided it should be done at the biggest one in Denver, which actually has a stage and a mic. I was rather nervous and my paper was shaking in probably 2 inch oscillations, but that was half the point...

Why I'm Up Here
I'm up here to improve how I make my living. But I don't mean money that I may be given. The greatest art form is a life well lived, and this is a bright red stroke on the piece I'll leave to my kids.

I'm up here because I've put so many balls into goals and holes and pockets that I had to stop it because with each shot hit, I cared less if I dropped it. And lately I feel the thrill of victory every time I write a rhyme that might be the hot shit.

I'm up here because I know one day I'll harvest these emotions and use the fuel to jump start a night. Or a night's sleep. Fuck sheep. I count finished phases of fear and emotional exhaustion when I'm sleep's orphan. Funny that when thought's flow is so deep that sleep won't come cheap, we're told to bring it to the shallows by counting the animal that follows. There's more than one way to rest, and sedation isn't the best. An easy day might be the easy way, but I'm like, I know I'll sleep well tonight.

I'm up here because walking on hot coals strengthens soles.

I'm up here because I've always wanted to penetrate an audience. I want to penetrate life. I want to die knowing that I have sampled every jou on the planet, as a joy connoisseur. I'm married to life and well, this is how I do 'er. And whether this addiction is an affliction or the proper disposition is based on peripheral vision, because we've got to see more than just our mission.

I'm up here nervous and ecstatic because the first time is always the most interesting. I've been waiting for it for so long and I'm doing it. I took some soft ideas and made 'em hard and I'm putting them somewhere they've never been, somewhere human and I'm sweating and awkward and I'm probably doing it wrong, but I'm doing it!...and it feels-...wait..remember to slow down...relax...enjoy it.

I'm up here because everyone has a deep-seeded need to plan their seed. And there's no more fertile soil than a room full of people who have discontinued their daily dosage of idea birth control, and were thus freed from distraction's sedation, and have gathered to feed their addiction to propositions.

I'm up here because leaps make you feel alive -- but this time, when I look down I don't see shadows of skis stretched on snow so far below that it could bury that life.

I'm up here as part of my timeless research into natural highs. To report back to my alcohol and smoke soaked subculture that my answer to the question is an empirical blessing of exhaustion and expressing.

I'm up here because I'm seeking a solution to my lack of revolution.

I'm up here because life isn't supposed to be comfortable, and when it starts to blur by and all you hear at night is that "tick....tick...tick", you gotta put your conscous camera somewhere scenic and full your ears with that "click....click..click." And it's scary tests that are picteresque, that's why they call it a shudder.

I'm up here because I love the shivers I got from you givers, so you know what, it's because of you I'm a poet.

What's the deal with

Moab

Saturday's averted phone call to Driver Dave

So Liz says to me, "Would you like to smoke a bowl?" "Why yeah, I would love to to have some marijuana. Thank you." Said I.
But then my neighbor Kareem says, "Look, you don't have any weed in here."
Disappointed, I passed the pipe back and said, "Here you go." Liz was also disappointed.
And then Kareem said, "Why don't you call Driver Dave the delivery guy, here's your phone."
I hate calling people so I decided to look into my other jar just in case.
YAY! We all got stoned!

Awards

So, I've heard that Philip Seymour Hoffman has won 23 awards for Capote this year. I'm all for awarding filmmakers and actors, but this is just plain excessive.

Solution 1: Each person can pick only one award for which they may be considered. If they are confident, they might chose the Oscars. If less so, the Globes. And so on.

Solution 2: Only have one goddamn award ceremony.

Lighter Note

I've been thinking of writing this post for a while, but always decided not to, because I am against time killing. But, it's hours of fun, and too good to be missed.

My Favorite Website

I reccomend you start with this Strong Bad E-mail (use the random.bat)

But perhaps even funnier is the Teen Girl Squad Series

Enjoy

Drink Train

I decided to write this post as I walked home from my car. It as to be titled "drunk train" and was to be a drunken train of thought. The first line was to be, "this post find me wearing a blue leisure suit and a fake afro". I am no lnoger wearging these. But I'm still quite drunk.

So a few of you probably know that my recent lack of posting has been the result of my optimistic world-view being shattered by the death of my best friend. A few more of you met Curtis at the New Years bash, and probably immediately realized that you wre in the presence of someone who was probably too cool for his own good. This was the type of person that would seek out a bottle of maker's mark for several quarter hours and upon finding it, take a knee and pay tribute to hsi grail with a deep-souled chug. Not that this is a perfectly representative curtis moment, but merely the strongest memory I have of him from the night. Unfortunately, these memories are about all thats left of him out here, so there ya go. He really wanted to find that mekers bottle, and whn he did, had a moment of pure, untarnished joy that i haven't know since.

The suit isn't even really mine. It's more Lasse's. Sometimes I feel bad for having obtained it through les that pure means, but I love it so much, and believe that universal utility is a profoud meaning of life, so it's not a horrible thing that the suit passed into somebody's hands who appreciated it, hopefully more.

I've always kind of felt like nothjing bad has ever really happened to me. Sure, I've suffered a bit, but suffering isn't a bad thing, all told. Everything that has hurt,has hurt for a reason. I've learned from it, and in retrospect, found beauty in the pain. I spent a night in jail while on acid, which many would call horrible, but I truly believe was among the best things to 3ever happen to me. I couldn't name a single example of a "bad" thing to happen to me. There was always a plus side, which out-weighed the mere loss of comfort. I'm not sure this is true anymore. It jstu fuckin sucks and that's it. I want to be like "this is alright, I've learned from it, I have more spiritual guidance, I have a stronger sense of the finitude of life, I shall seize the day from now on, I shall be a better person" but it just fuckin sucks. and that's it

I don't know what to do with myself most of the time. Shedding tears is no longer the right idea. Moving on certainly isn't the anser. I jsut wake up and just go through a general suckiness. Then I'll drink and occasionally have a break from it, or rationalize it with written words. Neither is right, neither really helps. It jsut fuckin sucks.

So here I am. I had a fun night with Kate. I wore the leisure suit that always makes me feel cool, and I had a few moments of being one with the music, dancing without self-conscousness, which is rare. I somehow obtained a black afro wig from the floor, and completed the suit thusly. Kate's friends want to have sex with me. awesome.

I don't know. I probably shouldn't even post this, because it's depressing without any goal orientation. But that's me right now, so I'm posting it anyways. Sometimes there's no goal. This is not a cry for help, or the talking cure. It's just a drunk kid writing because he doesnt know what else to do with himself right now.