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Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Impressions, April 2009.... Embracing the Horror

Those nice kids in Ft Collins in a Metal Band the world has seen before and will see again. Industrial clothes from the 1990s. Fishnets and gas masks and long haired friendly guys. Underage goth chicks with makeup. That lady talking about sex with models. We are all musicians. The friend who lived in New York and started to like it. Would you like to smoke a clove cigarette in the parking lot of this grill and bar with live music where the Indians once hunted the Buffalo?

That librarian who reads me stories.

There is a drunk twenty-something asleep in a car outside of your house where children play and neighborhood ordinances oblige you to mow the lawn. Vomiting. A guitar in a car. The strength to endure the dreams of young Americans getting less young and throwing themselves at you. We doubled our income by getting a hotter merch girl.

Two rocks in your left shoe in the bathroom at the Safeway with a Starbucks whose black coffee is undrinkable. Beef is cheap and big. The rain brings green grass in the high desert. The great plains and the place to drive off-road vechicles through trails carved out of prarie dog. Someone has a job to mow the green grass in front of the strip mall in the high desert. They are going to Dam the Cache La Poudre River so you can have a job building a lawn mower to cut the green grass in front of a strip mall in a high desert.

You're laid off, here is a sharpie and a piece of carboard. Go find an intersection with a traffic light and start talking about God. That Iraq Vet has a substance abuse problem. She doesn't look as good with her clothes taken off.

People who make ends meet have more than one job. People whose cell phones get turned off don't have any jobs. People who go out to eat whenever they want and order whatever they want and drink heartily and wear nice clothes and gaze into each others' eyes are mysterious.

Instead of helping kids with homework or asking about their day parents are always single and they get extra jobs. Rich idealists from Vail approach the Mississippi delta with colonial intentions. Low wage fuckups and refugees from decaying industry seek asylum in the teaching profession. Teachers are hired on the basis of their willingness to work for free as unpaid social workers so parents can work extra jobs for low wages as corporations report record profits and rich shareholders value their "democratizing" influence in the economy. Teachers don't go out with their husbands because they are tired. What America really needs right now is 10-15 extra unpaid hours of work a week for teachers who wake up at 6 am and are too tired to go out with their husbands. Otherwise they are selfish, badddddd, teachers. Who should be paid less. My company lost billions of dollars of money that never actually existed. We are "too big to fail". Give me money you fucking taxpayers. How dare you question my existence.

The court TV program is loud at the laundromat. Are its decisions really legally binding? Are those actors getting paid to debase themselves or are ordinary people so desperate they are signing up for that kind of stuff? Guys in their 40s are on social networking sites offering money and shelter to young women with ex-husbands in exchange for sex. A gay teenager just committeed suicide and your step dad is an abusive Christian Fundamentalist.

We need more troops. The national guard recruiting ad has pictures of people helping out flood victims. You need to work for free as an unpaid apprentice for 60 hours a week. You didn't finish college, but at least you can invest a few more thousand dollars into some real estate job, training, and a license before you start to get paid some months from now. No one gets paid to train at a job anymore.

Make sure those limes aren't dry. God damn it if there is one thing we don't need right now it's dry limes stuck on the rim of a plastic cup with iced tea in it. Let's get some fresh limes. Wet in their own juice, for a Change I Can Believe In.

I expect a 3.5 star level of service at the 2 star restaurant I can now afford to eat at. I don't care if you are the only person here. It's very important for you to tell me about Specials your cook doesn't have while you're answering the phone to take a delivery order as that other guy's food gets cold sitting on the counter in the kitchen that doesn't have heat lamps. There is a new payroll company and I anticipate "excitement" when the checks Finally Arrive. The sky is grey and the leaves are dead and the birds are grey or black and flying away from me.

Shower or sleep? Sleep or eat? Eat or shower?

Miley has a new blog. She put pictures up on myspace. She is talking about stuff. Holy shit. I want to fuck that sixteen year old. Put some more lipstick on, baby.

You're hair is thinning and you live in this suburb. You are thinking about deviant sex. Sex with the wrong gender. Abusive sex. You want to hit people with your hand because people have hit you with their hands and with their words your whole life. No one cares about your day. Your day doesn't matter. MILEY's day mattes you fucking retard. You can pay some guy to hear about your day and analyze your pathologies. Even give you some more perscription drugs to pass into the next city's water supply. But health insurance doesn't sign up people with pre-existing mental problems.

A serial killer from the internet nicknamed "Giggles". A Christian security guard at a strip mall from the early 2000s who used to go to swingers' nights. Punk rockers spray painting obsenities in the parking lot. Nostalgia... what are we doing with our lives?

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