demo

Yessuh

I follow a heavyset black man in a cowboy hat into the blues bar bathroom. The two of us are simultaneously hit by the strong lingering smell of ganja.

"Someone's been blazin up in here," the man says as he straddles up to his urinal.

"Someone's been blazin' up in here, yessuh."

"If" -a poem

If I posted a pic

That was of my dick

Would my life be in shambles

If my bosses clicked?

If the pic of the dick

Was a friendly trick

Would I be to blame

For those who'ere made sick?

And what of that album

With that infant's dick?

The one by Nirvana

With that sweet guitar lick.

Does the difference in dicks

'Twixt mine and that kid's

Make one called "high art"

And the other just "some fuckin

Dick?"

Book 2

Starts tomorrow. Get ready for some posts boys.

What exactly IS "coming down?" - live blog

Smoked some weed and head off in hopes of learning more about what "coming down" actually feels like over the course of the night.

Robo ghost
I get in the elevator.  The door starts to close, then halfway through it opens back up as if there was something blocking the way.  There was nothing blocking the way.  It closes, and it dawns on me that I might be riding this elevator with a ghost.  Furthermore, if the mechanical door sensed this ghost's presence, perhaps this is some kind of mechanical ghost.  The ghost of a computer or robot, if you will.

Fuckin' high.

Door celebration flex

Long story short I had to go up and down the elevator three times. On the third time I was heading back down from my floor, and as the elevator door opened I heard one of my neighbors' doors start to open.  I am in no state/mood to ride an elevator with another person.  I jump in and slam the "close door" button with speed and accuracy comparable solely to that of a laser.  As the door gets closer and closer to being closed, I gradually lean towards it on one knee and find myself kneeling on the floor as the door finally closes, pumping my fist slowly in pride.

Still high.

Almost blew up

Now I'm(ay or may not be) driving and I'm not gonna make it to the Westside without getting gas.  I fill up at some station before the highway and go to put the pump back on that little thing it sits on.  It doesn't seem to fit, but I try to jam it and it won't go up or in anymore, so I figure it just feels loose.  I let go and it falls to the ground.  By some force of nature my reaction speeds have been slowed, and I find myself reaching down for it with one hand, while the other is still in my pocket.  I put it back and bust a move out of there.

Fachk.

Magic drive

So there are two highways that intersect near my place, meaning there are four different places to get on the highway.  I realize I chose the way that leads to the three directions that I don't need (which is bullshit because this way is by turning south off Ventura, and south is the direction I want to go, so why are the north, east, and west exits on the road that heads due south, while the south exit is further west? But I digress).  Anyways, this leads me to not taking the highway, and idk if any of you have driven south down Sepulveda but I legit felt like I was in Gran Turismo. Truly magical.

Not even THAT high...maybe a little.

I FOUND IT? I REMEMBERED HOW TO GET HERE??
Remember me fucking up at that gas station?  Well the plan had been to look up directions after I pumped, but I had to get the fuck out of there because I was flustered, so now I don't really know where I'm going.  I've been to this bar once before though, so I decide to wing it and go on instinct.  So I just take every turn that feels right and then find myself at the bar.

How high can I be?

Talkin n chillen
So at the bar I proceed to talk and chill, thus losing sight of my research.  Maybe this is the nature of coming down?  You're thinking all these ideas, and having all these moments, and you've got all this shit in your brain, and then you just slowly kinda don't.  I was also downing margaritas pretty fast so maybe what I just described is getting drunk.  But whatever, fuck you NSA.

Summer stock in New Hampshire

Dudes. Summer stock in New Hampshire has been a fucking blast. We are running The Sound of Music right now and my part is easy as shit. It's a two hour show and I'm only on stage for 15 minutes. Every morning and afternoon I do whatever I want. Hiking swimming working out reading shitting jerking it sleeping shitting. 

I miss you guys a lot. I'm sure I've missed a google hangout but let's do another one soon

Thoughts while Shitting

Today I was sitting on the toilet taking my daily morning shit when I began to ponder on the greatness/grossness of the bathroom. Literally you can do anything in there and nobody would call you out on it. Like if you took a shit anywhere else other than the bathroom, it's kind of fucking weird. But you can fart, shit, piss, have sex, vomit, burp, cry, trim your pubes, kill a dude/try to flush a man's insides down, write a paper, masturbate, read a book, try to show off your guns to yourself, and bathe with nobody asking "you did that where?!"

So next time you are in the bathroom, just remember how majestic this place really is.

This guy is talkin bout what i was talkin bout

starts at about 7:20 if you wanna skip ahead, explains the label thing really well at some point in the next 10 mins



ps-if you listen to this guy high with electric sheep running, you'll have a good time