October 28, 2005

. . .

Posted by dean at 12:27 AM

October 27, 2005

Down, Lawn, Y Goa, Page 39 + 40.

It doesn't take long, I find, to be irritated by Yanks. I know they're our friends and everything, and they respect success over there, unlike the ungrateful natives of this bloody chippy dump, but all that cool daddy-o stuff gets on my wick. I mean, you should have seen him. You'd have thought he was on the roof to promote his latest movie. You certainly wouldn't think he'd been puttering around Archway delivering pizzas.

Posted by dean at 02:10 AM

October 25, 2005

He's Looking At Me. He's Looking At Me Right Now.

I think he knows I've been putting lampshades on the trees in his backyard.

The dick.

Posted by dean at 11:14 AM

October 22, 2005

. . .

Posted by dean at 08:17 PM

October 15, 2005

Moving My Tongue To The Back Of His Throat And Hearing His Choke-Reflex Makes Me Think Of Work, Of The Man Staring At The Clearance-Store Vacuum Cleaner In A Very Specific Way.

This used to be an aeronautical design firm. All the tables are on a slant.

"You want me to hold a phonebook up to your face and hit it with a steel cement-support?" he asks.

I move my hair out of the way.

"What do I get out of it?"

"You get to hold a phonebook up to someone's face and hit it with a steel cement-support."

He says he doesn't know. He says he's worried.

He says what good will this do and says how are we going to get out of here and what if something happens and the phonebook explodes, firing newsprint and names of strangers into my mouth, and I don't care, I don't feel it enough, as much I used to.

By the time they get inside, they've got nothing to blame.

We're gone.

Posted by dean at 08:12 AM

October 13, 2005

Fannypack : "Not This".

I'm still takin' the train and
My metro card's empty
The windows of the stores when I walk by tempt me
I was on MTV but I don't have a Bentley
Fuck it, in my pockets I barely gotta twenty
Dollar bill but I go to shows
And make you holla still
I gotta pay my bills and it's not like Prada will
I go to the check cashing spot
Will I always be a have not
Never gonna live in no lavish spot
Always gonna live at home with mom and pop
Shop at Old Navy and Payless
I'm just tryna be honest that why I say this
Hopefully radio plays this I doubt it though
Yo pass that Olde English

Yeah I be rockin' the discotech
Every single night no self respect
Sometimes I feel like I party way too much
Premieres openings and shows and such but
What else is a girl to do
Go home by myself at 2
In the AM I'm sayin' I'm not playin'
I'm doin' the same stupid shit and it's day in day out
I know that there's gotta be a way out
But I keep drinking and I just stay out
At the hot spots with superstars and the hardrocks
I wish that I could disappear to the boondocks
Why not, maybe I'll hire me a pilot
To take me away to the shade and I'll stay
Get a slice at Ray's like we did when we was kids
Something's gotta give real soon but it's not this

On the real I be hatin' myself sometimes
I know you do too but it's okay sometimes
I'm tryin' to escape the grind sometimes
It ain't gonna get better if I do some lines so
Enough with the parties and bullshit
I go to the parties and bullshit
It never gets better when I do this shit
So stressed I wanna get up and quit
It's like maybe tonight's the night and
Maybe if I socialize I'll feel alright but those
Never seem to be the best laid plans
Never did I dream I'd go to foreign lands I just
Wanna lay in creamy sands
Doing nothin' all day with my dreamy man maybe
Buy that house across from the projects
So I can stay trading gossip like stock tips

It's not at the after party
It's not in the hotel lobby
It's not in magazines
And it's not even in my dreams
The things that I need
Ain't in the VIP
Don't know what it is
It's definitely not this.

Posted by dean at 06:49 AM

October 11, 2005

Overheard, Again, In Public Message Post Space-Land.

"Hey did anybody else see the ad they have now for ads? I swear on the holy nuts of Jesus that I saw an ad where a Coke-like bottle spins around and reveals a Coke-like logo that says 'Advertising.' At first I thought it was for adbusters or something but it turned out to be from the Advertising Council. Are you fucking kidding me? You need an AD for ADS?

I never understood why they needed ads for milk or cotton, but this is so much more nuts. Trust me guys, even if every single person in this country who does not work in advertising woke up one morning and decided to burn every TV set, paint over every billboard, tear out every ad in every magazine and every newspaper, shred every t-shirt with a corporate logo, throw Grimace and the Afflack duck in Guantanamo Bay with no charges, and line up and execute every single person ever associated with Regal Cinema's 'The Twenty'...and then if we all hopped on the George W. Bush Memorial Super Anti-Steroids Rocket to Mars to leave this burning pile of advertising wreckage in the dust, never to be seen or spoken of again...even then, I guaranfuckingtee you we'd get there and there'd be a fuckin' McDonalds 'I'm Lovin' It' billboard on the ancient martian pyramids. And the ghosts of mars would come out and their piercings would have the Nike swoosh on them and their tattoos would all be advertising logos like god damn NASCAR patches and they'd be holding Nokia cell phones and singing about Pepsi and they'd be sweating martian Gatorade and I don't know how this is even possible but they'd definitely have popup ads shooting out of their asses.


Posted by dean at 10:56 PM

October 04, 2005

. . .


Posted by dean at 12:23 AM