September 2009
57 posts
Subject: Dude?
What’s up? Your mom told me you had something on your mind but she would not tell me what it was. She said you would have to be the one who tells me. So…..tells me. Don’t be shy. It’s your Uncle here and anything you do tell me is safe with me. It will go in the “vault”. So spill it bitchface.
Chico
_________________
Sigh :(
“There’s a train leaving nightly called when all is said and done”
– Warren Zevon
Subject: Dem Bitches
Hey Geno, How dem bitches be at da schoolin’? I’ll see you this weekend. John Muir is now one of my heroes. There is a special running on PBS about our National Parks. Muir was the shit. Completely brown.
______________________
Sigh :(
Sometimes I think that I know What love’s all about
I guess I don’t,
But I know I’ll be all right. I’ve got my friends in the world, I had my friends. City of brotherly love Place I call home Don’t turn your back on me I don’t want to be alone Someone is talking to me, Calling my name.
Tell me I’m not to blame I won’t be ashamed. City...
So i was sitting on my ever widening ass in my bunker complex in Pahrump, Nevada
i’m kidding.
No, just right at my desk. I was sitting there for hours. thinking. worrying. all that.
It was late, like 1ish and I was fucking around with the sound of leaves.
It wasnt working.
So i found a minor blues backing track and I just improvised over it and stitched it in garage band. put some...
Mr. Richard Smoker,
Your a poopy poker,
Chicken choker,
no-no yoker,
velvet croaker.
You eat dark meat.
Ween Day
In homage to Gener, who resides in rehab.
iTunes on Ween Shuffle
or
WEEN RADIO
http://www.weenradio.com/
People of TUMBLR,
I’m bringing back the old format.
Thats right.
Goin back to the roots.
From when I first started this little tumblr project.
Yours,
MajestySnowbird
There aint no easy way to learn how to fly,
Should I ask for more?
I feel like sugar on the floor.
- Elton John
When the conductor makes a mistake and blames it...
Blues music makes me happy. Real life blues does...
What is Love?
Well, since the question was brought up. I guess the best thing I could do is field something of an answer.
I think love is different for everybody.
I know that its generally some sort of strong feeling for somebody. right? ya.
So anyway- for me, love is like gasoline.
or diesel fuel, or kerosene, or whatever kinda fuel is out there.
Why?
I’m an artist. not like a painter or anything...
Come and embrace the struggle But win or lose we live here.
I Build a new beginning on an old rock And Breathe deep of the sweet fresh air.
This Tornado Loves You - Neko Case
With the wind in your hair,
And the storm pouring in,
You calmed the sea,
But still kept wind in the sails.
Good dog fluffy. Furry buddy.
Day to day
The shifting wind just blows us on our way
Here and there
Our pockets full of things to say
You could roll around the globe And never find a warmer soul to know With your eyes that look like ice on fire Do you ever see the letters that I write? Do you count the stars at night? If there comes a time you are free to make a choice Just look towards the east and find a friend
I wish I was a Fisherman
tumblr what the fuck.
format the way i want the fuckin thing formatted.
muse. take:one
A source for pureness.
Let there be openess and
happiness.
for us.
Words spoken from gentle lips hum the purr of the sea.
The muse is clear.
the one forcing,
entering the silence.
Philadelphia:
The encryption followed me from the exit to the Walnut. I twisted forward and looked over to see the woman beside me talking about the burner failing. We parked and went into the the club where the sorcerer’s were preparing for the cream colored book of signs. I ate the feta and prepared for the walk to the CVS. I swallowed the cigarettes and began preparation for the evening to come. It was to be...
GWB
I’m so excited about the frozen milk that she spread across my unshaven lips. I heard her speaking as I crossed the street and knew immediately that I’d heard it all before. There were many people on the ice that day, lots of hot chocolate and I smiled as if to say, “I could be your nalcion frelyatope, and you could be my party city.” The funny old man smelled us both from...
Fly Mollusk, FLY!!!
You look and see yourself.
And the man works in the time.
If you can count the time.
Your armed with the beauty of love.
In time.
You see,
I have been there, to where you’ve been.
There.
And I said many.
Many things there, then.
There are three things that spur the mollusk form the sand:
The itching of your nuts in the sand.
And with my eye- I can see.
Him walking.
The mollusk...
