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Friday
Jul242009

You Are Three Pints In And I'm Still Watching Where You Were.

Friday night, with Violet, and we got rid of the cable so that's out. No channels. None. I miss the channels. Even the ones I never watched. Soccer Channel: you rule. You too C-Span 4. I know you were interviews with dullard Korean War historians taped two years ago at a Book Fair in Hell, but still...you were there. For me. Waiting. I'm so sorry I never stopped by really.

Who cares though. I have stuff to do. Check me out. C'mon, it'll be fun.

Ok, Violet's asleep in her swing: food coma. A whole thing of sweet potatoes and then like 7 oz of Habanero Salsa. (Actually formula, but I git tired/bored of saying 'formula' which sounds so unexcited and typical. I wanted some name with more Life Affirming Qualities, something with more of a Black Magic Voodoo snap to it. So, Habanero Salsa.) And ok, so let's just go over to her for a sec and touch her toes but seriously: we CAN"T wake her up, alright?! This is the Witching Hour and believe me, we cannot party like we need to party here on Friday night if she wakes up. Cool?

Ok: here touch her toe.

OMG! She stirred. She grunted! Did you hear that??!!! Dude she GRUNTED! C'mon get away from her. Shhhhhh!

Ok ok ok. Come out here in the kitchen. Here. Get a dog treat from this Tupperware thing. Got one? Cool. Now. Call Max. Or Milo.

Just whatever: either one: they'll both show up, trust me.

See, here they are.

Milo, SIT! SIT! SIT, Milo! Whatever. Here ya' go. Toss your treat to Max.

Whoa! Did you see that??!!! Did you see him half jump for it?! Oh dude, that was SWEEEEET!

Yo, dude dude...come here...you GOTTA see this!

Check this out. (I show you something, bro.)

What is it? Are you serious? Are you seriously asking what this is? Oh man!

Dude, it's ROSEANNE! The show! These are the like the first 7 seasons! Look each one is like 346 minutes long, man! We could watch these All Night Long and still not see 'em all, bud.

What You gotta split?

Oh.

Damn. Really?

Alright. Uhm. You're going to Piper Down aren't you? Listen to some Black 47/some Matthews/get some beer on your bones. I got ya.

Cool. Cool.

Go.

GO, I SAID. FUCKING JUST GO ALREADY DUDE!

(You go. As you step outside you are just tsunami'd by your independence and your fresh minty Freedom. From all things wife/kids/dogs. You are so glad to be out of there.)

(You feel me staring at you from my big front window.)

(You get in, start it up and pull out without looking at me.)

(A mile away: you still feel me staring out my window at where you were.)

I walk over to the TV and turn it on.

No channels. None.

I want a new drug.

Reader Comments (12)

You just turned on the TV again, didn't you? Dude, there's still nothing there.

July 24, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterWife?

We should just scrape the copper wiring out of the basements of old empty houses.

To pay for cable.

July 24, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterSerge

Without TV a brother or sister for Violet can't be far behind...

July 24, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterAnonymous

See what I'd do now in your shoes....

You still have internet, so use it to your advantage...

Find your favorite shows on-line, hook your computer up to your tv, and watch them that way....

Or you could just get used to the no tv thing and find ways to amuse yourself, which is something I know you're more than capable of....

Maybe take some time to sit down and write a book or something....

July 25, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterSpawny666

vuze

July 25, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterAnonymous

The Soccer Channel rules!!

July 26, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterAnonymous

Time to start your novel. -Suzie

July 26, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterAnonymous

This can't be cool for you.
Everything has been taken away except, AND THIS IS BIG, Violet.
Nowhere city with no friends and nothing to look forward to except, AND THIS IS BIG, Violet growing up.
If you don't believe in your own artistic ambition, or if music is painful or not of interest anymore (you are probably fooling yourself, friend), than you are at the mercy of someone else's whims.
That will cause resentment.
Peace

July 26, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterAnonymous

Life is life and I'm a big boy who is enjoying the ride no matter how hard/weird/tricky it might be. I was hoping my blog would reveal that to readers.

My need to make music is roughly the same size as a snowflake. But less interesting.

SLC is actually an awesome place to live. I apologize if I've ever given any other impression.

Thanks for caring!

July 26, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterSerge

I used to worry about you not having an artistic outlet after Marah ended, but it has been great to see that you've found one with this blog. Guys like you are one in a million and we miss you here on the east coast, but it is good to know you have a nice life out there in Utah. Keep on writing Serge. I wish you all the best.

July 26, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterAnonymous

I've been a big fan of Monica's for years -- she's pretty much the only blogger I liked at the start that I still like now -- and I'm so happy that you're as awesome as she's made you out to be.

You absolutely need to submit some of your work to a magazine or anthology -- something, anything. It boggles my mind that there are people out there with the kind of rare talent that you have who have yet to be snapped up by a publisher. Fuck the Gladwell and chick lit and Suze Orman bargain bin offerings. This is the stuff that matters.

July 27, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterRachel

Black 47! I used to see them a lot at Paddy O'Reillys back in the (90s) day in Murray Hill. Loved 'em. Once took my boys from London (English Irishmen). Told them I found a band from home they might like. Dragged Mr. Gez O'Sullivan and his lovely wife, Deb. Two songs in, Gez turns to me and says "what wankers." Didn't like the pro-IRA POV. A New York Irish band. Didn't know the difference then. Fast forward, in London with a colleague at restaurant somewhere in London. We get to talking London. Says his Sister is here, in London! Because she is a Black 47 fan and met her - English (probably not Irish) - boyfriend and now husband at the show. Black 47. Where are you Big Fellas, when we needed you the most?

July 29, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterfellowdad

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