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Me? Give a Damn?

This is a public service announcement
Leave me the feck alone.

Occasionally, a man has an epiphany. This is a sacred moment,and should be observed. I had one sparked by the pleasing blue glow of the all night liquor store.

"I might be gone for a while if you need me"
I am working from home. If Stapler-boy, Crawford or or someone needs me for *work* - you go ahead and call. I am contemplating the case. I do beleive we ought to ruin someone's Saturday morning. And screw anyone who thinks the plaid fingernails are funny. I like them. So you can feck off an' die.

Yeah, you just laugh. Go ahead. You can put that on my tombstone, yeh bastards. And NO, I'm FINE. I'm not about to do anthing stupid.

"I've been wading through all this unbelievable
junk and wondering if I should have given
the world to the monkeys"

Oh, and Caro - I am back. The trip? Not so good. The robo-wuss? Dead. As a feckin' doornail. Which is the stupidest expression ever. I am *drowning* his ass.

And fer any cocksucker who thinks I can't read?

Not Waving But Drowning

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.

- Stevie Smith

So there. Not that you unpoetic bastiches understand.



( 10 comments — Leave a comment )
Feb. 3rd, 2006 06:38 pm (UTC)
Guess I won't ask if you are okay or not.

Sounds like a fine way to spend a Friday, though, really.
Feb. 3rd, 2006 07:27 pm (UTC)
you'd be surprised to know that I've read a poetry book or two in my time. Yes, Mike, they had poetry when dinosaurs roamed the earth.
Feb. 4th, 2006 06:55 am (UTC)
Shit. I have had a breakthrough. Yakuza!
Only the yakuza are this sloppy! Now, to track them down....
Feb. 4th, 2006 10:43 am (UTC)
Who read it to you, Logan?
Feb. 4th, 2006 10:29 pm (UTC)
Nice. You prove my point exactly, there. If you must know, I saw an interpretive performance of that one, and then read it after.
Feb. 5th, 2006 12:54 am (UTC)
Were you on a date?
Feb. 5th, 2006 04:19 am (UTC)
Why so curious?
Feb. 5th, 2006 04:52 am (UTC)
Boredom...that and I'm having a hard time picturing you reading anything that doesn't involve the words "long walks on the beach", turn-ons, or co-ed.
Feb. 5th, 2006 05:25 am (UTC)
Hmm, let's check:

The Host is riding from Knocknarea
And over the grave of Clooth-na-bare;
Caolte tossing his burning hair
And Niamh calling Away, come away:
Empty your heart of its mortal dream.
The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round,
Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound,
Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are a-gleam,
Our arms are waving, our lips are apart;
And if any gaze on our rushing band,
We come between him and the deed of his hand,
We come between him and the hope of his heart.
The host is rushing ’twixt night and day,
And where is there hope or deed as fair?
Caolte tossing his burning hair,
And Niamh calling Away, come away.

Nope, no coeds
Feb. 5th, 2006 06:33 am (UTC)
All right..you win.
( 10 comments — Leave a comment )