Haven’t written, can’t write worth a flying purple-spotted fuckall, the world and all who inhabit it are doomed to the eternal midnight of the insomniac living on some strip-mall blighted boulevard in a cheap one room motel with kitchenette and weekly rates and a super named Raoul who should really spare the world at least [...]
Filed under: Backstage Pass, Bring Grammy A Bourbon, Bring Grammy A Margarita | Tagged: doom | 5 Comments »
Take it to Goodwill, muthafuckah!
I am comin’ to you live from the backside of Day Two. Making progress, sold a few things on craigslist today, took a car load to Goodwill, and tossed a bunch of crap in the garbage, such as:
1. Cotton halter-type bras in such an advanced state of disintegration that you could [...]
Filed under: Another Roadside Attraction, Backstage Pass | Tagged: Day Two, drinking progress, what now? | No Comments »
I can’t go into what’s taken me so long to get back to the hedgehog, my dears. Nay. Suffice it to say, I have phantom-kicked Ralph Nader, Howard Schultz, and David Stern in their respective baby-makers with the amount of force in keeping with douchebaggery of the acts they have committed.
Now.
We’re moving. Again. To Austin. [...]
Filed under: Backstage Pass, Bring Grammy A Bourbon, Things About Me | Tagged: ass, bourbon, herniated left cheek, packing, scotch | 4 Comments »
