|Life has been pretty good lately. Not working much. The other day i went to the Texas Steakhouse with my mom and her boyfriend, and stuffed my gob until i thought i would have the fuckin ruptures. It was two towns over in Lumberton, North Carolina, so it was lovely. Something about going towards the west, away from the beach seems to make everything about travelling better. The geography and the people there, i guess. It's hilly and people don't run around so fast out there. It seems to be all corn fields and forests and nice little country ranch-style houses until you hit town, then it's something out of Robert Penn Warren's stuff. I guess it's because I grew up near the coast, where a lot of the jet-setting urbane types from "up north" ended up getting flushed down to, but it is nice to be around with people who share my economy of language when they are talking to you about how big of a pile of pork-meat you want to gnaw on when you go to the bbq shack. They know how to live out there, those folk. Every once in awhile you see a modest, yet stately home up on a hill in the middle of nowhere with a big pond out front and a few greek-style statues falling to bits in the yard in the distance, with a 10 foot high gate around the place to keep the riff-raff out. I see that, and I think, "This guy here, this is the guy, he knows how it is". I think I've talked about that before on here. I guess running around down here at the beach like you are James Caan at the playboy mansion is okay when you are 17 or 20, but I've felt like I was 45 or thereabouts ever since I was at the age of 25 or so. I'm finally beginning to realize that it's not a bad thing, for me, anyway. I guess it helps that mom's boyfriend always goes around saying somewhat offensive yet funny stuff about folks he sees on the road or in the shops or wherever. Mom slaps his arm, and he always replies to her the same way. "The Truth is Always Welcome in Heaven, Dear." I always look out the window at some old barn being pulled apart by vines and time and the awful weight of history, and I know he's right. |
I better cork up m' wine before the ants get to it.
|There's a boyfriend and girlfriend who are having an argument. The boyfriend is a big ol fat ugly nerdy bum who is chronically unemployed and sits around studying french philosophy and radical feminist stuff (and all that continental rubbish to boot), while his girlfriend is a very good looking "salt of the earth" type who hates hippies with a passion and has a decent paying yet stressful job, and is cultivating a bit of a drinking problem whilst having to support her bum of a boyfriend. They usually get along pretty well despite the fact that few people can picture the two of them together. Their relationship has it's ups and downs, but the scope of the novel happens upon them while they are having a knock down, drag out argument which is serious enough to have the furniture moving around the place a bit, and of course some crockery has been tossed over the course of the evening. The girlfriend is howling at the boyfriend about why he doesn't get his fat ass out and get a job, and he replies by quoting Guy Debord, which infuriates the girlfriend, who replies that Guy Debord was a "goddamn lazy old french poof" and then there's a long flashback about how their relationship started and details it up to the present from the fat boyfriend's point of view which lasts about 300 pages. The scene then shifts back to the present day, and the boyfriend makes some comment about how both the girlfriend and guy debord have something in common, which is that they are both raging alcoholics. Hearing this, our girlfriend chases our boyfriend around the house with a fireplace poker, and the scene shifts to how the relationship started and details it up to the present from the girlfriend's viewpoint for another 300 pages. Then the scene shifts back to the present. Our man knocks the poker out of her hand, and she kicks him in the nuts. He punches her in the tits, and they fall on the couch, exhausted. They note the humor in the situation, make amends, make love, and promise to never fight again. Then the house burns down with them inside it, lol. |
|I would write things, but i am celebrating too much, and can not see the key board right now. SO HERE'S SOME OF OUR BELOVED CWC! |
|one of ya'll should remind me to write it tommrrow.|
It will be jazzy, i bet!