Apostolic Alcoholic Musings

Random Notes On a Weekend

Mon, 22 Oct 2007 21:58:49 GMT

I was lobbed fully-loaded balled-up napkins and was cajoled into staring at a looping, drunkslanted signature. She handed me a shot for my efforts while she played with my "don juan" locks. Something or other about a $700 champagne tab, lots of dancing, sore feet the next morning. I was also threatend by the girl in the first sentence of this entry. Apparently she's fond of drop kicking Blanco's in the throat.

It's a wonderful life.

If you can find it.

Shot of Love

Sun, 30 Sep 2007 09:16:21 GMT

Sometimes it just hits you straight in the heart and there's no ifs, ands or buts about it. No where you can hide, no place to abscond to. It just is. Can't even lurk in a misspelling. It's twined into the fabric of feeling. No pulling it apart to study its parts, either. It knows. And knowing it knows, it is.

Oh well, it'll pass by tomorrow and I'll grieve. That's if I remember....

Hehehe

Fri, 06 Jul 2007 17:42:50 GMT

Making fun of people is fun.

Btw, not my blog.

Take This Longing

Mon, 25 Jun 2007 19:06:15 GMT

Many men have loved the bells
you fastened to the rein,
and everyone who wanted you
they found what they will always want again.
Your beauty lost to you yourself
just as it was lost to them.
Oh take this longing from my tongue,
whatever useless things these hands have done.
Let me see your beauty broken down
like you would do for one you love.

Your body like a searchlight
my poverty revealed,
I would like to try your charity
until you cry, "Now you must try my greed."
And everything depends upon
how near you sleep to me

Just take this longing from my tongue
all the lonely things my hands have done.
Let me see your beauty broken down
like you would do for one you love.

Hungry as an archway
through which the troops have passed,
I stand in ruins behind you,
with your winter clothes, your broken sandal straps.
I love to see you naked over there
especially from the back.

Oh take this longing from my tongue,
all the useless things my hands have done,
untie for me your hired blue gown,
like you would do for one that you love.

You're faithful to the better man,
I'm afraid that he left.
So let me judge your love affair
in this very room where I have sentenced
mine to death.
I'll even wear these old laurel leaves
that he's shaken from his head.

Just take this longing from my tongue,
all the useless things my hands have done,
let me see your beauty broken down,
like you would do for one you love.

Like you would do for one you love.

-L.C.

Blancology

Fri, 08 Jun 2007 06:37:42 GMT

Through trial and error peek-a-boo causes and fool's gold effects, Romeo has no clue Ophelia would have been a better lay.

Greatest movie never made!

Sat, 26 May 2007 02:53:03 GMT

What the Thunder Said...

Fri, 25 May 2007 19:25:32 GMT

Impudent wake-up calls seem to be all the rage these days. If it's not one housemate, then it's the other. As of late, i am one unacquainted with the ante meridiem dew. Was called douchebag by a girl who irks my brain coils. She asked me to describe to her in detail how it would feel if i daintily placed my penis in a jar of warm apple sauce. Then she called me a douchebag. Oh what divine company i keep.

The aim of the artist is to slightly shift the reality program paradigm.

Shantih. Shantih. Shantih.

Songs That We Sing

Thu, 10 May 2007 15:45:43 GMT

I saw somebody who reminded me of you
Before you got afraid
I wish that you could have stayed that way

I saw a little girl, I stopped and smiled at her
She screamed and ran away
It happens to me more and more these days

And these songs that you sing,
Do they mean anything to the people you're singing them to
People like you

I saw a photograph: a woman in a bath of hundred-dollar bills
If the cold doesn't kill her money will

I read a magazine, it said by seventeen your life is at and end
I am dead and I'm perfectly content

And these songs that I sing,
Do they mean anything to the people I'm singing them to
People like you

-Charlotte Gainsbourg

Blancologic

Sat, 05 May 2007 22:36:39 GMT

Some girls are fit for roses while others you have to beat off with a stick. Life is simply days strung together in a necklace of time lubricated by love. That sounded so much better in my head. The romantic in me negates the cynic/pessimist/bastardio. Impressions trump structure and form. I had a dream of a girl I had prior relations with and she was naked on a bed, her skin a sheen of salty sweat and lovemarked, hair pasted on her forehead. She turned to me and said, I'm ready to tell you my story....

Blancologic

Mon, 09 Apr 2007 05:56:04 GMT

Sometimes one person's effort is someone else's waste of time.

One of my faves...

Thu, 29 Mar 2007 00:34:09 GMT

From Blank to Blank-
A Threadless Way
I pushed Mechanic feet-
To stop-or perish-or advance-
Alike indifferent.

If end I gained-
It ends beyond-
Indefinite disclosed-
I shut my eyes-
And groped as well
Twas lighter-to be blind-

-E.D.

Only Passing Through...

Wed, 28 Feb 2007 16:47:16 GMT

Ever feel like you wasted a vast amount of time on something you once had high hopes for and for one reason or other has transformed into an amorphous entity excruciatingly painful to even think about?

Welcome to Blancoville.

I Love Life!

Sun, 17 Dec 2006 23:37:05 GMT

Here comes your bedtime story: Mum & Dad have sentenced you to life.
Don't think twice; it's the only reason I'm alive.
I feel alright as long as I don't forget to breathe.
Breathe in, breathe in, breathe out.
Look at all these buildings & houses
I love my life. I love my life.
Hey now, slow down a minute.
Take my arms & fill them full of life.
Don't think twice.
Does it ease the pain of being alive?
Or is it why - why you keep nodding out on me?
Breathe in, breathe in, breathe out.
Another day, another major disaster
I love my life. I love my life...

-Pulp

Word to the wise...

Sat, 18 Nov 2006 19:36:54 GMT

Words are dangerous when they travel in packs.

November

Thu, 02 Nov 2006 21:07:26 GMT

November
It only believes
In a pile of dead leaves
And a moon
That's the color of bone
No prayers for November
To linger longer
Stick your spoon in the wall
We'll slaughter them all
November has tied me
To an old dead tree
Get word to April
To rescue me
November's cold chain
Made of wet boots and rain
And shiny black ravens
On chimney smoke lanes
November seems odd
You're my firing squad
November

-Tom Waits

Wed, 01 Nov 2006 19:25:52 GMT

grammar dimension? is this what a circle looks like from the

Procrastination Interrupted

Tue, 10 Oct 2006 20:57:10 GMT

A couple of nights ago i received nearly in full a full-blown outline for a novel minutes before i drifted off to sleep. i leave it to the gods of memory as to how i remembered the damn thing the next morning. in short, it's a hardboiled detective story in every sense of the word ala hammet, chandler, and ellroy. i'm currently finishing the prologue - which i'm also expanding as a short story. oh, i can't wait to get to the surreal bits! yeah, it gets weird and into territory i may have to expunge in a further draft. i have several titles floating, Reality Sickness and Art Crime are two. And as for the title of the prologue/short story, well, that's Boiled Baby Blues...

Alexander has a talk with Blanco

Tue, 05 Sep 2006 21:21:23 GMT

Blanco: Hey, I heard you were looking for me the other day.
Alexander: Yeah, buddy, got a little depressed. You know how these things go.
Blanco: God knows I do.
Alexander: So, do you know where I have been?
Blanco: Does it matter any?
Alexander: That's a bit troubling, isn't it?
Blanco: Not really. Don't you remember? You let me take care of us for a while. It was for the best...
Alexander: Oh? Like, um, a timeshare?
Blanco: Something like that.
Alexander: So, is your time up?
Blanco: That's up to you.
Alexander: Hmm...
Blanco: Hmm, indeed...

Tell Ol' Blanco

Mon, 04 Sep 2006 18:08:10 GMT

When he comes home, that I need my sanity back for a spell...

Lonesome Day Blues #2343

Sat, 02 Sep 2006 22:28:55 GMT

Was annoyed last night to the point where the truant Blanco Pout emerged in full glory. It might be time to cut and run from this crowd. Thought they had potential. Been wrong before. The old man said it best: funny how the things you have the hardest time parting with are the things you need the least. Train wrecks are easily avoided but I have always been attracted to the fire and tangled metal of collisions. Family puts things into perspective. Tomorrow there'll be a feast at Chez Blanco. I usually avoid these shindigs, but I think this one might do me some good.

God's a Righty...

Thu, 31 Aug 2006 17:20:31 GMT

Nowhere in the bible is god's left hand mentioned. Gotta love that! Best line i've heard in a while from Bob Dylan: "'ll suck the milk out of a thousand cows." The biological argument for vegetarianism - the one that goes into inordinate detail about how human anatomy is more in tune with herbivores than carnivores - annoyingly excludes evolution from its equation. Saw Soderbergh's cover of Solaris last night. Great line: "There are no solutions, only choices." Tally ho!

Lost At the Bottom of the World

Tue, 29 Aug 2006 18:19:52 GMT

The world is not my home, I'm just passing through. My body is merely a timesuit that withstands the rigors and turbulence of space and thought. Closely tied with the aesthetics of madness are the principles of euphoria. Insanity has far too wide a leash, like the negative time that pregnates our pre-life. There should be a word to describe the time before each of us as individuals were born. If someone says that that term is HISTORY, I'll slap them and then eat some Honey Nut Cheerios. We are all the policemen of our convictions. Some of us are just undercover...

Blimeys 'N Cunts R US!

Mon, 28 Aug 2006 17:00:08 GMT

For the better part of the past eleven months, I have been attempting an homeostatic plateau while dashing a 40mph dash for the end-zone dodging landmines I have on good authority my past life set on the playing field to keep things interesting. To my dizzying dismay and utter amazement, yesterday's fictions are invading today's reality. Reality, by the way, is subject to change as often as the clouds overhead, that's nothing new. But the harder one tries to ply it the more steadfast it seems. The trick of it all is not to look reality/fiction in the eye. The world is a peripheral amorphous mass of information with misplaced commas peppering individual perception. Perspective is key when keeping to the straight and narrow. But when has the straight and narrow ever got anybody anywhere? Give me the long, winding road! I'll keep it with mine...

Call me a sap, but...

Mon, 31 Jul 2006 16:51:00 GMT

Wildflowers

You belong among the wildflowers
You belong in a boat out at sea
Sail away, kill off the hours
You belong somewhere you feel free

Run away, find you a lover
Go away somewhere all bright and new
I have seen no other
Who compares with you

You belong among the wildflowers
You belong in a boat out at sea
You belong with your love on your arm
You belong somewhere you feel free

Run away, go find a lover
Run away, let your heart be your guide
You deserve the deepest of cover
You belong in that home by and by

You belong among the wildflowers
You belong somewhere close to me
Far away from your trouble and worry
You belong somewhere you feel free
You belong somewhere you feel free

T. Petty

Restless Farewell

Tue, 25 Jul 2006 17:10:07 GMT

Oh all the money that in my whole life I did spend,
Be it mine right or wrongfully,
I let it slip gladly past the hands of my friends
To tie up the time most forcefully.
But the bottles are done,
We've killed each one
And the table's full and overflowed.
And the corner sign
Says it's closing time,
So I'll bid farewell and be down the road.

Oh ev'ry girl that ever I've touched,
I did not do it harmfully.
And ev'ry girl that ever I've hurt,
I did not do it knowin'ly.
But to remain as friends and make amends
You need the time and stay behind.
And since my feet are now fast
And point away from the past,
I'll bid farewell and be down the line.

Oh ev'ry foe that ever I faced,
The cause was there before we came.
And ev'ry cause that ever I fought,
I fought it full without regret or shame.
But the dark does die
As the curtain is drawn and somebody's eyes
Must meet the dawn.
And if I see the day
I'd only have to stay,
So I'll bid farewell in the night and be gone.

Oh, ev'ry thought that's strung a knot in my mind,
I might go insane if it couldn't be sprung.
But it's not to stand naked under unknowin' eyes,
It's for myself and my friends my stories are sung.
But the time ain't tall,
Yet on time you depend and no word is possessed
By no special friend.
And though the line is cut,
It ain't quite the end,
I'll just bid farewell till we meet again.

Oh a false clock tries to tick out my time
To disgrace, distract, and bother me.
And the dirt of gossip blows into my face,
And the dust of rumors covers me.
But if the arrow is straight
And the point is slick,
It can pierce through dust no matter how thick.
So I'll make my stand
And remain as I am
And bid farewell and not give a damn.

-B. Dylan

Love this song...