Thursday, October 29, 2009

People. They're not just for breakfast anymore


I always say I'm going to stop reading the news online. Yes! I should be writing. I'm aware of that, Susan. But as long as I'm hooked up to the internet and not a morphine drip, chances are I'll be buying vicodin in bulk and reading the news. Lots of it. Todays 'what the fuck' headline:

'Coyotes Kill Young Singer-Songwriter On Hike In Park'

Seriously. WTF! Now I know I won't be finishing my crappy novel today. She was probably thinking of lyrics to her new song about the great outdoors and how society is a prison...wishing she had a pen to write it all down and then WTF!

Coyotes.
Friggin' coyotes.

Now I'm all for irony. But this is just the world on a platter of cruelty.
But...
being a very bad poet above all else, some very bad poetry came to mind when we all know I should be writing. Things like:
'and I thought the music industry would eat you alive'
or 'I took the road less traveled and that was probably a bad idea after all'
or 'The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy unless you run into coyotes.'

Sadly, there's more. But I should get back to my 'writing.'

Monday, October 19, 2009

What the hell am I doing drinking in L.A.?


There is a circus freak show of things writers get themselves into when they should be writing. Booze comes to mind first. After that, it's just a cacophony of the ridiculous. I'll do my best to expose you to some of the sordid places I go when the writing gets tough and the tough hide under the kitchen table. For instance, I thought it might be fun to use the word 'hirsute' in a poem. Essentially, it means hairy. Not exactly what I was thinking of. Lo and behold it was all downhill from there. For example:

Hirsute, my love won't matter

was the line I was thinking of. That was five hours of wasted time I'll never get back. After a vicodin and a call to the  suicide hotline I realize of course love won't matter if it's hairy. What the hell is that and who would write such a thing? After the pills kicked in and 'Wanda' talked me out of blowing my brains out, I realized I may have actually meant 'forsooth' which makes a lot more sense. It may not mean alot to most people but that's what happens when you lay around naked with a pad of paper and a pen.