Sunday, June 10, 2012

Bar Talk # 8

Overheard Friday Night (6-8-12) at Nick-A-Nees,
Providence, Rhode Island
(Purty much reported as close to verbatim as possible.)

He’s the kind of guy who is always espousing various codes of honor, dignity, and loyalty. Just don’t turn your back.

Of course I live for art, but good ol’ art just can’t seem to throw me a rope even when I sinking in the quicksand.

It is not getting any better. I don’t care if it’s Mitt, Barry, Snookie, or the ghost of FDR, it’s not getting any better. It’s time to jump on one of those long boats heading to China and Japan.

I hate turtles, they all remind of my ex’s thing, except with eyes.

Everybody in this joint should be charged admission just to see her ass bend over the bar and order a drink. They’d all pay it gladly.

Hey, that’s sounds like Iggy on the jukebox. It is Iggy! What kind of jukebox is this?

Nobody fixes anything anymore. It’s buy it, try it, use it, abuse it, toss it, and start all over again and buy the new version. My grandfather would roll over in his tool-filled work cellar.

Last time I was here someone gave me some of that medical marijuana and it almost knocked me out. I couldn’t find my way home.
(3 hours later): Could you tell me how I get to the highway?

I don’t have to walk that chick to the car, she’s a super ninja chick. I mean it, I’m more worried for the guys that might encounter her on her way to the car.

I wish there were more movies about horses. Even ponies.

Man she was wild. But when she talked dirty her voice sounded like Clint Eastwood, the older version. After a while it started getting to me. I mean I’m fairly cool, but how cool can you be when you hear an aging Clint Eastwood talking the talk in the middle of a pretzel formation?

I just grabbed a bite at Rick’s Roadhouse. It’s like an unofficial frat house for high school kids who never made it to college.

You know what they say? Nothing’s private. Who the fuck are they and why are they butting into my business?

He said that she said that they said that they were disrespecting me and them. What’s up with that?

Netroots Nation? I‘ll stick to the Red Sox version.

He said his word of honor is sacred, like some cowboy in a black and white film, then he dry-gulched him, just like some cowboy in a black and white film.

If goddamned Romney manages to get elected I promise you I’ll jump off the hurricane barrier in my boxers and kicks, wearing a pig’s mask and clutching my wallet (along with middle class existence) in my teeth.

I love New England. Maybe the freaks flags don’t fly as high as they do in Cali, but I think they germinate three times as much deeper here. Even on the freak side, the east coast is just more evolved in its own devolution.

First Guy: Is drinking a pastime, a necessity, or simply part of the natural order of things ? Can you tell me?
Second Guy: I don’t know, are you buying?

Pushing Too Hard

Writer’s block is an insidious disease, purely psychological (however one’s psyche is effected by outside forces), and it also seems to be a condition that that further compounds itself the more one dwells upon it. The bottom line is that I simply haven’t mustered the energy, wherewithal, smarts, aggressiveness, groove, sense of purpose, moment of creativity, authorial whimsy, just plain get up and go to knock off a blog entry since November last year. While I realize that my blog has never achieved any widespread popularity or substantial readership, it has for many years functioned has a source of entertainment and pop culture enlightenment for a selected few, while dually serving as a reason for me to continue my lifelong pursuit of the snap, crackle, and (yup) pop of . No excuses, although the unceremonious dropping of my movie column in Providence Monthly—my only current paying writing gig—was a blow, further exacerbated by the inexplicable lack of an offer to write a bye-bye piece, and made doubly hard to swallow by being told me replacement would be a (gulp) wellness column, did indeed contribute to my sudden lack of confidence and execution. None the less, I am determined to carve out a comeback, starting right now. Nuff said.