Saturday, February 25, 2012


I've wasted too much time renting space in resentment housing. The rent is low there but the neighbors never stop complaining about my midnight crying. I either have to grow up or get thicker walls and we all know I'm not going to grow up any time soon because that would put me in the company of some drawn out rat race hustlers who pimped themselves out to dreams their parents whispered to them while they slept. Not lies but propaganda and indoctrination like the Lorax shilling 3D film, chocolate chip pancakes and Mazda cars that get worse gas mileage than my 1974 Vespa Ciao. If Jesus could sell hamburgers he would be raised on the golden arches with ketchup coming out his nose.
Someone else may luck out on the $250 Sr-500 Bartolini pickup bass guitar I foolishly passed up back at the Hawk Shop by the bridge that crushed a truck but that can't prevent me from sharpening my rhythm guitar skills. Three and 4 note chords are all that are expected of the big band and or swing band rhythm guitarist. The grips are a few more than 20 and cover most scenarios that Bob Wills can throw at me. The new band will be called The Cow Punchers from Amarillo. We won't be from Amarillo and we won't punch cows but the important thing is to swing like a clock dangling from Nat King Cole's pompadour. Tickets go on sale February 30th.
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