The world was made from nothing..
..sometimes the nothing shows through.
Spent a lovely weekend in Olympia. Friday hung out at a bar with two people I have not seen in years. Jen with her lovely artful eyes and tender, expressive face that scrunches up like a paper bag one second and then relaxes to such a stoic grace the next you can only smile at what a miracle she is, how in awe you are that she even exists. Eppy beat my ass at pinball but whatever, I'd give him a run for his money if I'd ever played Dirty Harry before, I mean he's logged like 8,000 hours on that one machine so I didn't have much of a chance in hell. So that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. Was a beautiful night of beer and meandering about a playground and talking to Eppy beneath the quiet sphere of Olympia's tiny sky and then of course..Shari's at 2am and the goddamned quiche...get quiche! get it to go!
Next day went on an incredible hike with the folks over at Mt Rainer. Fairy land trail with alien flowers straight out of Dr. Suess and patches of snow to slide about on and deliver well-deserved snowballs at my father as he and my mother debate who should be wearing the best hat. My silly, sweet, funny folks. I crack my father up with profane jokes about Jack in the Box and my mother feigns disgust but can't help laughing because she has the sort of sense of humor that could make a sailor blush.
Got off the bus in Seattle last night.. exhausted from my days with no sleep and so much sun and sore feet from hiking. Walking home get bugged by guys twice in a row...Fuck off, asshole I do not give a fuck if you think I'm pretty..I'm walking here guy, go to hell. Why is it that when I feel the most tired, the most heavy with thoughts that are as far from fucking as the east is from the west, when I really look the shittiest..eyes bleary, swollen and tired..face sunburnt and dry and broken out, back a helix of pain, feet blistered and begging for an epsom salt soak, pits swampy and pungent having sweated off the Tom's of Maine 8 hours ago...THAT is when the universe decides to send a flood of horny assholes my way who want to sidle up next to me and yap about stupid shit.. Grumpy and sullen I stumbled into the bar by my house intent on a double gin n' tonic and some journal time.. get into an almost fight with another guy who just didn't understand why I wouldn't want to quit what I was doing and listen to his vocal diarrhea. I guess he asked the bartender about me, bartender said I was a social worker (thanks bar guy) so Fuck-Head is all "hey, aren't you supposed to be nice..isn't that your job?" Yeah. that's it. I say "Look, I paid my 6 bucks for this drink and I'm going to sit here and do what I intended to do and what I intend to do does not include you at all. If you bother me again you will see that not only am I "not nice" but I am a murderer..or I will be once I stab you repeatedly in the face and stomache. Got it?" Fuck, I would have too. They would have hauled my ass off to jail I was so ready to decapitate this man. I will have eaten cereal out of his cracked and empty skull. All in all, he left quietly and I finished my drink with no further upsets.
What kind of person am I? What does it really mean that I am a social worker?
I am a good person, but not a nice person. For example, if you are choking I would be the first person to jump up and be willing to do whatever it takes to free your airway..puke on me if you must, so what? There will be other clothes. I would never go out of my way to hurt anyone, when I step on a bug I cringe with guilt. However, should you push expectations of politeness on me, shove yourself into my line of sight and tell me to smile..well, I will tell you to go get stabbed and then turn back to my book with a free and breezy conscience.
So have some respect, and take your fucking Fuck Glasses off when you look at me.
now stick that in your skull and shut your mouth.
Spent a lovely weekend in Olympia. Friday hung out at a bar with two people I have not seen in years. Jen with her lovely artful eyes and tender, expressive face that scrunches up like a paper bag one second and then relaxes to such a stoic grace the next you can only smile at what a miracle she is, how in awe you are that she even exists. Eppy beat my ass at pinball but whatever, I'd give him a run for his money if I'd ever played Dirty Harry before, I mean he's logged like 8,000 hours on that one machine so I didn't have much of a chance in hell. So that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. Was a beautiful night of beer and meandering about a playground and talking to Eppy beneath the quiet sphere of Olympia's tiny sky and then of course..Shari's at 2am and the goddamned quiche...get quiche! get it to go!
Next day went on an incredible hike with the folks over at Mt Rainer. Fairy land trail with alien flowers straight out of Dr. Suess and patches of snow to slide about on and deliver well-deserved snowballs at my father as he and my mother debate who should be wearing the best hat. My silly, sweet, funny folks. I crack my father up with profane jokes about Jack in the Box and my mother feigns disgust but can't help laughing because she has the sort of sense of humor that could make a sailor blush.
Got off the bus in Seattle last night.. exhausted from my days with no sleep and so much sun and sore feet from hiking. Walking home get bugged by guys twice in a row...Fuck off, asshole I do not give a fuck if you think I'm pretty..I'm walking here guy, go to hell. Why is it that when I feel the most tired, the most heavy with thoughts that are as far from fucking as the east is from the west, when I really look the shittiest..eyes bleary, swollen and tired..face sunburnt and dry and broken out, back a helix of pain, feet blistered and begging for an epsom salt soak, pits swampy and pungent having sweated off the Tom's of Maine 8 hours ago...THAT is when the universe decides to send a flood of horny assholes my way who want to sidle up next to me and yap about stupid shit.. Grumpy and sullen I stumbled into the bar by my house intent on a double gin n' tonic and some journal time.. get into an almost fight with another guy who just didn't understand why I wouldn't want to quit what I was doing and listen to his vocal diarrhea. I guess he asked the bartender about me, bartender said I was a social worker (thanks bar guy) so Fuck-Head is all "hey, aren't you supposed to be nice..isn't that your job?" Yeah. that's it. I say "Look, I paid my 6 bucks for this drink and I'm going to sit here and do what I intended to do and what I intend to do does not include you at all. If you bother me again you will see that not only am I "not nice" but I am a murderer..or I will be once I stab you repeatedly in the face and stomache. Got it?" Fuck, I would have too. They would have hauled my ass off to jail I was so ready to decapitate this man. I will have eaten cereal out of his cracked and empty skull. All in all, he left quietly and I finished my drink with no further upsets.
What kind of person am I? What does it really mean that I am a social worker?
I am a good person, but not a nice person. For example, if you are choking I would be the first person to jump up and be willing to do whatever it takes to free your airway..puke on me if you must, so what? There will be other clothes. I would never go out of my way to hurt anyone, when I step on a bug I cringe with guilt. However, should you push expectations of politeness on me, shove yourself into my line of sight and tell me to smile..well, I will tell you to go get stabbed and then turn back to my book with a free and breezy conscience.
So have some respect, and take your fucking Fuck Glasses off when you look at me.
now stick that in your skull and shut your mouth.
posted by Human at 10:18 AM
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