waiting for my muse in a dark alley with an aluminum bat

unedited pure neanderthal musings NeANDERThallus's DONut EDiT!!! historical records from my cave walls... brutality, menial labor, minor victories, hot sexy interludes....... 3 years on the edges of a society that i cant distance myself enough from

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since 2005 i've been picking at this keyboard. the thoughtstreams flow, who knows from whence they came, or to whence they go? enjoy the ride...... i am

Monday, February 25, 2008

the escape pod is ready for launch
i may just ditch south philly
right before summer
for wildwood
a promise of a job
which couldnt be worse than the one i have now
the chane of venue to beach side
and now im a loser at the beach
instead of just another drunk on a block full of the
chock full of substance abusers and racists
i will flee to the sea
and worry about september in september
pay rent at the beach instead of in this place
this place that boils the balls off of me in the simmer
stuffy, ovenlike
my apartment in august is hot cottonballs in your mouth stuffy
i dring 2 gallons of beer never pee a drop
i sweat it all out, leaving puddles where i sit
this could be the start of my vagabond existence phase
always been a dream
whats keeping me in towne except laziness?
i know the beach suits me
its a mini adventure
getting ready for the big move to teach english in korea of vietnam
then where?
do some zen in japan on breaks from school
see if it really suits me to be alone with my thoughts
spend a couple years over on that side of the world
swing thru austrailia on the way back and visit relatives
become a world famous globetrotting bum
then costa rica and brazil
see the mayan ruins before the owners return
athen back home in time for the apocalypse
which will be the title of my travelougue
"home in time for the apocalypse"
or is "home for the apocalypse" a tighter title
tight titles.com might know
title tightening in 30 minutes or its free!
i mean really
people are always claiming im a smart guy
a smart guy would find a way to live at the beach again
if he was all that smart
yeah

Sunday, February 24, 2008

i wake up angry
sobriety does this to my brain
my happy juice
it makes me smile as the first half of the pint hits my belly and brain
my mood improves
im interested in conversations again
they dont seem like as much a waste of time
sober, i know all the answers
sober is a scary place to live
soriety is hopelesness
mean calculations
saving for the utilities
i dont need to dance in the juniper berries everynight
sobriety has its time and pace and uses
its just when someone says sober as a judge
they arent complimenting your personality
theres a line between uptight and loose that i have been walking the last few weeks
when i wakeup still drunk from a latenight
whilst clearing the cobwebs i have fine notions
distilled wisdom maybe
nuggets of truth
like
everything is a cat toy
life is a poker game
two money ideas right there
everything is a cat toy is the punchline
10,000 bucks goes to the funniest pet comedian
hello my name is fluffy
im a post op transspeciate
to humanize me they removed my feline grace and replaced it with a sense of shame
they took my purr, it became ennui
funy stuff, huh?
so maybe i dont win the 10 gees from the catfood company with that stuff
hey
im workshopping here

life is a poker game is a book
poker is all about situations
situations where the prettiest cards in the land can break you
where the meager inherit the pot
where courage is rewarded handsomely
those without fear
the fear of going broke
those who play like money is a delusion
they win
disrespect the cash
but respect the power it has over your openents minds
understand their fears
exploit them
treat them like an atm
all whilst pretending to be their pal
oh that was unlucky there man
you really had me there
poker as a classroom
professor bakeowski
the students profit from hanging out with me
gaining wisdom
so the university of life opens whenever i sit down at a poker table
they pay me tution in the form of their bets
they gain wisdom from me
are enriched by my aura
no one loses
sometimes there is a guest lecturer involved
a visiting professor
and sometimes
lady luck is just a vicious bitch
all of a sudden your roof is gone
your baby is in the cornfield
your trailer in ribbons

but poker books are boring
unless there is more in there
than stupid cards and how you played them

and psychotic kittens arent funny
they are scary
a furry horror movie

so back to the drawing board
back to the jade forest
back to my patch of sunshine
try again
start fresh tommorrow
see if the words start running for me
flowing
thoughtstreams becoming turbulent rivers
or if they hit another damn dam
fuck the damned dam
fuck jean claude van damme
claw down the dam
i command thee
mutant kittys from the alley
with titanium claws
shredders of door jambs
nothing can stand in the way of me and my kitty army

Saturday, February 23, 2008

started a book yesterday and finished today
a memoir by a yalie
it was about a bar that meant alot to him
but now the pussy doesnt drink
he lost me when he put forth the idea that he could either drink or try
so thats his problem
hes too big a pussy to write and drink
actually alot of the book is about growing up as a pussy
and being a pussy with no dad
and how strong a man his mama was
and it tricked me for a few hundred pages
tricked me with beautiful metaphors into thinking that something real and true was going to happen
that it was going somewhere
that there were some hardwon truths coming
but they remained elusive
cleverly worded sentences tho
his house growing up was a "shanty irish version of the last supper reanacted everynite"
was a pretty funny line
and the one about taking advise about facing fear from two smelly homos hiding out in the back room of a bookstore was another keeper
but it seemed mostly about not being able to write a book
not being able to write a college term paper
not being able to write a book about a bar
and his massive insecurities about these failures and
you know what
at the end of the book i began believing him that he could not write
you hear something enough times and you become brainwashed to the idea
advertising in action
which is why i can only tell manly stories
when i choose to tell them
stories about how i am the man
because thats how i live
being a man
and while interesting
the life of a pussy had nothing to offer me in the end
ironic that the guy who cant write makes his living as a writer
but in the end
pooh
a day wasted?
not entirely
i learned about how a pussy from yale thinks about the world and that may pay off someday at a poker table when im looking deeply into someones soul to see if they are lying or not
and now i understan my cats better
meow

chilling at the homestead
shoveled some snow
dragged in some firewood
stared at the fire
better, by far, than tv
hungry flames
all manner of red hues, touches of blue when it really gets crackling
flames of history
our history started when we started to control fire
our lives became longer
words invented
but control is never complete
and fire is always hungry
the same flames licked rome as the barbarian hordes swept thru
the same ones that took out the towers
burned countless jews
fire is waiting for us to get sleepy in bed
with that last joint one more joint, one last joint
patiently waiting
tara is one fire
damn yankees
nuclear sunlight
as the sun dies and goes nova we all burn up
but we wont be around that long
we will incinerate each other when the oil runs out
then the food
a few fortresses will hold out against the savage masses
until they run out of bullets
a few small tribes will get thru it all
and maybe they will be more humane to one another
maybe this time they will respect the earth
the mayan calender is ending soon 2012
life is just a party and parties werent meant to last
2011, party over oops outta time
tonight im gonna party like its
two thousand and eleven
party over earths outta time
cuz mayan spaceships are returning
and the spacemn are pretty pissed at our stewardship of their colony
it takes them 2500 years one way
2500 to get back
the 5000 year calender is at an end in 2012
so i better get cracking on my book
before the flames or the spaceships get here
better write something worth burning

Friday, February 22, 2008

asshole manager has limited skills
hes either pissed off and bitchy
which is usually
or dour and sarcastic
no one ever taught you to....
nope that would take time
that would take effort
and he reluctantly shows me how to perform another simple task
speaking slowly as if to a retarded kid
or hell get all paternal on ya
like you are his six year old and say
way to go man
good job buddy
insincerity oozing

thinks hes winning the battle this way
enjoying his assholinity
he knows everything
hes so smart hes my hero
my captor
no way ill get patty hearst syndrome tho
im an economic hostage
in light of that i save every dime
no more bar nights
no more lunch deliveries
i have to save for my escape
collect enough to dramatically walk off the job
three months rent sould be enough
i have a month and a half now
soon
soon
with three months rent and a little hustle i should be able to nurture a dream
just need to feel out a few cash money jobs
maybe line up a tennis job in the summer
tough it out until then
sub in the fall
better cash less hours
my resume gets stronger every day
i send it out during my break to needy employers
no bites yet
revised to fit each employers needs
but all they have to do is google bakeowski
and im in the DONT HIRE pile
what do i want to do
i ask myself
reflecting
my own job counsellor
the answer is
as it always is
as little as possible
i want to read books in the sunshine with my jade forest
i want to scriobble delusions online and in my journals
maybe get a blowjob evey now and then
play a little tennis
are they hiring?

Sunday, February 17, 2008

If I had time for amusements,

I would be writing my breakthrough children’s book, “Danger! Kitten”


Look out danger kitty!

..... here comes the guy that feeds you


I think ill run and hide, said danger kitten,

doing just that,

in a flash,

she was out of the kitchen and under the bed again.

sAfe.

“whew ,that was a close one . “ Danger kitty thought to herself,

congratulating herself on yet another narrow escape.
The sound of cat food hitting the bottom of the plastic bowl drew her out from her lair. Suspiciously she advanced, using the door jamb as cover.


Alarmed or asleep are this kitties two modes.

Sometimes sleepily alarmed and sometimes going from alarm, suspiciously into sleep.

Always with half an eye on you, watching your every move.

ever vigilant im afraid that danger kitty thinks that I am a communist and that she is defending the world from my clutches.
But there is no time for trifles like itty books in these troubled times. There are injustices to fight, polar bears to sing eulogies for, beer to drink and rugby to play.

but do i do anyhing at all to make the world a better place?

to ease the suffering of humanity?

sure i do

i write down snatches of half developed psychotic musings

and the world is a better place

becasue im not out on some stret corner somewhere

starting fires

Sunday, February 10, 2008

sometimes i need to hole up
avoid human contact
its not that i have to save my energy for some fantastic enterprise
i dont
unless there is one lurking on the horizon
surprise, say kirk and spock
beaming me directly onto the bridge for the latest intergalactic sex romp
and these bitches are blue
not that
no plans are good plans on a windy sunday
when the newspaper boxes are blowing over left and right
when i stare out at the clouds and what could be a flock of birds
no...
its just some more plastic takeaway bags
flyingin formation
cruising along ten feet above the rooftops
3 floors up headed due east
like the clouds above
im gonna have to talk to assholes all day tomorrow at work and so on til friday
harry needs some down time
some lay around with the kitties time
i dont want to feel the rush rush of any sort of schedule
even the friendliest one
i dont want to spend a fucking cent today
i dont want to wait one second for one motherfucking bus
its my day off
i dont even want to catch a bus to ac to invest my pay at the poker tables
my first idea for the day
because that seems like work
ill lay here in this patch of sunshine
reread this book
and maybe head to the laundromat when its empty around three
listen to a symphony
recharge
rethink
and now that my tv has died the thinking is more common
i hope i come up with something soon
now that the distraction box is no longer venting toxins into my living space
cat hair
this will be something to look foreward to cleaning up regularly
and plotting flea genocide
should my kitties prove tasty
hmm
great great thoughts
read some bits of st augustine today
might be my bus book
i like empty sundays best i think
no stupid football
hmmmm

Thursday, February 07, 2008

she says life's short
alternately
life's too short
she may be right
it sure was short for an ex teammate of mine
now playing rugby in heaven
24 years olde
i have been playing rugby for as long as he was alive
dies from complications from a chemical accident at his work
he didnt have time too fuck his life up
to become overwhelmed by the mundane details of our "civilization"
to have to get up and got to work every fucking day for decades
to participate in the circle of debt
hakuna you owe me
to become a drag
to become boring
rugby games are short
eighty minutes long
stoppages when the ball is out of bounds
or when a penalty is committed
it seems like a long time when you are out there
when your lungs are complaining
when your legs feel spent
but just a few yards away is more mayhem
so you get up off the ground again
disentangling limbs if neccessary
maybe shoving an enemy back to the ground just for fun
you get your legs moving again by cussing at yourself
goading them to move
come on legs move it, get there
and before you know it the game is over and the discussions of you being out of shape begin
no one can be in good enough shape for this game
the better you are prepared, the rgeater the licking your body will take
the faster you run the more times you run into people at high speeds
a rugby season is built upon your physique
which you construct to be faster this year with more stairs and plyometrics
more powerful this year with heavier weights and core training
more durable this year with hundreds of miles of running situps and dips

and what do you do with this temple you have erected?
a monumet to masclinity
the temple of mars

who let all these visigoths into my sacred temple complex?
time to clean some house

such an incredible waste of time and energy
rugby
but what else can you do with the rage?
and not go to jail
a man needs an outlet for mayhem
and you need to find about 25 sick fucks like yourself to ply your trade on weekends
with two practices a week
which makes your creaky bones a hell of a lot of fun to be around
beat up and cranky and sore
you are the perfect man
or so you would think

you realize how short life is when it ends
do you wish you did more on the rugby field when the final whistle blows?
or will you crawl off exhausted
completely spent
temple in ruins
visigoths in piles around you
and start rebuilding the temple tomorrow

Sunday, February 03, 2008

guy came to the parts counter to get his furnace and things
asked how i was doing
i answered honestly
i said i had had high hopes for today
i was hoping that it wouldnt suck as much as yesterday did
that i was trying to stay positive
but the unrelenting suckiness of my job was hard to avoid
working with assholes
trying to stay above the smelly carnage
attempting to step lightly around the huge steaming piles
the piles that have assumed almost continental mass
the clearspots few and far between
like one of the seven lords in song
i am aleaping
trying to stay shitstain free
unsuccessfully
but theres always tomorow
its only a day away
thats why i love it

ima beast ima beast ima mutha-fuckin beast

thats the hook

to my newest hip hop jawn

about me being a beast

the old farmer needed some wood split

so he rented a machine and pointed me to the piles

dragging the thing through soft ground was only one of the many beasttreats in store

the thing weighed a few hundred easy

steel cross beams and a piston that puched the logs towards a pointy metal chunk

the logs were on the big side because the lumberjack they hired to do the tree cutting is obviously a beast too

big chunks of wood

some loaded from the rain and frozen to the ground

good beast fun

i did alot of growling

the snot flowed freely from my nose

exertion driving all the air from my lungs as i jerked another three hundred pounder off the ground and onto the machine

my choice was wipe the snot or hold onto the heavyness

a snot beard makes one look more beastly, anyhow

when i used up all my retard strength

i applied my farmboy strength and when that started to falter i noticed the machine was leaking fluid

john henry like i outworked another machine

the knotty frozen wood was too much for the machine

so i quit working

for the sake of the machine

and walked like a cave beast

hunched over from the back

partially in spasm

legs feeling like id lifted a few vw bugs

the beast is back

what would harry beast do/

my new mantra

im harry beast

its what i do

if i feel like this for a month or so there might be some hurtin rugby players in my future

hehehehehehe