burn west hollywood burn in
burn west hollywood burn
in case you didn’t believe EVERYONE IN THE WORLD, christmas trees are as flammable as you have heard.
Articles from December 2003
A Message To Everyone Have
A Message To Everyone
Have a happy, safe New Year. I wish the best 2004 to all of you. Have fun tonight, bet your drunk on, and get your makeout on with a good looking person or two. Love to you all, and Happy Motherfucking New Year. If you are a cute girl/woman on Sunset Blvd. tonight and you wanna get your makeout on with a criminally attractive, overwhelmingly girthy, award winning, booker prize nominated, diplomat to Zaire, internet celebrity then holler at me. One Love.
The Way The Cookie Crumbles.
The Way The Cookie Crumbles.
The boss, the stoner and the drunk girl say thank you very much for the nice card and cookies. Very thoughtful, very funny and very sweet, I hope you had a great christmas and I wish you both a very happy and prosperous new year.
Alpacas I saw a commercial
Alpacas
I saw a commercial for this site in Texas. I couldn’t remember what the animal was called and I have definitely never seen one before. The way I described them to matt was that it was like a llama that could fly, but I was a little off. Anyhow if you are looking to invest in a strange animal that I can’t imagine anyone buying then this could be for you.
Dear LAX, I know it
Dear LAX,
I know it is Orange right now and there are people carrying Almanacs around, but if you are going to totally revamp the picking up of people rules then you should really have a sign or two. I wasn’t trying to be crafty when i pulled over to the curb right in front of Searcy, and I should reiterate that I also did not have an Almanac. I was just trying to get my friend off of the curb the same way that Lydia picked me up three hours earlier with no troubles. Also, a member of your lesbian police force was rather unfriendly toward me, and had an unsightly scar on her chin. Could you fix both of those things for me please? Also, I don’t really like the way that she caught me in a lie or two. I’m not scared of her so she can lose the tough act. That’s all.
Sincerely,
Jason F. King (yes, that Jason F. King)
P.S. Terminal three could use a facelift.
Kids, Poetry…What is Happening to
Kids, Poetry…What is Happening to Me? The Holidays Apparently Make Me Sensitive.
Anyway. I am super into the Roman Empire right now. It is today to me what all things French Revolution were to me a month ago. Anyone who knows me or who has caught some little quips on my sidebar knows that I despise about 95% of all of the poetry that I have ever read; and I have read quite a lot of it. I am not going to go into which poets I like and which ones I don’t. Most of the ones that I like lived in Paris between 1900-1930. Most of the ones that I don’t like live in America between 1975-present. And slam poetry and “def” poetry are godawful. Get a fucking DJ. Ok, I strayed from the point again.
So if I despise poetry this much, then imagine how I feel about Love Poetry. Just typing the words makes me want to microwave my fingers. However, there was a Roman poet/satirist named Catullus who lived in the first century B.C. who transformed the love poetry (ugh) of the Greeks and made it more personal and as far as I know it was all written about one woman. And in poems he covers every aspect of the emotion of love: the good…. the initial excitement, the nervousness, passion, sex, lust, comfort, everyday being better than the one before. And the bad: the boredom, the deception, the vanity, the games, the jealousy, the anger, the heartbreak, everyday being worse than the one before. And the thing is, people have been writing the exact same emotions for the past 2000 years, and most of their words don’t work very well. There are very few that do work. Very, very few. So for the most part people have just been recycling Catullus in song and word. Have all of our emotions already been felt for us? Anyhow, Catullus died alone and bitter at the age of 30. I would recommend looking into him a little, and the Romans in general. If you don’t know about the life of Julius Caesar, you should really read a book about him. His life was quite interesting to say the least. Here is a Catullus poem that I like, and the last line I like quite a lot. There is some historical significance of this poem that I will not go into…
Far greater than Jove
the man who can sit
undaunted while watching and hearing you
laughing so sweetly-
while I on my part
am deprived of my senses
if only, Lesbia [his pseudonym for his muse] I catch a glimpse of you:
voiceless and tongue-tied
I feel a faint fire
steal over my limbs;
blood pounds in my ears, the light in my eyes
is shrouded in midnight
(leisure, Catullus, leisure is your disease.
It’s leisure that gives you leave to play the fool.
Rich cities have been pulled down by too much leisure,
kings have been ruined.)
Merry Christmas to Heather My
Merry Christmas to Heather
My gift to Heather. It is a Victorian Dressform. I saw it and I knew that I had to get it for her. It is old, rough around the edges, and needed some work but it is awesome; just like Heather. Kidding. I saw it and I had to buy it for her, there is just one problem…it is fragile, heavy, expensive-ish and in Texas. I have no idea how I am supposed to get this thing to Los Angeles. I thought about buying an extra seat on the plane for my new 150 year old steel Victorian Ladyfriend, but no. So, I think that myself, Lyd, Searc and Heath should rent a van and take a road trip soon. A good excuse for a trip.
P.S. I look like crap and short in this photograph. I hadn’t slept for a couple of nights so I did some photoshopping to hide my usually super-attractive self, though unusually unphotogenic self in this picture from the scorn.
P.P.S. The guitar that you are gonna get me for xmas….you can buy it and ship it to Milwaukee or wherever it is that you are from. Oh, right it’s Milwaukee.
I Hate Brian Wilson or
I Hate Brian Wilson
or
Bermuda, Montana, Come on Pretty Mama
Key Largo, Virginia, Baby Why Don’t We Go…..
My sister and I have gotten a lot closer over the past couple of years. We have become friends. I can’t even begin to describe how much this means to me. Her entire family is incredible, and when I visit Texas it gives me a taste of what it is like to have children. it ain’t always fun and games. Examples:
-stitches
-a 10 year old riding his brand new several hundred dollar electric scooter into an iron fence which causes his face and hand to hit said fence also. The scooter is bent up and the kid is bleeding crying, and now he and his younger brother are scared of the scooters that you have just spent well over $1000 on.
-Beach Boys cd’s “turning themselves on” at 4 AM and although you really like Pet Sounds, the Beach Boys invading your dreams can be creepy. And when Kokomo comes on it is just too much and you are out of bed at 4:45 AM, confused. I have been singing the line “god only knows what i’d be without you” for 5 days straight. When will it end?
-Real arguments about Coca-Cola.
-Having your SUV broken into and the DVD player that was a gift for your sons is stolen, and now they are sad and scared because there is crime in your upper-middle class neighborhood.
All in all, it’s not like it is in the movies or on TV; it’s better. And when one of those kids says something clever or funny or smart, just as an Uncle all I can do is smile from ear to ear and give them a hug and laugh. I can’t imagine the feeling that you get when they are your own kids. You guys are so lucky. You have the greatest kids in the world. God only knows what I’d be without you.
a message to all of
a message to all of the girls who made love on top of me in 2003:
you’re welcome.
it’s a bird, it’s a
it’s a bird, it’s a plane, it is supercock.
or
my posts are starting to become very free-verse. with no plot. no development. strictly stream of consciousness.
keep in mind the post a few days ago about my death. follow my guidelines, or don’t. what the fuck will i care actually? but, if i do happen to die, i want you all to call me a prophet. and since i am prophesizing……
-paris hilton’s album will bomb
-i will still have never seen an episode of american idol. ever.
-girls will talk about my blog minutes before i give it to them properly.
-shrek
-the sdotcarter reebok will be discontinued because as much as i like jay-z (jigga, j-hova, the black brad pitt, etc. etc.) the shoe is fucking busted and totally overpriced. rappers shouldn’t have shoe lines. period. sports stars only.
-shawn kemp is fat
-kobe won’t go to prison and karl malone will renounce utah, his name, his voice, that shit he said about magic johnson a long time ago, his name and voice again, his stupid free-throw style….and then i will like him. fuck. i actually already kind of like him. so hard to admit this.
this post is supposed to be something else, but for the first time in the career of my site i am feeling self-censored. like i don’t want this person to know this, and i don’t want to say this about that persons business, and i don’t want her to know about her or her or her, or tell all of her business. oh what tangled webs we weave…..
so i won’t write about that stuff… i’m really fucking happy. i hope that all of you are. i hope that i don’t die on that airplane tomorrow.. i hope that all of “us” get what we want in 2004. i want an infiniti. and 300 hits per day. and a fireproof house. word. life.