though that one might be worth only a couple hundred. in fact, that picture of 3rd bass was so out of left field, that initially, i came to a short stop, and had to center my thoughts before going on. luckily i was home at the time. i decided i needed to take a break and eat, so i walked to the kitchen and put some food on my plate. i filled up on grub, which unfortunately gave me the runs. so, i sat down on the john and had a ball scoring with a couple of craps. then bare foot, i watched dice-k pitch for the sox.
mulligan and desmond go good together, don't they? miles once said about desmond that "an alto ain't supposed to sound that way!" oh yeah? well fuck you miles. my dad once stood outside of peps while miles was playing. all he remembers is miles muttering about "white motherfuckers" in between tunes. so, i suppose he wasn't all bad. and i seem to recall an album called kind of blue balls, featuring cannon balls and his penetrating horn, e.
he also stood outside of a coltrane gig. this time, he tried to understand what was going on, and just couldn't do it. this was during the end of trane's life, when his music was often hard to dig. still i envy a time when one could stand outside of a club where trane and miles were playing, whether you enjoyed it or not.
the fourth has come forth, and is now here, i hear. on this day, i want us to think of all the lives we have taken so the world can live in pieces. on this day, we shall all celebrate freedom by either setting off fake explosions, or watching while others set off fake explosions. still others, the heros among us, will set off real explosions, and perhaps receive medals for their deeds. many more will pontificate about our great nation, while others will listen closely, deluded that they are hearing deep truths. the hip among us will dig the twilight zone marathon, but the most hip among won't be able to see it, since it is on cable. others will drink. one man, who feels more like a woman, will say that all he wants to do "is eat, drink, and be mary." well, on this day, i salute the fag, and not only that, but i stand with rainbow fags for mumia. i knock on nick wood that mumia will see the light of day, and we will get to the martha root of the evil that is embedded in our criminal justice system. i hate to peltier you with these random thoughts, ron, but i feel the need to cey what is on my mind. my AIM is to speak truth to tyrone power, so that i can help to create a society of young lords, god like creatures with minds that are quick like a panther. you may snccer at these remarks, but remember to be civil, for i too have rights, and by exercising my rights, i feel liberated, as if i am no longer at war with myself. iraq my brains to think of the words to describe how i feel, but there is a gulf between my thoughts and the words that come out. i am syrias about this. as i sit here in the east, i feel caught in the middle, waiting for the obama to be dropped on me. kenya believe it? for, it is all true, and while i try to raise mccain, no one seems to care. sinatra once said that no one cares, but when he said this he was not quite in the september of his years. i hate to reprise these old lines, but they are the only capitol i have left. perhaps my problem is that i don't fall asleep until the wee small hours of the morning. yes, i suppose the whole thing is a riddle that may or may not be solved. in the mean time, i think of hitting myself over the head with a billy club and ending it all, but all i do is sy as tixon watches oliver. well, as long as she needs me, i vengco were i must be.
well, this has been pun, but it is time for me to depart. i have played depart many times, and it still doesn't seem reel. and so, its been another bloggy day in old beantown.
until now.
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