posted on December 29, 2005 at 12:15 pm

i am
too much sun
burn baby burn
oooh touchy touchy
ah dont pat my back man
aloe vera
calamine lotion
how did this happen to meee?

was talking to rpk bout surfies
what a concept
i had ambitions to be a surfie
with a small hitch that i couldnae actually surf
but the lifestyle certainly appealed to the 17 year olde me
a couple o kids dropped outta our high school
turned up 6 months later
brown as berries
hair turned into blond straw
(which i personally thought was amazing)
faded cool clothes…levi cords
a houndstooth flannel shirt
and they drove and lived in panel vans
they parked next to beaches
ate vegeburgers and chips
slept in the van
pulled loads of ye olde style surfie gurlss
and generally had this zen air
of indifference to the tawdry proto- “straight”
lives of all of us still at the schooly
i envied those guys
they were like the wild bunch
breakin the law
takin dangerous risks
in every conceivable mannah….!
i dont think many made it thru alive…
they lived outsyde the norms
they interpretated the greene currents and swells
they knocked up pretty gurlss in black van darkness
they roamed the coasts searching for raw kicks
and incredibly subtle pleasures
they got together at night
and tripped by bonfires on the beach
dawn found em still loaded
hurtling across the waves
out of their tiny skulls
you see
being a surfie
was as attractive a career
to a neophyte boho
like me
as being a basse weildin’ superstar
both involved no real “work”
“work” is what the “straights” do
i am allergic to instructions
instruct me
and you waste your time
i do not follow maps
cannae assemble kinder surprises
much to daughters dissappointment
cant follow recipes
cant do equations
cant deduce from brochure
cant read stock indexs
doesnt completely understand the rules of
base and basket ball
car racing
voting system
how a car works
why we must have wars
why we are always the goode guys
why they are always the badde guys
why “straights” eat meat in mauseleum mansion
listnin’ to robbie willy -ams
and texting on their moby
why bohos drink tao juice and nut cutlets
in their coole padde
with feng shooey
an’ everything…
how do you use a logarhythm??
beats me
how many furlongs in a fathom?
i dont recall just now
let x equal y there, kilbey!
sorry sir, i cant…
whats that boy…cant..?….cant…?
it wont go sir
i hannae fuckin idea
about this
or any other
of the arithmetrical
you have
been spouting
good lord boy, do you think you can make a living
playing your damned electric guitar…?

oh mr norris
you had it so sussed

well its certainly getting late here
flat sitting
dont expect this kinda pro liffic
when im back in the i cafes
this is a little yuletide treet
for the faith full
for the thicke and thinners
for the kilbettes
and killbeeings
for the sk-crazy ladies of the knight

for pam and perry
and their parole officer timpkins
for bill
a nightmare on neptune street
yeah see ya next drought you olde shysstah
for gerald who loves fritz fernidand and podcastes
for howie in san diego who loves the crunch
for wilo leading a loverevolution in darkest vulture streets
for the lovely commenterss
who say v. nice things
appreciated my droogies
maintain the rage
fly the sk flagge
if it aint sk…send it away
be kind to yourselves
you are even now
in my heart of hearts
you grace this blogg with your presents and presence
i love thee
so much

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