Back To The Drawing Board

When love serves you lemons? Do you say fuck the lemons and bail??

My problem is, I love lemonade. Both bitter and sweet, and I can make each taste comfortably delicious, while numbing the throat and vocal chords. Also paralyzing the brain. This, of course, makes putting up with the love served lemons more tolerable and adds an extra --insert time frame here-- to your relationship. Sometimes the added time proves itself to be useful, but in unfortunate cases, it only proves to be dreadful, drawn out and asinine.

I haven't reached the point of conclusion, where I figure out which case my current situation is headed for. Objection and I move to strike! Even though I have quite a clue to which track I'm pulling up in, denial and defeat inevitably has stalled me for a hot second. I'm sure curiosity has a little to do with some things also. Mixed with various amounts of stupidity and denseness. But, so be it.

Afterall, I've already been through much, much worse.

stone hearts don't bleed

Septa/Dick Connection

You can also view this very article on the other blog I write for Philly Neighbor. They're kickass!

I've never pretended to be mature. Okay, well maybe once or twice when it really "counted" but I've always been rather pleased with the fact that I haven't grown up fully. Farts still make me blush and giggle. 'That's what he/she said' STILL comes out of my mouth at least 3-5 times daily. None of that will ever change for me. And I wouldn't want it to.

I'd like to consider myself a 13 year old boy, if you will. Sexual innuendos constantly flooding my mind as if the New Orlean's levies were the force attempting to hold my inappropriate thoughts back. (But of course, inevitably failing.) I'm not sure what it is, but I can't ever escape the thoughts of random scenarios or sexual thought provoking curiosity. Maybe it's the artist in me, and for all intensive purposes--I'm going to go ahead and say that IS why...

So I'm on Septa, I people watch, I listen to snippets of conversations and give different people my own little stories about their lives. Normal basic stuff right? Possibly. One other thing my chaotic mind does is directly picture any person, (mainly women), holding onto a pole, to that being the shape their hand makes when they hold and/or stroke a dick. Reread the sentence & return. Strange right?

I find it pretty funny. Next time you're on a bus or the el train, take a gander for yourself. It's quite entertaining. There's no other way to fully understand my immature antics unless you yourself have a healthy immature way of thinking. Mixed in with some seedy sexual deviance also. Gotta throw that in there. Or else, you'd never get to the cock-holding/pole grabbing concept, I myself have arrived at.

All I'm asking is for you to give it a looksy. That's all I'm saying. It's completely identical! I've even tested this theory on myself. Held a pole for safety, as to not bounce around all over the place, and thought, "Yep--that's what my hand looks like when I'm holding a tallywhacker." ::smirks::

Even for whatever stupid, grown-up reason, you can't relate to the pole/dick connection, just you thinking of this article while on Septa makes me the winner... and I guess a little pervy.

So there, a brief visit inside the mind of an overgrown child with an over active sexual appetite to match. But sometimes.. I'm just bored. Who can control where their mind goes??

Land O'Confusion

"If confusion is the first step to knowledge, I must be a genius"

--larry leissner

Top 10 Gobble Films

There's no other way to kick this off; I'm a holiday lover! The type of person that begins spreading "holiday cheer" early. And by "holiday cheer" I mean, holiday music. And by 'early' I mean, right after Thanksgiving. Yeah, I'm one of those. So in height of the wonderful and glorious Thanksgiving holiday about to take place in two weeks, I've decided to post my top ten favorite Thanksgiving themed-esque films. Some are classics that you're familiar with and others, maybe not. This is in no particular order, but enjoy nonetheless.

1. Charlie Brown Thanksgiving (1973)

CA-LASS-SIC!!

2. Home For The Holidays (1995)

Jodie Foster's directorial debut, Robert Downey Jr & Claire Danes--who couldn't love it?

3. Planes, Trains & Automobiles (1987)

Steve Martin & John Candy, need I say more?

4. Hannah & Her Sisters (1986)

Woody Allen fans would have to applaud this Thanksgiving favorite.

5. The House Of Yes (1997)

If you like Parker Posey, you'll love this Sundance Film Festival smash hit.

6. The Ice Storm (1997)

This cast is chock full of stars, before they were stars, from Tobey Maguire to Sigourney Weaver & Joan Allen.

7. Pieces Of April (2003)

Katie Holmes is good in this quirky indie drama, it really shows how comical one family disaster can be on Thanksgiving.

8. Thanksgiving Day (1990)

Who doesn't like a film about a dysfunctional family that involves Mary Tyler Moore?

9. National Lampoon's Thanksgiving Family Reunion (2003)

Sometimes the typical holiday vacation, is no vacation at all.

10. Dutch (1991)

Always been a favorite of mine. Gotta love Ed O'Neill!

Whatever your family tradition is, I hope it's lovely and amazing. So here's to the dreaded fruit cake, filled tummies and echoing laughter from everyone at the doll house.

gobble, gobble.

Found

These are some of my favorite lost, or found, photos from Found.com. Go there and explore, maybe even find some favorite pictures of your own.

Preface to my Novel

As the rain fell against her window, she opened her eyes slowly. Such a dreary morning to already be performing fellatio, but what else was there to do, besides her turn was cumming up next. Pun intended. She reached her hand up his soft warm body as he grunted with pleasure. She toyed with the thought of calling out of work and maybe just lay there all day fornicating and “being 16 again”. Irresponsible and naïve. Lord knows it had been forever and a day since she allowed herself that contentment.

‘She’ was Anne Driscoll. A 32 year old dancer. And the legitimate kind, not of the exotic sort. Ballroom, salsa, but mainly ballet. Although, to her everything was exotic & sexual. Paying the hot young cashier and slipping in a lingering glance, grinding against her male dance partner, Steve, even though she was certain of his homosexuality. It gave her fantasies to play with. Even now as she deep throats her occasional Tuesday-Thursday night mistake, better known as Damien, or as she refers to him with her friends; Jack Hammer. Mr. Hammer works as a valet in the neighboring building adjacent to her job. Their union began quickly and very spicy. He had been just the thrill she was looking for when she turned 30. He was 27 at the time and prime for picking. They never did much outside of the bedroom, but that’s exactly what Anne had wanted. Or was it?

Damien squeezed her hair in his hands and began to thrust eagerly, chasing the orgasm that was about to devour his entire body. His breathing got heavier as the intensity grew. Anne squeezed back in assurance to cum. And so he did. They had been off and on lovers for a little over two years, so it was completely acceptable for him to fill her mouth with his succulent semen. She enjoyed it thoroughly, almost as if it were her reward for working so hard for him. Anne also demonstrated acts of affection because she wanted it repaid exactly the way she gave it. Damien was very good at doing just so. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her hard. He turns her slowly on her back and kisses down toward her navel and beyond, she quietly thinks. Definitely calling out today.

Philly, wont you be thy Neighbor

Hey friends, fam, haters, lovers, guys and dolls. I've been cheating on you a bit with Philly Neighbor. See what I've been ranting about and check out other rants from the infamous gents & lady(ies). All Philly, all the time. I mean, afterall, what else is there?!

Inspire This!

What great things would you attempt if you knew you could not fail.--Robert H. Schuller

We must become the change we want to see.--Mahatma Gandhi

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.--Ralph W. Emerson

And in the end it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years.--Abraham Lincoln

remember people:

Intergalactic Sense Of Heaviness

Again you go.

Both faced outwards.

Not looking to stay, nor staying to know.

The timetable has passed.

Our journey's don't cross.

We held on to the laughs in

addition to the loss.

The time was real and refreshingly true.

Six years still gone & my heart is still

infected with you.

The Past Lies Under The Dust

nostalgia: nos.tal.gia (no.stah.juh) n. 1. a bittersweet longing for things, persons, or situations of the past.

Before she knew it, she was right back there again. Awaiting a response. Some form of flattery or half full nostalgia. Although she tried to trick her mind into reassuring itself, it was nothing more than a breezy recurrence, she knew better. She knew that her thoughts would dance around the wrong side of the tracks. Inhaling the memories that she once considered regrets. Exhaling charming little, indifferent remembrances.

Questions, inevitably, have made their way to the surface, as she climbs into bed and faces the ceiling. Arms above her head, she reflects with a smile. Wondering how the years have changed herself and the person in question. Wondering how it may not have changed them at all. Not lost, just wondering..

Did they miss the same thing? Was there still a blanket of comfort that no one else has filled since their union? With a toss of her pillow she escapes her intrusive mind. Logic has presented itself useful with it's auto-shut off valve. Ut-oh there it goes again. Apprehensively submerging back into the past, she closes her eyes and thinks once again. And maybe it'll never change. Maybe that's just the one person she'll always find herself pondering over. Maybe she can break away from the thoughts before the morning comes. Or maybe, he'll just haunt her forever.

Playing with ghosts intrigued her, afterall.

Whiskey Love

inside a whiskey bottle
i wallow.
waking up in cold sweats
feeling hollow.
another drink until
tomorrow.
sometimes this truth is
hard to swallow,
unlike the whiskey
that drowns my sorrow.
in the future-there lies
a past.
things i've done come
to haunt me, Alas.
seeing horrible visions.
my life
aghast.
from this bottle.
i'll drink my last.
--michael l. lewis

Strangely Fine

Ahem. I've returned.

Seeing as how I've been rather M.I.A. throughout the entire summer of '11. Allow me to explain my absence;

A mixture of the computers I use being douches, me being a lazy asshole and filling my time with nothing but smoking & sitting around. Which technically goes hand in hand with me being a lazy asshole. But whatever-the-case, in the words of Eminem, yes I'm quoting Eminem, "I'm back and I am razor sharp Baby! With a capital "B" and an exclamation mark maybe."

***************************************************************************************

My summer has been interesting to say the least. Definitely a coming of age, foreal. When I have more liberty to discuss exactly what I mean, I shall. But until then, know this--I'm feeling strangely fine.

Trouble Shooting

There are times in life when you wonder what's going on. There are times in life when you wonder how you'll get by. And then there are times like now--when I'm wondering what. the. FUCK. is up with this blog. Fuck you.

Chance Taken

With the air getting breezier and warmer, and the times changing faster than you can say, "What the fuck?", I find myself in an uproar of chaotic emotion. I find myself belly button deep in a nameless ocean and I've got not a canoe or a paddle.

When foreign feelings creep up and make you act impulsively, like a free spirited 10 year old, you don't usually question the outcome. Cause that wouldn't be being free. Taking chances is tricky for sure. How will you ever know what something's worth if you don't dig a little. Live a little. Not think so much. Will I live to regret this chapter? And will it be worth it? I guess if it's worth it, you can't really regret, huh?

Time will tell I suppose. I've got arms.. and at this rate, I can swim for days.

Well Whaddaya Know

Crazier things have happened.

Why Can't I?

No matter what's going on in your life, I am a personal believer that you can make room for that emotion that converts your insides into acrobatic dancers. That emotion that turns you into pudding after sitting inside of a car, in the state of Georgia, in the middle of July.


That emotion that makes colors more vibrant and you smile at the sight of a word beginning with the first letter of their name. That emotion that wraps your entire body around the finger of some unsuspecting victim. Hah, chances are you're the victim. I usually am.
The emotion... that emotion.... you knnooow what I mean.

Why can't I throw myself into it? Because it isn't "safe", because "what if you get hurt", because "no one you knew ended up happy with someone else", because "it's bad timing", because "he's/she's a different race or religion", because "my parents don't approve"?? How about BECAUSE it's fucking worth it asses! You don't get something amazing and fully fulfilling without getting a little lost and taking chances. You don't get full arousal on sight, mental stimulation, complete comfort and infinite intrigue without taking a leap or taking a few wrong turns.
And, I mean, if you do/did find it easily, then I applaud you with sincere gratitude. It's special and rare. Kick it 'til your feet fall off.

April You Strike Again

Maybe I just have to think of it as, there's a growing arsenal of people on "the other side" looking out for me. Maybe..

The Academy Is.. will always remind me of you.

RIP Kimberly Madden

01-23-86 -- 04-15-11

Bitterness Tastes Bitter

So what is it? Does pride drive people or does fear?? What drives you? What makes you want to turn and run or quiver, or flinch?? Is it lonliness? Love? Commitment? Whatever-the-case, I bet it isn't a big enough reason to duck and run. So what you've been hurt or burned! So what someone in the past (it's the fucking past) screwed you over. Someone new shouldn't have to pay because YOU lost your ability to trust or whatever your stupid situation is. Get the fuck over it. Hurdle that little time piece you consider a memory and move on. I mean, shit! Don't you people recognize what's real anymore?! Or am I the only one... Ugh. Lennon was soo right.

"I Ran Up The 'Down' Escalators For You"

When my lips part for yours, and our eyes begin to shut. That's the moment I've been waiting for since the last time our mouths separated. Many moons and suns have rose and fallen since our eyes allowed themselves to lock and hold in a stare. A game of chicken between us two. Who will be victorious this time?

The steady gaze is intoxicating. Who needs tequila when you're around? Let's face it, I'm found out and I know it. Reluctant lips can't lie when my eyes are spilling the truth with every shutter of my lashes.

Slow motion through the crowd, following you out. Scared of the future, scared of the past. Scared of the inevitable and how long it'll last. Neither of us knows what it means or where it'll lead. Maybe right back to the beginning.

But without compliance, what do we really know?

Nothing.

Pride is such a buzz kill when it comes to the matters of the heart. And so are you.

Where Art Thou?

À l'heure la plus sombre, vous avez tendance à voir la lumière. Peu importe comment ennuyeux la lumière est, le fait de vaciller vous donne une forme d'espoir. Les films de roman ne devraient pas être dans ma possession, mais hélas ils sont. La couture de moi plus serré au désir de passion qui a été absente pour entièrement trop longtemps. Où sont vous ?

My Random Playlist Under 26 Songs

In no particular order. Just a mix that I threw together for the sake of Wednesday. And maybe a few that got left out, that deserve a chance. ;)

1. "Walkin & Swingin" --- Andy Kirk & His 12 Clouds Of Joy

2. "Smile Upon Me" --- Passion Pit

3. "Limelight" --- Rush

4. "Dig Up Her Bones" --- Misfits

5. "Attitude" --- Misfits

6. "Either Way" --- The Generationals

7. "A Girl Like You" --- Edwyn Collins

8. "Jenny" --- Stellastar**

9. "Wet Rainbow" --- Tipsy

10. "Crazy" --- Aerosmith

11. "Clavical" --- Alkaline Trio

12. "You've Got So Far To Go" --- Alkaline Trio

13. "Wild & Young" --- American Bang

14. "She Dominates" --- Blitzkid

15. "Teenage Necrophilian Love" --- Blitzkid

16. "This Modern Love" --- Bloc Party

17. "Stir It Up" --- Bob Marley

18. "Let Me Get What I Want" --- John Lennon

19. "There Is A Light" --- The Smiths

20. "Shake Me Down" --- Cage The Elephant

21. "Take Me Out" --- Atomic Tom

22. "Down, Set, Go" --- Underoath

23. "Heart Skipped A Beat" --- The xx

24. "Beat Your Heart Out" --- The Distillers

25. "Overkill" --- Collin Hay

The Almost in Under 10:

1. "For The Movies" --- Buckcherry

2. "Innocent" --- Fuel

3. "Hey Beautiful" --- The Solids

4. "Hang On Little Tomato" --- Pink Martini

5. "I'll Believe Anything" --- Wolf Parade

6. "Lua" --- Bright Eyes

7. "Elvis Fucking Christ" --- The Cramps

8. "Can't Hardly Wait" --- The Replacements

9. "Party Pit" --- The Hold Steady

10. "Jackass" --- Beck

Ut Oh

what the hell does it all mean?

Current Existance

Being a freshly new 26 year old I feel that nothing has changed drastically. Speaking of which:

Wah wah wah wah

Clock stopped ticking, times run out

Whatever you're thinking, withhold or shout.

What the clock can't say, and time can't tell

the price we'll pay versus the price to sell.

Say what you will but it's all for the wicked

a price too wild and unfair for the ticket.

Enjoying The Pain Of A Memory

There are these moments in life that you look back on, and they never disappoint you by not making you smile. In that nostalgia you wish you could be there again. Smack dab in the middle of your memory. You wish you could feel it again. Be it again. You wish you hadn't lost whatever moment made your heart fly. You're also sad because it's gone. But it isn't lost. Just the simple fact that, that moment lives inside of you somewhere is proof enough that it isn't gone or lost.

Pictures make one of the best memories. It captures everything. The emotion, the surroundings, the smiles, tears or laughter. Some say the best sense of memory is smell. The amygdala is the olfactory bulb, (part of the brain), that connects scent to memory and also processes emotion. So smelling something can trigger a part of the brain that will transport you right back to that place and time in 2003. In my case, the smell of cucumber & melon teleports me to Barcelona, Spain, March of '06. Good year. Like a good wine. Quite funny because I buy my wine based on their years. :)

Either way.

I was just sitting here looking at the blank screen wondering what I should write about. As my mind did its own thing, I found myself back in the past. Reflecting.. and smiling. Coincedentally enough The Cure's "Pictures Of You" blared through my speakers and clicking away at the keys I did.

Random. Jibberish rubbish from yours truly.

Party Like It's MY Birthday

yep

Kissing Raindrops

Regardless of how young the love, it's still very captivating. All of us single, and older, folks either watch in nostalgia or envy. But still... you can't deny the passion. The raging hormones and eager mouths. The affections that haven't been bruised. No one's all messed up in the head yet and the heart is scratch-free, like a brand new blank canvas. Just waiting for the paint.


Kissing in the rain is just so refreshing, yet steamy. Something about the tiny little cold wet drops that seem to sizzle as they bounce off your skin. The sound of trickling water flooding the ground around you and it being symbolic for a flooding of another sort. In a womans case anyway. It's definitely a seductive moment if experienced with the right person. And hell! Even a bad kiss in the rain could be hot, only for the added fact that the rain is included. A dry bad kiss, is simply just awkward.

Impulsive, spontaneous, 'I have to have you now' kind of kissing. Ohhh it's the most intense of them all. Especially if it's recipricated and especially if it's in the rain. Oh yum.

As cheesy and cliche' as it stands, Janet Jackson's "Anytime Anyplace" comes to my mind a lot when it's raining. I suppose because I was 9 when the song came out and the video was so erotic and intriguing it's premanently burned into my mind. It was raining in the video. At the very end, go figure. It still invades my mind when it rains. Me likey. *see blog post below*

In the mean time I will fill my brain with anticipation for when it's my turn to kiss in the rain. Hopefully sooner than later, but in the same mind, the longer the wait the better the experience.* I hope.

I can see it already. He'll be witty, of course, and he'll say something like, "I want to kiss you in the rain on the rainiest day of the year." Yeah. Yeah, that would be nice. I'm looking forward to that moment and I cannot wait!!

*certain cases do not apply.

Every Time It Rains

Bled White

Death; The final end of biological functions that sustain a living organism.

We've all been rocked with devastating news of the death of someone. Be it a family member, an asscociate, an old friend, or in some tragic cases, a very close friend.

Attempting to understand death comes hard for most people. Wrecking their brains for answers and coming up short every single time. And 'God has his reasons' isn't one of them. It's a part of the long list of unanswered questions that no one will ever get to the bottom of. At least no one that can live to tell it. So there is no certainty to any of this. We're all born alone, we all die alone. Everything in between is either all random acts of chaos or precisely planned out steps that not even we know or recognize. No one (or very, very few) remembers being born. So why is it so hard for us as humans to accept that it may be possible that we won't even remember death? I know why. It comes back to those silly unanswered questions.

See we already know how the baby gets in the belly and what happens to the baby after it's born. We know this to be true and factual. The mystery of after death is the scary part. No one knows the answers to that and therefore, people fear it. Rightfully so.

If I grew up with heaven & hell being a real place and the "fear of God" being instilled into my psyche, I'd too fear death like most people. But I don't see it through the same tinted glasses as most of the world. My main fear is of simply being forgotten. I mean, let's face it--unless you've made your mark in pop culture, invented something beneficial or become some form of President, you and everyone you know will in fact be forgotten eventually. Nothing to do about that but rock on and live your life the truest and happiest you can.

"We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey."-Kenji Miyazawa

R.I.P. ny, payje & curits. at least you're all together.

Yardbird Parker

One thing I can say about the majority of my generation is that not many of us are aware that there was great music before 1975. I don't know many kids like me that extend their ear to jazz. They think it's just loud, random noise that you can't follow. Charlie Parker is one of my favorite master jazz musicians and also considered an influencial innovator of jazz in the 20th century.

"They teach you there's a boundary line to music, but man, there's no boundary line to art."

Jazz is just something that makes you feel good. It's upbeat and very in the moment. It makes you wanna tap your toes and fingers. Get up and move your body. Almost like letting the music take you, eat you up and never digest you.

Even if it's a sad or slow song. It'll have the effect of making you feel very introspective and self-reflective. Me, personally, I think it to be one of the rawest forms of music. And you don't need words to comprehend that. It is whatever you want it to be. That's the other great thing!

People can take lyrics out of songs and the song could be about a bicycle, but the person applies the lyrics to their current situation. Be it love or lost, or whatever. With jazz, there aren't words to make up an emotion. There's nothing BUT emotion. You create the sadness or the happiness once it hits your ears. Charlie Parker said it best himself;

"Music is your own experience, your own thoughts, your own wisdom."

When I hear Charlie Parker's "Embraceable You", it makes me want to sit outside on a stoop and enjoy a nice glass of Brandy on ice. (And I don't usually drink Brandy which makes the idea even funnier.) The song just makes you feel like that's what you should be doing. Or maybe strolling through a park hand in hand with someone that makes your insides shake at their touch. Kissing in the sun or tracing all of their curves with your fingers. It's entitled "Embraceable You" afterall.Then you have other songs by Charlie Parker like "Street Beat" that makes you wanna violently throw everything off of a table onto the floor, then dance atop it in a mad happiness. Take a perfect stranger by the hand and on contact the energy feeds through the tips of your fingers into their skin. Soaking up the enticement, the excitement, the life.

Though Charlie Parker's life was short lived, he made memorable jazz. In the beginning before it was jazz. Before it was anything. Before it was hip and way before it was world known and praised. He followed his own beat. He made music that made people feel good--it made him feel good. And that's precisely what music is suppose to do. He got the name Bird/Yardbird because they say he lived his life free as a bird.

I can't see any other way to live it either.

Indifferent Lull

As the mid-week blues blows in for it's weekly reminder that life's plan isn't playing out on the timely schedule I thought it would, I find myself becoming more and more impatient. Desperately wanting the distant future to be the near future. Not really knowing where to start or how to end the cancers of my life. The people, the parties, the bullshit. I can't say my situation is necessarily plight, but more like a wind that's picking up and showing me I'm dedicated to kicking things into high gear. My work outs, my writing... My painting could use a little more inspiration but I'm sure once March rushes in with a warm breeze, the colors will flood the canvas and all will be well.

The balance of responsibilty and happiness. Maybe they CAN co-exist afterall. The Spring looks promising and my outlook, though at an indifferent lull, is pregnant with idea of elation.

Different Shades of 'Oh!'

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Games With Greenery

The awesome, most kickass past time for many of us as kids was Nintendo and anyone who knows Nintendo, knows Super Mario Brothers. The addicting, relentless obsession. The rush of beating each world and saving Princess Peach. The glory of defeating Bowser!

Well I'd like to admit I've started this addiction once again. The rebirth of sore thumbs that get so tender, texting on my Crackberry is almost painful. But I do it for the win. The excitement of escaping and being a hero all at the same time. Adding a little *enhancement to this activity is even better. Hours of stoned video gaming will ensue. Talk about your compulsive habits. I recently invested in a gaming system as a way to keep myself in the house and out of **trouble. An investment I think is working out pretty good. I'm seein a few video games exclusively and it's going well. It's funny how in this case, responsibilty comes in disguise as childhood fun.

*Weed. I mean weed. It totally makes every single thing in the world better. **Spending excessive money for no apparent reason.