Poems about Steve 2

I'll never forget what Rosario Dawson told me.

It was almost lunchtime on a Saturday -

I was watching a movie preview - when I heard her say

"I never regret."

But Steve, who was folding blankets and sheets and

waking up, says he regrets.

I know I regret -

last night I told Steve that he could have

the

last

taco.

Poems about Steve: 1

I was exhausted
and laid flat across the bed
the same way Steve spreads ketchup across
a Waffle House patty melt -
although not as meticulously.

Sketch of a poem.

Homecoming Week

Friday night.
The floats and pickup trucks painted red and black are getting in order on Hancock.
The beer trucks are lined up at the light -
homecoming week: you can't drive through downtown
because of the parade.

Eligible women are lined up at my
door and my assistant tells me:
The food delivery man is here.
He's too afraid to back down the driveway.
Take care of it please, I ask her.
I'm going to sit in my room with the windows open for 2 more minutes:
eyes closed, listening to the marching band up the hill.

Thursday night.
T-Pain's bass is pumping through the kitchen when
what's-her-name calls down from upstairs and tells me to
turn the TV down. It ain't me girl, it's Legion Field.
It's the Day of Soul and amps are turned up to 11.

Besides - she's doing her hair and getting ready to go out.
What do you need silence for?

I'm getting impatient - let's get out of here.
Let's go.
Out.
It's Homecoming Week and all I want to do is leave.

Sketch of an email: the date

DRAFT #1
Sunday morning 8:39 AM

just wanted to say hey and that i had a good time last night. i also thought it was awesome that you didn't seem to mind my friends - they can be a bit much sometimes.
give me a ring if you want to hang out sometime this week.
-David

DRAFT #2
Sunday afternoon 3:33 PM

Hey girl!
I just wanted to say hello and that I had a great time last night. You handled my friends well, I thought. Some people don't respond to those blunt, revealing rape discussions as well as you did last night. Sorry about that.
XOXO
Dave

DRAFT #3
Sunday evening 8:22 PM

Hey. Last night was cool. I guess.
Listen - hope you weren't offended by my friends. But honestly they're my friends... I'm not going to just drop them because you're offended by certain subjects that they LOVE talking about OK?
Stop trying to change me.
-Dave

PS: call me if you want to hang out this week.

Sketch of a joke: rising prices

I'm going to start blaming everything on gas prices.

"Kesler doesn't seem to be as racist lately...
...what with the gas prices these days."

"My leg is killing me...
...what with the gas prices these days."

"I saw a prostitute stumbling down the street this morning
...what with the gas prices these days."

Sketch of a sketch: the old man

There's an old man in this sketch. He's wealthy.
On his estate there's a minority - the old man isn't sure what kind of minority he is though. He cuts the grass and takes the trash out.
This landscaping minority has been working on the estate for 40 years and the old man still doesn't know his name.
As a recurring joke, the old man constantly fumbles with his employee's name and racial identity.
"Go tell Lamar to pull the car up front."
"Who sir?"
"Whatever his name is - the Indian man that cuts the grass."
"You mean Kenny sir. And he's from Central America."
"Whatever - I barely know him."
"He's given you a Christmas present for the last 14 years sir."
"I'm not so sure about that."
"He named his first born son after you sir."
"Never-the-less."

Glenn Davis is a fancy, fancy boy.

Glenn Davis plays for the Boston Celtics.
They won the NBA Championship a few weeks ago.
What could be more badass than the way Glenn Davis chooses to celebrate with the trophy?

A portion of the latest screenplay

INTERIOR. NIGHT.
A living room. A television sits muted, with a game show playing.There are two couches in the room. One person sits on each.
A woman, SANGRIA, is hemming a green pantsuit.
CHAZ is sitting opposite her and exfoliating his heels.In front of him on the floor is a pile of dead skin.

SANGRIA:
Chaz, I think I’m suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.

CHAZ:
What’s that Sangria?

SANGRIA:
It’s like when something bad happens and then after it happens you’re still all jumpy and s**t.

CHAZ:
What happened to give you post-traumatic stress disorder Sangria?

SANGRIA:
Well – the other day I was eating at one of those combo fast food places… you know what I’m talking about? Like, they have those Taco Bell/Pizza Hut combo places…

CHAZ:
I’m familiar with the concept. Two restaurants owned by the same conglomerate share a workspace.

SANGRIA:
Well, I was eating at this combo Hardee’s/Long John Silver’s places and a rat crawled out of my Grilled Rib Meat Sandwich.

CHAZ:
NO!

SANGRIA:
Yes! This really happened – right in front of my face.

CHAZ:
What’d you do? I mean damn girl I don’t know what I would do if that happened to me…

SANGRIA:
Wasn’t nothing I could do. I mean, it was gross when it happened but I just tried not to think about it and finished my sandwich.

CHAZ:
Wait – you finished it?

SANGRIA:
Hell yeah! Thing was $15! I’m damn sure gonna finish it if I pay that much for a sandwich.

CHAZ:
Damn girl… you wrong.

SANGRIA:
What??

CHAZ:
I mean, how are you gonna eat something that had a rat sleeping on it two seconds before you put it in your mouth? That’s nasty!!

SANGRIA:
YOU NASTY!!

CHAZ:
Me?!? You’re one who ate a rat’s sleeping bag!! Calling me nasty…

SANGRIA:
That’s it!!

CHAZ:
That’s what???

SANGRIA:
That’s IT motherf**ker. I’m done. Take your stankin’ ass pant-suit and get the hell out!

CHAZ:
But you’re not done hemming it!

SANGRIA:Shoulda thought about that before you started making fun of my eating habits be-atch.

CHAZ:
That’s cold.

SANGRIA:
Well I’m cold.
Oh – and Chaz … you look like a womens basketball coach in that pant-suit. Go to Men’s Warehouse or something.

Policing the streets

I'm in the market for a car these days. I've been doing the CraigsList search, which is full of scams and people who "can't read or write."
Then, there's the overly paranoid guys.
I got this faaaantastic email back from someone today about a Honda Accord:

"yes. i only take cash and deal with people locally. if you email with "i can pay by bank check" I am reporting you to craigslist and my uncle who works in the FBI"

Sex in the City=Beer in the Belly

From one of the great minds of our generation comes ...













Quoth John Nijhawan:

"I suggest you follow my lead and turn this idea into a national movement.

I think it's wise to organize a massive "dude's night out" full of debauchery to coincide with the release of Sex in the City. Every woman and her sister is going to be at that nonsense & therefore all men are off the leash...

If you are accounted for, I think it wise to be stone cold sober when she disembarks for the movie & in the 3 hours she's gone get the drunkest she'll ever see you & COMPLETELY kill her high, thus bringing her back to earth w/ a healthy dose of reality + reminder of who's really boss.

It comes out next Friday, May 30th."

Mercy is For Girl-Babies

I got published!! I know... I'm so excited. The following excerpt is reprinted from AthensGa.Craigslist.Org

athensga>personals>missed connections

Angry hottie at Piggly Wiggly-(Athens, GA)
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Reply to: pers-09823487@craigslist.org
Date: 2008-05-24, 1:39AM EDT

The tips of your hair was magenta. Your jeans were skin tight and low... too low for a thick-legged woman like you.
I was walking out of the Piggly Wiggly on North Avenue. Almost to the car, I turned when I heard you scream. A man was walking with you, holding a bag of potato chips.
YOU SO STUPID!! you screamed as you swung at him.
He dodged and slid to his right, your fingernails coming thiiiiis close to scratching his face.
WE GOT CHIPS!!!
He shuffled for a few steps and regained his composure. The look on your face was as angry as I've ever seen a face.
Will you make me the happiest man in the world... and marry me today?

Location: North Avenue
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests


PostingID: 693012847
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"GV: Everytime I laugh, I cry" Or, The Moneyfolder

We're going to call him "Burrido."

Ol' Burrido went through an entire roll of toilet paper today. It seems that something is wrong with his belly. My guess is the problem is related to the gallon of whiskey he poured in there on Friday and Saturday night.
Yep, we sure Did It Up this weekend. Same ol' stuff - just a couple of veterans putting on the old jerseys one more time.

Here's a book shelf of organic matter - custom made for you!

I'm printing up shirts that say:
I'm so done long-boarding it's not even funny.

and bumper stickers that say:
My other car is gay.

!

T

I have a friend who wears
normal clothes except that
everyday, underneath those
normal clothes he wears
a different pair of
Thundercats pajamas.

v

d

Phrases You Never Hear While Waiting For the Elevator in the Parking Deck:

- I'm just dead set on finishing this O Magazine crossword puzzle!

- I really shouldn't have had that third bottle of margarita mix.

- Any you guys seen a skinhead walk by with a cut on his face? No? Cool.

Psychic Evolution

Funny Man!

Funny Man!
Mr. Funny Man!
You're so funny with ...

your uh,

funny jokes!!

FUNNY MAN:

When did we stop wearing costumes hunh?

You know what I mean people.
I mean - if you're a six-year old boy you are apparentley allowed attend a public event wearing a full length Wolverine X-Men III costume without anyone batting an eye.
Dressed up.
Completely - head to toe. Totally un-related to whatever event they're participating in.

You're standing in the bathroom line at the Human Right's Festival next thing you know a you get cut in line by a 10-year Shrek donkey.
You're sipping on sweet tea at your aunt's housekeeper's funeral and you see a small raptor with Ninja Turtle roller-skate tennis shoes eating four chocolate chip cookies at once.
It's commonplace!
Parents even keep track of them by their superhero name:
Kevin! Come back towards the house! You too Spiderman.

So when's the cut off people? Hunh?
That's what I want to know.
When are we no longer allowed to wear random costumes? Halloween excluded of course - but like, on a Wednesday in July?
16 years old?
8 years old?
HELP ABBY!!

Day Man: Fighter of the Night Man

I know two things about her:
She was born in Kansas and
she's afraid of people who wear
too much Shea Butter Lotion.

---

My neighbor left me a note in Sanscrit.
I had it translated by a dude at the library and
he told me it said:
"We've got extra pie if you want any..."

---

When I was walking to work this morning I passed a crack-head who I see fairly often.

He more than likely is not an actual crack addict - he probably suffers from a serious mental illness (the broad stroke calls all of these people CrackHeads and everyone knows what they mean when they say it).
Anyway - he was bopping along and yelling out angry phrases to himself as he walked. When he passed me I could make out a little of what he was saying.
Here's the gorgeous prose I heard come out of his mouth:
"THAT'S WHY I DON'T BE F*CKIN' AROUND WITH BLACK WOMEN NO MORE!!"

Ahhh... those less fortunate than us. So funny.