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RIVERING
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While I was moving out of Ian's some hemorrhoid-gobbling fuckpole stole both my brand new Marmot sleeping bag and my new Arc'teryx jacket. Right off my porch while I was ten feet away. I don't know how the motherfucker did it, but If I see the motherfucker I'm going to cut out his heart and pawn it down the street for a dime piece After I run his ass over with my car, strip him naked, flay off his skin with a cheese plane, shove his testicles into vinegar and pickle them. take them on tour with a carnival , end up selling them to a toothless chinese herbalist for baboon birth control & keep his head in the freezer so I can get necroperverts to skullfuck him for a nickel a pop. |
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I'm realizing that since I decided to bare my soul and write personal stuff in here that I've totally neglected using LJ like I originally intended, which is detail cool things and trip report type-stuff.
I went to new york at last month and didn't write any of my impressions down, so here's what stayed with me after a month to mull it over:
This is the first time I've thought to myself "I could live here" when thinking about New York. The lower east side has such a small-town-in-a-big-city vibe, a real neighborhood feel. It's like a different place. A kind of cozy place, a respite from the insanity but close enough to it to be exciting. I love Manhattan. The last time I went I stayed mainly in Brooklyn which is nice but lacks the charm and compactness of Manhattan.
Every part of the city is close to every other part with a million trains zooming around. As everyone who lives in CA says, we need something like that done for public transportation here. The east bay especially, not even having anything like the Muni.
Shimmering in the hot late-summer sun was the first New York I'd experienced. Short skirts and clinginess replaced by scarves and rain boots still make the women in New York about ten-times more put-together than the west coast. In comparison West coast women don't give a shi-ott about how they look and the men here dress like bums, me included :)
I took a long walk through central park with my high school sweetheart, Tymaree. She reminded me how far I'd matured and grown in the relationships I've had since we were together twelve years ago. I treated her like shit and like the punk kid that I was then. I didn't know how to treat a woman properly. I was so selfish and rude it made me wince more than a few times to hear her talk about the ig'nant shit I pulled on her. Unfortunately she's been feeling the repercussions of that for years and hasn't been able to have the great partners I've had. It's taken a ton of growing on my part to end the selfishness, while she's seemingly been stuck in the pattern of dating men who've been bad for her. I'm truly grateful to have had the chance to apologize. I still care very much for her and hope she finds someone worthy of her loveliness.
Jodi and Matt are two of my favorite people in the world and their engagement is perfect, 'nuff said.
Somehow I made it back to Robin twice, after last going there randomly in 2003, David, Alex's roomate works there but I didn't even know him then. Some of my fondest memories of the last itme in Neew York were doing shared-drawings in that strangely appointed restaurant/bar. I love that place. I'll be sure to go there every time I'm in the city.
more lates I suppose...
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When I wake up I've been giving myself a daily boost. In the morning when I get I say something like "Today is going to be a busy day. I'm going to kick butt" then give myself words to use throughout the day. It 's been working. Today my words are Quickly and quietly, smoothly and efficiently. I'm going to knock this motherfucker out' the park. word. |
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A few years ago a friend of mine introduced me to the thanksgiving thankful game. Everyone goes around the table giving thanks for what the year has bestowed on them. This year I'm doing it a bit early: I am so happy that I have so many wonderful friends. The outpouring of love I've gotten in the past couple of months has been huge. The giving nature of my pals shone through the darkness like a beacon of hope overwhelming me. I want to pledge that I'll do what I can to keep the cycle of love in motion. I've been working too much lately, But on a Friday afternoon it feels good to take some time and pass out the milk and cookies. After the bad times I told you all how much I loved you. Those reading this and those who can't even read, (That's you, little K-dub) Each and everyone of you has added a glowing ember to the campfire of my life, once almost extinguished, now once again blazing. It's raining today. The rain will both wash away and replenish us. Let us all remember to enjoy the raindrops, the breath of life. I look forward to the day soon when I can feel my pack on my back and be out in some woods with my buddies. I look forward to my upcoming trip to NYC to see the magical partnership of Jodi and Matty G in action. (as well as see some of my oldest and dearest friends.) I look forward to the work I'll do in the next few weeks that will help me keep focussed on my potential instead of my past. I guess I have a lot to be thankful for. |
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Autumn is a time of ending, But in every ending there is a new beginning. Here in coastal Northern California there are different seasons than the ones typical of what we think of as Spring, Summer, Winter and most especially; Fall. Fall here is a time for starts. The grass greens, the rains come, it grows cold, yes, but differently than where there are four seasons. So many things weather over the winter that Autumn is not a time of hibernation but a time of leanness. A time to seek out what is going to carry through and yes, a time for beginnings. Everything is a new beginning for me right now. A tentative first step, but a step that leads to something like a charge. I'm rushing forward with growing confidence and really becoming the person I've wanted to be for so long. All the barriers I told myself were impossible to overcome have yielded to my renewed energy and fallen. Everything I lost this Summer has in some magical way been restored. Renewed and changed I am ready for the rains. +++ The past is the owner's manual of my life. My past tells me I can take quite a punishing beating, that I can hurt myself and love myself and what it's like to love and be dumped, to fail. But I've learned that I can't ever be truly broken down for long. I've given up, but I'm still going. I've let go.
I'm letting go of the past. letting go of the thoughts. Letting go of the emotions I was so desperately attached to. I'm a survivor. Not only am I going to win. I'm going to fucking spike it! Determination has returned and I'm never letting go. I'm never taking the fall again. I'm growing through any winter you can throw at me. |
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After working hanging the sheetrock on the ceiling of the mustard shack for a half day yesterday I went to a thing at Barbara and Katie's. I've been trying to keep myself in check and not dissolve into a bucket of shit at the drop of a hat, but doing the party thing is atrocious. Everything seemed normal until I was on the way home. I drove up San Pablo and past the house because the sense of dread at being home was back. When I finally got home I opened up the pain and had a veritable festival of anguish. YAY! A festival! Break out the cognac and mount the fucking maypole!!! I opened up the file on my hard drive that has my favorite picture of Amber. I don't know why I do it; read her Blog about Paris where she triumphantly swigs champagne and gobbles fabulous food; Sit stupified in front of her picture in an admixture of growing anger and dare I say it, hatred; think about her while I'm trying to have a conversation about something unrelated; fixate on her when I'm trying to hang sheetrock at Scott and Curly's. I don't know why I'm doing this. Does it make it harder? Is it some need I have to get out the pain and make it real so I can deal see it for what it is? I don't know if catharsis even exists. I just get more and more upset. I know I still haven't written here about my hospital stay or even finished my trip report with bang lime, but I don't feel like it yet. the blog has to wait until I can stop my helpless need to tell everyone about my daily suffering over something I should be able to deal with but can't. |
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Waking up from a daze is harder than just waking up. I'd been semi-conscious for who knows how long. Walking talking and somehow living but in some dull, shunted state, far from reality. I was in darkness. The only thing I can compare to it is when you shoot a photograph outdoors in bright sunlight and the picture comes out too dark. The iris of my life was closed too tightly to let in any light. Despite the fact that I have a horrible, crippling disease called Bipolar Disorder. I haven't been able to find a remedy for my depression. I've been walking around in that dazed state for years; unable to come out of it, unable to make sense of my life. What I should have realized was that I have more than almost anyone could ask for. I have friends, all over the world, who love me and aren't embarrassed by me, who care about me even when I'm in the throes of my illness. I don't know how I got to this fortunate place, but luckily enough, here I am. |
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It's sometimes amazing how something that is so black it seems devoid of anything worthwhile can lead me to see something I've never seen before. Not a trip report, except in the most gallows-humor, black-comedy sense, this chain of events that has ended with an outpouring of love and friendship is more of an actual journal entry. You know, the kind I swore up and down I'd never post to a public forum. well here it is. Last week I tried to kill myself. I'd never really tried so intently to end my own life, I'd had a few instances where I was suicidally depressed, and got close to that point, once even ripping open my forearm with a piece of broken lightbulb. But I'd never actually done it with seriousness. This time was different. It wasn't like a fateful decision was made and I carefully planned it out. I merely filled a couple prescriptions that I'd been sitting on and came home with more pills than I anticipated. A bottle of Ativan combined with a bottle of Bourbon came together without any active scheming on my part. I went to trader Joe's and I went to Walgreens. I've always had a thing for a good Bourbon, neat or over ice, Or more specifically my drink, which is Bourbon with an ice water back. That way I can add some ice a bit at a time and crunch down on the melting, numbing ice as I drink. So I poured myself one. I wasn't thinking about anything like killing myself. I was sick over how shitty my situation had become. No Job, not even any prospects; failing my thesis class; my car getting totalled with no replacement in sight; losing my girlfriend, and her being at that moment probably off fucking some asshole on the Playa at burning man (she told me that's why she didn't want me camping with her theme camp like we'd planned for the past year); Oh yeah, not going to burning man was hitting me too. Gosh I don't think I can even fit the whole list into one sentence. what else? Fuck. I didn't have a my home anymore, or my garden, the one I'd spent all spring trying to create. I didn't even have the love of the cat that Amber and I had pretty much shared since he was a tiny little furball of a kitten. What I did have was that bottle of Ativan and the Bottle of Whiskey. Killing myself became possible. All I could see was the emptiness. The need to numb the intensity of the pain any way I could. I could have taken an Ativan, or drank one, two or even five whiskeys. But what I wanted--No, What I craved--was the complete darkness of death. It sounded then like something I could do. Which scared me. I got freaked out, so I called the suicide hotline number that my therapist had given me. 1-800-309-2131 I dialed and was connected then went into the kitchen and got myself the bottle of bourbon tucking it in the back of my shorts to avoid Lo and Ian on the couch in the living room. and then I started taking took ativan. I talked, to let the poor woman on the other end try to convince me not to kill myself—while I killed myself. She gave me all the normal reasons not to do it. Any one of which would have given me pause had I not already started to eat pills and drink. So she talked and after each argument failed to gain headway. I'd lick my finger, dip it into the pile of little pills, picking up five or ten stuck to my digit, then scrape my finger against my lower front teeth. filling my mouth with the acrid taste of pills. I'd wash that down with a good pull off the bottle. A good long pull, like I was drinking lemonade on a hot day. My head started to spin. I told the operator as much then hung up and leaned back. Then I forget. I have a vague notion that Matthew Baker called me. something about the police. It didn't seem to involve me. He wanted my new address. I gave it to him. The next thing I remember was that I was being handcuffed. then forced to drink what tasted like Jaegermeister but was actually activated charcoal. the next thing I remember is more wispy and unglued moments of the next day or so. Scott was there. I was hospitalized. Nothing seemed real. It was Saturday. Then Sunday. It had never been Friday. |
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The northern leg was even better that the southern. We bombed in the heat of a central valley summer, up to an empty lake shasta, put our feet on the cool grass of a thousand rest stop lawns. soon we were wrapped in the warm night of Eugene. I found another Timbers motel. Very similar to the one in Ashland. Josh adamant about parking the rig right in front of the door to our room. we practically backed the van into the windows. Crash. No, we crashed. did a long leg into Seattle. The I5 was down to one lane so we opted to hit a "shortcut" we were sure that we were going the wrong way, but it paid off. Instead of the traffic of a hideous interstate we saw a thousand Arby's. Seattle. played the Chop Suey. Called Shakti but she was in Gray's harbor. for work. ( made plans for Thursday.) Met up with some of Saneta's family at dinner. Listened to Saneta's family discuss family politics and how crazy they all are. Made my family seem more normal. Everythis was dialed as far as my job at this point so the gear slid in and out like a well lubed fuck. Next morning we braved the 5 again. this time south. Back down to portland. we played the Chrystal ballroom. lowest attendance yet. Joash and Joules contemplate ending the tour early. cutting some dates. The tour hasn't gone too well as far as attendance at this point. San DIego was luke-warm. LA was a good size crowd, but BL opened for the worst band ever, who amazingly had a big draw. Crowds are fickle. The Oakland date went OFF, but SF was sparse. the local booker did almost no promotion and totally fucked up. the venue screwed her out of two grand for the show. thousand dollar bar guarantee? Then up to seattle and Portland. Both of which were weak. The only upside of portland was that I dodged out during soundcheck and picked up a few choice costumes for OODE. The next day we had off in seattle. Josh departed for his girl teresa's place. Joules and Saneta went to her aunt's birthday. I called up Shakti. She showed me what her life in Seattle was like. We ate some good sushi and then went up to her local bar and drank. Her pals are addicted to this game called Big Bucks. Or something like that. It's a video game about hunting, which is very fun after about six maker's rocks and a couple beer backs. Her bar was cheap and the game was a good ice breaker for me and her friends. Her new boy friend is a total dude's dude. He seems nice, but not quite Shakti material. We stumbled back to her house and she revealed that she had a huge crush on me forever. which might have led to something had she not had a boyfriend and had I not just been hanging out with him a half hour before. Weird. The next morning we picked up Joules, leaving Saneta at her family's. Just the boys for the Vancouver part of the trip. The day started on a sour note when the waiter forgot to put our breakfast order in. I could feel the bile of too much Seattle coffee building. You know the end of the breakfast club when judd nelson flips off the school. I was that move. Then we took a bad turn and ended up on Wash. 99 instead of the 5. we pull into a 76 and try to get directions. instead of directions we get forced to look at a map. Instead of letting us look at the map we get hassled. First by a seemingly helpful hippy who was giving us the hard sell on a bag of weed, which we neede like a hole in the head since we crossing the border later that day. "hey dudes, Hempfest is coming up lots of kind bud and gooballs galore. Lots of fine chicas. you should check it out." as if that weren't annoying enough, the asshat behind the counter starts getting aggressive about buying the map. before we could even figure out if it showed what we needed. We told him we'd buy the damn thing as soon as we found out where we were and where we were going, but the fucker wouldn't listen. "you have to buy now." "we're going to buy it." "you unfold you buy" "We're going to buy it." "buy now" ... then I just snapped. " listen. I'm already having a bad day. I haven't had my breakfast yet. We already told you we were going to buy the fucking map. now you're adding to my bad day. You don't have to piss me off any more than you have already." The guy responds in the same manner as before, this time all up in arms that I said a bad word. " I'm going to escort myself off your property rather than get violent right now. but it's only because your not worth the trouble" So I stormed off. We got back on 5 and we tore out for Vancouver. I've never been as fucked by the border authorities as I was during that crossing. They basically saw that we were musicians and started fucking with us hard. Especially me. I told them the truth about every little piece of bad luck and indiscretion of my early 20s. When they asked me what drugs I did I told them they might need to pull up a chair. I literally told them everything. It was so embarrassing to have to be treated that way. The best and funniest thing was the Canadian agent had exactly the same accent as Simon. So everytime I looked at him I imagined him three sheets to the wind on the ball field wearing nothing but a pink apron and a silver pilot's helmet. We crossed the border soon after that realization. More later. |
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you wear your halo well you wear your halos at your ankles at your ankles with your panties your panties are a pot of gold gold at the end of a rainbow you're a rainbow of deceit. deceitful eyes conceal conceal how much you mean you mean so much to me you mean so much to me |
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I wanted to tell you all about how the northern leg of the tour went but I just don't feel like it right now. I am possessed of an aversion to here right now, so I'm going to take a big dose of Ativan, read more Melville and call it a night. I made the mistake of looking at my email, the smallishness of which led me to perusing my friend's blogs, which led me to look at Amber's blog. Boy I can be an idiot sometimes. This contributes to my lack of motivation to write about the tour. Let your small amount of enthusiasm for reading about my life be sufficed by the fact that I had such a good time being away that I may just have to stay that way. I'm not sure where I can go, but at least I won't be here, much as I love my friends; I can't seem to escape the well developed ruts my life digs, traveling the same ground year after year. Maybe I want to "pull a geographical." |
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I am still exhausted, But I want to write a bit before I head out to the next leg of the tour. To those of you who saw me yesterday at Babs's Bday party, You saw the end of a very long week. We loaded in on Tuesday Morning for a six and a half hour drive to a random Comfort Inn in Long Beach. Then finished the drive Wednesday to San Diego. Pulled up to the Lafayette Hotel near park st. After a short nap we drove out to find the venue and get some film and dinner. Ended up getting bad directions to the restaurant and driving halfway across town on the wrong street. This is a seemingly common occurrence with Joules driving. He is a great driver, but when we get turned around we end up going the wrong way until the bitter bitter end. Somehow no one ever gets mad that we've gotten lost, which I think credits the resilience of the group of people on this tour. Joules is a machine. He can fix anything. He always remains affable and professional and I've yet to see him lose his cool. Joules abides. He's the anchor. His demeanor keeps us all in check even when we get lost. He has an uncanny way of disappearing right when we need his help to load/unload the drum kit, which has caused friction between me and Josh. Josh, the lead singer/guitarist strives to create and is most obviously the underlying force of the tour. He doesn't push, he leads; he's hardest on himself and unrelenting in his pursuit of the quality of his music. I find myself liking him more and more as the tour progresses. He's the reason I'm even on the tour. they needed a roadie to help move amps because Josh's wrists have been bothering him. He's got somekind of repetetive stresss injury that he doesn't want risking his job with Metric. Speaking of, I should probably point you to ilovemetric.com. We talk a lot about Metric and how different this tour is without Jimmy and Emily. Although Jimmy only in passing. I haven't heard much about James, but Emily comes up often in Conversation. Banglime is a band whose motives are as pure as the driven snow. It's all about putting on a good show, getting out there, having fun. The good stuff. Metric is straight up work. Both Js have described it to being similar to working in an office. they're sort of underlings. Emily is the boss, calling the shots. She's the face, the front. To round the descriptives before I return next time to the narrative I need to finish populating our tour van: Saneta is Joules's wife and is on tour with us to be with him more than anything. After getting married he's been on tour nonstop, drumming for metric while Saneta has been getting her law degree and taking the Bar so they haven't had enough time together, They make me sick sometimes with how cute they are, holding each other and kissing. Saneta has a certain purity and desire to fix the world that I find much like myself when I was younger and more naive, But I don't think she's coming out of a place of naivete but instead a real passion. She finds the world as it is lacking and wants to better it. We talk about how plastic bottles outgas toxic compounds and contibute to litter. We talk about how bad the cattle industry is as we pass cow-schwitz. We also knock back Jameson neat and smoke hundreds of Winstons. Not that I'm smoking, but being in a car with smokers is very nearly the sam thing. After a show I reek of Old bar smell and can't get clean enough. This is city dirt at it's dirtiest. Oh yeah and there's me. who is now so tired I have to go back to bed again. Things I haven't yet told you/slash/ RECAP:
load in Oakland
Drive to long beach
san diego-show at Beauty bar. Neon Party. Door girl only name on mailing list.
LA-show at the Roxy. Sleep at holly's place in Silver lake.
Oakland. load in PA at BL's Studio -warehouse party with militant children's hour at place above weird cop bar. Almost get in fight.
later decamp with Joules and Saneta, Ipe and Tekwin to Radio. watch some woman get crazy. ipe- "militant lesbian hour, she was looking for her Cocaine"
Switch out trailer to 12 passenger van
load in Militant Children's hour to van
SF-show
unload MCH gear to his studio
Can't sleep due to too much caffeine not enough benzos.
Current Mood: |
 sleepy |
Current Music: |
Sri Balajee (a little box that makes OM sounds from India) | |
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As you can see from the post time I'm just getting home from the final gig on the first leg of the BL tour. Tonight's show marked a turning point in my life. The show was rough. trying to work when other people are having fun is something I've dabbled in with CF and volunteering with Burning man but I was completely unprepared for what it's like to tour. Being a roadie has very few rewards. They are like the simple pleasures of a farmer or goatherd. Being tired from physical labor, caring for a flock, taking care of the implements of the trade. but much like the simple yak herder, It's a thankless task. I'm exhausted. More later.
Current Mood: |
groggy |
Current Music: |
Militant children's hour. | |
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I promised Emi that I'd write in here with a trip report, so here I am. We're leaving to go to SD right now. I'm excited but unsure of how I'm going to feel. Call that ambivalent, maybe? More later, trust me. |
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I think I have definitely met some of the goals outlined in the previous post. - The house is getting there. (we still need curtains)
- The garden is great (Jim and emily's dog is turning the lawn yellow. That must end.)
- My office is half way to being filled with plants.
- I could be doing better in the losing weight category...
The main downfall of my plans is that I still have nothing in the way of a job. It is absolutely killing me. I need something yesterday. Doing a few micro-gigs a month is not cutting the mustard. Especially after Amber wrecked my little flamingo chicken. Long story short; my camry is dead. Total loss. Apparently Amber was momentarily distracted and someone braked suddenly in front of her because a crack-whore stumbled into the road way in the middle of the block. I'm getting a check cut and Amber is getting some money from her parents to help out but here's the real rub: I can't afford the insurance on a newer vehicle. My insurance on the Camry was about a grand a year. getting a newer car (even, say, a 99 camry) and putting Amber on it raises that to 1400 every six months!!! So I need a job. I need a job. I need to get down and do some fucking work. I'm not afraid of work. I just can't seem to put it together. I've had six jobs slip through my fingers this month alone!! ARRGH! I need a f*cking J O B!
Current Mood: |
ARGH. |
Current Music: |
DEATH of DEATH, Bang lime. | |
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I was going to write this in my private journal but I want to share my goals for right now with everyone so later you all can applaud and or be appalled at my success or lack thereof. I’d like to have most if not all of these things finished by summer. - get new place (check. I always start lists like this with one thing I've already done. And I am very happy with the new place BTW. See below)
- Finish the move-in/Work on house.
- a)get out of boxes
- b)paint
- i. Finalize paint scheme
- ii. buy paint and rollers etc.
- iii. prep
- iv. prime
- v. paint
- c) decorate
- i. fill my office with plants
- ii. make weird curio cabinet
- * taxidermy / specimens
- ** orchids
- *** coral fronds, branches
- † lighting inside
- †† fix clock and rewire star
- ††† re-glaze window
- • steal alabaster horse head from *House of Sparkles* before they tear it down.
- ••scavenge all over ranch for stuff
- ••• carve things
- Iii. furniture!
- *sofa
- **dining room table (Paul’s mom‘s?)
- *** fix coffee table
- † ottoman
- †† office chair for me.
- ††† ???
- iv. curtains
- v. lighting fixtures
- *front hallway
- ** entryway
- *** fan/light in Dining Room
- † kitchen
- †† living room
- †††floor and table lamps for LR
- d) repairs
- i. hot water pressure in shower
- ii. weatherstripping in Backdoor
- iii. replace windows in LR & BR
- Get stable work situation
- a) new website
- i. buy domain KWGdesign.com or .net??
- ii. consult with T. about design
- iii. create new elements for web portfolio accentuating Flash AS, humor, and Illustration
- b) update portfolio
- c) poond the fookin’ pavemunt.
- d) network with friends about jobs
- save a little $
- do a drawing AND write in my journal ( either this one or my physical journal) every day for => 2 months.
- Work in Backyard
- a) plant veggies and new plants
- i. rip out and cultivate the raised beds.
- ii. rip out English ivy. (blackberries there??)
- iii. plant (not in this order)
- *squash
- ** tomatoes
- ***sweet peas
- † onions/ gr. onions
- †† peppers
- ††† corn
- • beets
- ••berries
- •••asparagus
- -carrots
- --rhubarb
- ---Artichokes
- iv. herb garden cut back and replant to fill in
- v. native plants
- vi. etc
- b) build fire pit
- i. buy, steal, or scavenge suitable bricks and/or stones
- ii. design shape
- iii. build
- c) weeding and general maintenance.
- d)chickens!
- i. build chicken coop
- ii. buy chickens, feed, and supplies
- iii. eat mad eggs
- e)waterfeature?
- get in better shape
- a) join gym wi/ pool
- b)hiking
- c) eat better (cut out the fat and sugar)
- * I want some BBQ right now.
- **ribs.
- ***brisket d)
- no, seriously, eat better. more whole food, less eating out see above under save $$.
- Learn how to spearfish
- a)get license
- b)get/make speargun
- c)fins.
- d)eat mad fish I caught myself.
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Let's have the debate. What did Rumsfeld do right? What did he do wrong?
The Rumsfeld Doctrine. Rumsfeld entered the Iraq War without stating what any benchmarks for success might be. We still don't have a clear exit strategy except that we will be there until the puppet government we installed tells us to leave.We have never had honest appraisal of our intentions, goals or exit strategy. Rumsfeld wanted only 60,000 troops in the Iraq invasion. General Franks wanted seven times that. We got a hundred and forty thousand, still not nearly enough. Thus he failed to prepare for occupation. Which has proven to be the most important blunder of his tenure as Defense Secretary. Because of his need to go into war with "the military we have" there were not enough troops to prevent top regime members from fleeing the country with Iraqi funds nor could our troops block foreign insurgents from infiltrating. Because of our need to topple a statue in Baghdad, vast stretches of the Sunni Triangle were bypassed. The force was too small to effectively project power throughout the country, allowing Militias to rise to fill the vacuum. What else?
Current Mood: |
mildly peeved | |
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James McIntyre (1827-1906) Ode on the Mammoth Cheese Weighing over 7,000 Pounds 1We have seen the Queen of cheese,
2Laying quietly at your ease,
3Gently fanned by evening breeze --
4Thy fair form no flies dare seize. 5All gaily dressed soon you'll go
6To the great Provincial Show,
7To be admired by many a beau
8In the city of Toronto. 9Cows numerous as a swarm of bees --
10Or as the leaves upon the trees --
11It did require to make thee please,
12And stand unrivalled Queen of Cheese. 13May you not receive a scar as
14We have heard that Mr. Harris
15Intends to send you off as far as
16The great World's show at Paris. 17Of the youth -- beware of these --
18For some of them might rudely squeeze
19And bite your cheek; then songs or glees
20We could not sing o' Queen of Cheese. 21We'rt thou suspended from baloon,
22You'd caste a shade, even at noon;
23Folks would think it was the moon
24About to fall and crush them soon. |
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rivering's journal