Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Remodeling Vans For Free
I should have a show: This Old Van
and I work with homeless people who are trying to keep their vans running. It would be way cooler than that show about remodeling houses occupied by snobs who want to better see their private part of the beach. For example, all the work would be done in a Walmart parking lot. That would make some interesting interactions with police and security. Especially since the work would be done at night. How funny would that be? Kids crying...drugs...everyone drunk...nothing works right...police...warrants...laughs...broken van and the guy wants more space for a pot grow room. Call Oggy!
and I work with homeless people who are trying to keep their vans running. It would be way cooler than that show about remodeling houses occupied by snobs who want to better see their private part of the beach. For example, all the work would be done in a Walmart parking lot. That would make some interesting interactions with police and security. Especially since the work would be done at night. How funny would that be? Kids crying...drugs...everyone drunk...nothing works right...police...warrants...laughs...broken van and the guy wants more space for a pot grow room. Call Oggy!
Eleven Bucks
Recorded a song but they are kicking me out of the library. It has the lyrics..."My pencil is broken but my eraser works fine."
I should literally have this video be a pay per view along with WWF and Captain Lou Albano with rubber bands in his beard should pay me personally. It cost me dearly to upload it to you hippy freeloaders.
Anyway, I'm determined and motivated to release this early version which will probably never be developed due to my upcoming sun stroke and malnourishment of the soul. My iPod has been shuffling through the early albums of Tom Waits, the albums where you can still understand the words, and I've determined that he's neither concerned with the music or with the lyrics but enters a kind of trance that attunes his mouth to his ear and he begins to basically pray a hobo's song. I was underneath a broken Toyota that had spend some time in the Gulf of Mexico. The insurance company reached a settlement with the tow truck driver and paid him $10K and gave him the truck. He said he wants to get it going again by which he means he wants me to get it going again because he doesn't have the time. He gives me random projects like checking bearings and fixing generators and turning the flywheel on a drowned Toyota.* And deep in thought, far from the evil Oggy twin brother/self inflicted denial monster who preys on the kinder and gentler monk of my nigh shadows, these words came from my mouth involuntarily..."Simulated Sex on a Saturday Night. There's a Rumor going 'round that Chico's shit is out of sight."
If I could do that all the time I'd be as unpopular as Tom Waits.
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