Illinois, Missouri, and Kansas Can All Blow Me
03.27.05 (10:39 am) [edit]OK, I'm sure you're all nice people, but your states suck. You wouldn't think a guy from Indiana could say something like this, but I can. I have the power and I'm not afraid to use it. Central Indiana is a jungle paradise, a garden of Eden and earthly delights, a motherfuckin' state-wide amusement park next ro your states. You people should move. Abdandon the fucking place and use it solely as one big graveyard for the most truly hateful people imaginiable.
Kansas, please. STOP IT. It's no wonder I saw a couple signs saying stuff like "Abortion kills what God created", you fuckers need all the help you can get to go past population 64 anywhere outside Kansas City, Topeka, and Witchita. Does anyone fuck there? Apparnaty not, there's no sign of healthy human reproduction. Oh, there's a sign reading ADULT SUPERSTORE every hour or two, but I suppose what few men live there need these place in order to jerk off since the women apparantly are all out milking cows and mowing the county every day. Just when you think it's really sucking, you hit the western part of the state and it REALLY goes to Hell in a giant barren fuckbasket. Jesus H. Christ out wandering the wilderness for 40 days and 40 nights, Kansas SUCKS COCK.
Eastern Colorado isn't much better, but it eventually starts having trees. Kansas has trees, but they're obviously planted there as a decoy to make the tourists think they're in a real state. Nearly all the trees are right next to the road, and they don't fit the landscape. Big fuckin' Christmas tree 10 yards off the road, aLL BY ITSELF. Yeah, that grew there on it's own. Did Johnny Appleseed bite a big fuckin' bullet when he saw this place and decided to leave it alone? TREES are nice. Get a few more.
I'm in Denver right now at a Kinko's. Twelve bucks an hour for Internet access. Fuck me in the ass with a chainsaw, Heather.
I'm shortening my trip. No Washington state. In fact, no San Francisco for the moment. I'll do that later, but I'm going to take I-70 to I-15 and go straight through Vegas to LA. It's real early here today (two hours behind the time zone I'm from, and I woke up at 5AM MY time this morning. Not that it's my time anymore, since I'm not there.) and I'm going to take my time getting to Aspen/Woody Creek for the night, then head out tomorrow. Maybe catch a national park before Vegas. I'm not fucking around too much, partly out of a need to conserve time and money, but also laregely becuase I feel a strong need to stay focused, and this just seems like the right thing to do.
Well, I'll write mroe when I can. I miss my daughter very much. I've talked to her on the phone twice since leaving, and she still seems to be quite happy. I really love her, and I hope I'm not doing something that will make her forget that.
Take care, you fuckers,
Doug
On The Road Again (Just Like Willie)
03.25.05 (12:23 am) [edit]Well, I'm out of here tomorrow.
I hate a lot of this, but most of it I think I'm OK with. Sheryl has said a few times that everything happens for a reason. I've come to doubt just about everything in the last few years, and I'm no longer sure if she's right or not, but I'll lean towards yes. The simple fact that Katie is here, and that Sheryl and I are still on very good terms, that says something.
And even if everything is truly random, if there's nothing but us and sheer luck, if there's nothing behind what we see, what the fuck? Does it matter? Is it really so bad? I've come to realize that it really doesn't mean a fucking thing what "it's all about", what matters is what the fuck I'm going to do about it. It might be pure luck that any of us are here at all, and that's OK. We should be thankful for that, at the very least. Some people don't get that far. Some people are fuckin' dead. I'm not. That's in my favor, dontcha think?
As much as I've fucked things up in the past - and I have- I'm still ehre and I've not killed anyone. I've not ever had to really worry much about the most important aspects of survival. I've been taken care of. That puts me in a very lucky category, even if I've been quite willing to bitch about it. And I will continue to do so, becuase there's a lot of shit I don't like, in the world, and in myself. But goddammit, it doesn't fuckin' matter right now. I'm here. I'm somewhat healthy. I'm not covered in my own shit. And even if I have completely fucked up this marriage...well, I havne't really. She still cares, she's still being better to me than I feel like I deserve. So I guess I've only partly fucked it up, and I guess that's pretty much my life in a nutsack. I've fucked some things up, I've done some other things right. I've rarely done either to such an extreme to really destroy and/or create anything much. If anything, I've done one thing damn right, and that's being a father to Katie. I feel good about that. Really good. Though now I'm taking her daddy away from her for a long time. That sucks in ways that I can't describe, but I can honestly say that I know she knows I love her. She needs that more than anything - her parents' love. If I thought she wans't going to continue recieving that every single moment of her life, I wouldn't be leaving. But I know she's safe here, I know that she's in a wonderful place with her mommy. And for now, that's going to have to do. God fucking damn it in a rancid shitbox, I hate feeling the way I do when I see her and know I won't see her again for two months. But she's going to be OK. And so will I.
The trip will be different than I wanted, I'm basically cutting it in half. I can't do everything I want to do, but shit, I'm lucky to be doing it at all. It's not a vacation. It's a jump into new territory, and I cna't fuck with time and money, because neither is unlimited. there's enough of each to do some serious damage to my stability, but not enough to pretend I'm bulletproof for a month. So I'll be in San Francisco in a week. I've got a couple fun stops in mind (Woody Creek, Colorado and Arches National Park are the main ones) but I'll not be fucking around much. I need to be somewhere I can call a semi-home for about a week within two to three weeks. Certified mail will be heading my way to finish up business back here with Sheryl, so my goal is to be in LA in two weeks and find a place to stay for 5 to 7 days so they can send that.
I've heard enough good things about both LA and San Francisco to not be sure which I'm going to. Of course, i've been to LA already, and San Diego as well (which I LOVE) but I'm still not sure where I'm going for good. I need a place that will be at least semi-nurturing to someone who's been out of touch with himself for a few years but is wanting desperately to be creative again. Somewhere with space to work and people to connect with. And somewhere that won't kill my bank account to be in, which is problematic in that part of the country. Shit, real estate alone is two to three times more expensive there than here. It won't be easy, but it will be worth doing.
I've had so many doubts in the past week, but not about doing it. I can't stay here. Not now. Maybe I'll be back here soon, maybe not. I barely give two fucks. I only worry about Katie, and I know I don't have t worry about her. Me, I'll live. I hope. I'll be making a will out in the next couple months (I'm leaving lots of Hunter Thompson books and Zappa CDs to Katie, but she can't have them until she's at least 16, because I know her mother will dig me up and kill me all over again if I don't leave that provision in) and I'll also be making out a living will, because I like eating veggies, and might not even mind being one for a couple years, but only a couple. Not fifteen. Contrary to what psychotic religious people might think, you ain't coming back after fifteen years. JESUS will be back before you will, and that motherfucker has been dead for 2000 now.
I'm going to pretend I'm 20 for a while, but I'll be able to do it through 35 years of observation, and I may be stupid sometimes, but not nearly as much as when I was 20 the first time. Maybe that's why I've had to wait so long. I simply have not been equipped to deal with this shit before. That's sucked, but it's been what it's been. I've learned a couple things. I came back from CA the last time after only ten days, because I had no choice at the time. This time I've got a few more choices. Not as many as I'd like, but that's OK. I'm lucky to be alive, even if I do forget that often.
Be good to yourselves, you fuckers,
Dougie
Heal The Freak
03.24.05 (1:54 pm) [edit]Heal the freak
Let those entrails speak
'Cause you know the meek
Don't inherit shit
My balls are weak
Swam up my own shit creek
Only thought it too bleak
But what did I know
Monsters and goblins don't carry flashlights
The beam slices through their fictitious being
Stability is to be prized only through the most curious eyes
The rope too tight only decreases your inner seeing
Fly the fuck away
Men wise and unwise say
I've seen the gods to whom they pray
And I don't know them
Got a TV tray
A few bucks and my flashlight ray
To those horned motherfuckers, I say nay!
Eat my light
This Advertisement Paid For By The Close Personal Friends Of Jesus
03.21.05 (11:10 pm) [edit]Fucking Republicans.
Terri Schiavo has been dead for 15 years, but some people just can't let go. Our government, who apparantly has a very light schedule and nothing of any real importance to do these days, have taken it upon themselves to piss down the throats of Florida physicians and lawmakers, and play Spin The Morality Bottle with the life (sic) of this poor comatose girl.
This is politics, boys and girls. If you think for one second that these psudo-moral twits give one rancid FUCK about this girl's life, you are delusional and need to seek professional assistance.
A group of people who are all for a senseless war that has killed thousands, and who support a president who used to execute retarded people when he ran a state known for being really into guns and capital punishment, THESE unrepentant swinelords now own the life of Terri Schaivo.
Who ARE these degenerate little thugs? Their "respect for human life" is selective at best, lunatic at worst. It's nothing to these people to throw suspected criminals into overseas prisons without an attorney and let the guards cornhole them with rolled up American flags, why are they being so precious about a DEAD person? Come on, people. The girl who ran the counter at the gas station in Marion, Indiana where I bought fuel yesterday was one step removed from being dead even though she looked perfectly healthy, just look where she's at. You think a woman who has not been able to EAT OR TALK for fifteen goddamn years is actually ALIVE? It doesn't take a doctor to figure this shit out.
But it doesn't matter. Fuck the doctors, fuck the judges, fuck everyone who has already inflicted thenmselves on this woman's "future." We are CONGRESS, hear us roar, motherfuckers. Because WE - the law and order people - are above the law, and don't have to have the slightest resepect for the decisions already made under the law of states. Remember states? Yeah, we like to say we're into state's rights. But really, who are we kidding? Nobody buys that shit anymore. We certainly won't give states the cash to educate their kids or care for their infrastructure, and the money the Dept. Of Homeland Security gives to states tends to mostly go to places like Wyoming, where, of course, all the terrorists are hiding, But hey, fuck Florida. Fuck their laws. WE run the show now. Us, the Close Personal Friends Of Jesus, who so dearly respect human life as long as it's roughly the same color as us. Maybe.
There may indeed be reasons to debate this case. She left no living will, her wish to be set free from this world was apparantly only communicated to her husband. I think it's obvious what needs to be done, but let the people who have an interest in this case do the work, it is NOT the place of the federal government. That this is not obvious to people is a truly frightening indicator of how far down the Fascism Fun Slide we've come. That people with deranged priorities set by a bizarre, twisted rendering of a thousands year old religion are the one who make this decision for Terri Schaivo (and eventually for anyone like her now that precedent has been set) should be of grave concern to EVERYONE, those who want to keep her alive included. No, the federal government should not be welcome here. It's only another distraction from the shit they're really up to, another Michael Jackson trial to divert the attention of Americans from the petty rat finks who are looting our National Treasury and sending out children off to die in their corporate-sponsored wars.
These despicable vermin have the moral compass of a coke-injected gerbil conducting deep space exploration in the sphincter of a very gay night manager at the Blue Oyster Inn. They fanatically burrow their way up the intestinal tract, ignoring or even rejoicing in the shit around them, looking not for escape, but to invade every inner orifice of their wretche captive. There's a rodent in our butt, America. It's long past due for a heavy duty enema.
Flush,
Doug
I Want A Garden
03.21.05 (12:19 am) [edit]Fuckity fuckfuck fuckfuckfuck
It's on the TV tray
Fuckity fuckfuck fuckfuckfuck
My guacamole's gay
It's in the beef's best interest
Not to eat more of that cow
The sound of one spleen clapping
Is something like my plow
Shitty-shit shitshit shitshitshit
Uganda knows my pain
Plookity plookplook plookplookplook
Help me remove this stubborn stain
The twisted turnips call for me
But I don't have the time
It's a terrible form of debauchery
To add in too much lime
Fuckity fuckfuck fuckfuckfuck
And a big ol' goddamn shit
Shitty-shit shit shit shitshtishit
Just a contest for that twit
In rabid bouts of careless joy
I count my blessed meat
It's not too much to ask of you
To make my moss more peat
Take my tie
Take my mind
Pizza pie
Cracklin' pork rind
Fuck
Love,
Robert Frost
Dammit now's the time, baby, dammit, now's the time.
03.20.05 (12:10 am) [edit]Keneally's song Panda is wafting through my head. It's Sheryl's favorite song on Dog, and I think about her every time I hear it. It's a song I wish I could sing to her, but now's the time for something different. Dammit.
May Teo edit our lives into a wonderous thing.
I watched the Dog DVD with my mom tonight. Dad watched part. They don't appreciate all of it, but Mom did like a few songs quite well, and Dad even seemed to be interested in the improv stuff. I love doing terrible things to my mother, so I inflicted Lizard Tongue on her. If you don't know what I'm talking about, go to www.keneally.com and order a copy of Dog with the DVD. Do it NOW. Your life is a gurgling morass of pathetic monkey shit without it, you swine.
I repacked stuff today. I went nuts when I left Cincy, and threw shitloads of books and CDs into three boxes. There's no WAY I can justify all that stuff on this trip. So I bought a 200 CD capacity folder and I'll live without cases and inserts for a while. I whittled down the CDs and books into one box, and I'll take the other two back to Cincy next week to leave in the basement with the other shit I won't see for a while. But I've got all my Hunter books, all my Lovecraft, all my bass-related music books. And this chair. And this paddle-ball game. And that's all I need.
Lovecraft has been a passion again for a few months. Gotta love that Ultimate Cosmic Horror bullshit. I've been writing some Cthulhu Mythos short fiction of my own (one reads like an unholy alliance betwen Lovecraft and Hunter) and I hope to finish them soon, maybe get them published. I think they're good. In fact, I think they might just fuckin' rock. I don't think that about hardly anything I do, so that's an accomplishment.
Speaking of that kind of thing, I'm doing something funny tomorrow night. I'm going to a horror movie with my dad. We both really liked The Ring a lot, which is funny, because it's a fairly ridiculous movie, but somehow it really grabbed me. The Ring 2 is just out, so we're going to see it. Me and Dad. Wow. I think the last movie we went to was The Unforgiven along with my grandfather and uncle. Hopefully Dad won't do what he did during Top Gun when I was a kid, and annoy the fuck out of me with all the reasons why this or that or whatever would never happen in the "real world." Dad, it's a fucking movie, get over it. I do love him though. :)
I spent part of the day at the library, talking with the distant cousin who runs the genealogy department there. She gave me a copy of the Civil War pension papers for one of our ancestors. (I'm related to him about three ways, long story.) I was also looking for my aunt's obituary. She died a few years ago. Mom actually called the library while I was there and told me that my plans for tomorrow are changed - my cousin Kim is in from Colorado and Dad's family are getting together tomorrow. Now I can give Kim some shit about the genealogy info she's put up online, since some of it is rather wrong. I haven't seen her in ten years. This family is such that I don't remember who half my cousins ARE, we see each other so seldom. Most of them are older than me (the oldest is only two years younger than my mom) and I was never close to any of them. So tomorrow will be cool.
I saw family on Mom's side tonight. My cousin Heather had a birthday party for her daughter Chelsea. I felt fucking old. My cousin, two years younger than me, with a nine year old daughter. Christ. We had a good time, and ate good. Saw one of my uncles and my grandparents. Mom told me (she got there first) that she told Uncle Butch about my divorce, and he almost started crying. He'd stopped when I got there. He puts on a good front of being a hard guy, but he's really quite soft inside, and I really love him. I know he loves seeing Katie. It was Grandma's mission for years to get me and Butch married, and he got there first. (He divorced Heather's mom years ago, and she died a few months ago.) I think Butch was really surprised and happy to see me with Sheryl and Katie. That means a lot to me.
I tried to work out last night how I'm going to cross the country, and it's all insane. It will take 9 days to get to Seattle if I do all I want to do, and I HAVE to cut that down to 6 or 7. But dammit, I want to see so much. My route will take me right through Salt Lake City, how can I not see the giant Mormon genealogy library? How can I possibly drive so close to Yellowstone National Park and not go there? How can I not drive through Missoula and try to find where David Lynch lived? I want to see about 17 things just in Washington state, for fuck's sake. There's no fucking way I'll make it to LA in two weeks, but I'll have to figure it out.
I need to do the Vulcan mind-meld with my bass every chance I get from now on. I haven't been playing much, it's hurt too much, it's felt downright goddamn pointless. But, dammit. Now's the time.
My hands hurt. I'm working on carpal tunnel in both wrists. Kids, porn can kill. Seriously, I've not taken care of myself at all in the past five years, even though I've tried really hard. I've become obsessed with my health just as it's going down the shitter. But I now can feel the need to break that cycle and get back to where I was right before Katie was born. I was eating better and doing so CONSISTENTLY. I was doing basic tai chi, which was really helpful. I was walking more. These things need to be done. I'll never survive this move if I don't do concrete physical things for myself, becuase I'm convinced that the expansion of my ADD/bipolar problems in the past five years is directly tied to A.) My hatred of myself for living this impossible double life, and B.) my utter lack of discipline in keeping myself healthy. I need to THINK well, and I've not been able to do that for more than a small stretch of time for quite a while now.
I'm fucking tired. Fuck it, I'm outta her.e I'll write more tomorrow.
Yours in Jesus H. Fucking Christ,
Maya Angelou
The Sanctity Of Marriage
03.18.05 (11:59 pm) [edit]My wife and I are separating. She came to me Sunday with this, and I decided last night that I had to go, even though I'd been saying all week that I was going to find a way to make it work. Well, this is how it works. I can't stay.
This has been inevitable for some time, and I think we've both known that. I'm a miserable person to live with and have been pretty much since forever. But the past five years have been very difficult, and I've had more psychological and physical problems than I ever thought I'd have to cram into that amount of time. I've been SICK, and it's poisoned my relationship with the one woman who ever truly gave me what I needed.
But I've also needed to do things for myself, things I was going to do five years ago. When I came home from an aborted move to California in September 1999, I felt very strongly that I'd be back there soon. Then I thought about going back to school, in Boston. Sheryl even arranged for me to go out there to see Berklee School Of Music, and it felt very right to me.
But I couldn't imagine leaving behind this wonderful person who I'd met two weeks after returning home from SoCal, and I had to make a very clear choice. I chose her. I do not regret that, I cannot possibly regret that. But in denying myself the opportunity to do those things I was so sure I was meant to do, I became very fucked up very quick. And I've been a pain in the ass ever since. I've not been able to reconcile the desire to have two things, two lives, that I cannot possibly have at once but want so bad to do just that. The amount of guilt I've been carrying has been huge. How can I want to do anything other than be with a wonderful woman, a wonderful daughter, and a wonderful home? Well, shit happens. I've lived with two utterly conflicting desires in the past, but this time it was much more serious.
Katie. Dammit, I can't believe I have to take her Daddy away from her. I'll call, I'll write, I'll visit when I can, but I've pretty much thrown a bucket of shit on my daughter's head, and now THAT has to follow me around. This is why this hasn't happened sooner, why I've been terrified of leaving, why I've hated myself even more than I already did. She sat in my arms last night and cried and told me she will miss me. I wanted to throw myself down the stairs after that. The pain on her face tore me apart. Christ, why does this shit have to happen this way?
I told her last night that I would never ever leave her if I didn't think she would be safe. And she will be, because she has the best mother ever. I knew very early on that Sheryl would be an incredible mommy, and she has not proven me wrong in any way. Katie is with the best person she can be with now, and hopefully someday I can be there too. People, this is a wonderful woman I'm splitting with. I have nothing but good to say about her. Sheryl, I still love you very much, and I hope someday you can learn to love me again. I pray for that, even though I know no one is listening. I want to make you happy again someday, no matter how things end up.
I'm at my parents now, where I will be for a few days. I can't possibly come back here to stay, this is the place I waited 30 years to get the fuck out of. But I'll spend some time visiting. Next week, I'll go back to Cincy, get some shit straightened out, and leave Friday to go back to California. It's way too far to go without Katie, but for now, I have to do this. Even if I fuck it all up and fall on my ass, who gives a shit? I've fucked up every other major thing I've ever tried, it's not like it will be anything new. And it doens't matter. I'm still here, I'm still in one piece. Maybe fucking things up is necessary. People who never fuck anything up are the people who stay in places like Marion, Indiana and die without ever really living. And I know one thing I haven't fucked up, even though it's so hard to think about now, but I HAVE been a good father. I didn't know I could do that, but I am very confident that I've been good to Katie, even if I have to do this to her now. It's the one thing I've done really right in five years. It took two to figure it out, but I've done that. I know that. I can be proud of that, if nothing else.
God, I miss her.
I don't know exactly where I'm going, but I have maps, and Sheryl is being amazing on providing me with the means to take my time up to a point, and be in good shape for a couple months. I'll confess to a certain level of excitement in finally being able to do something I've wanted to do for 20 years, and drive across the country. I'll finally see the part of southern Illinois where my grandmother was born and where my great-grandmother's parents are buried. I'll see the plains, though I'll probably try to move fast through that part. (Hey, I want to say I've been to Kansas, but that doens't mean I want to HANG OUT there.) I'll see Colorado. I'll stop at Woody Creek and have a shot of Chivas in honor of one of my heroes, Hunter S. Thompson. I'll drive through the Rocky Mountains. It looks like I'll be going north towards Seattle (a friend there insists that I come, and I don't feel like arguing), so I'll also see that place, maybe also see other parts of Washington, like Mt. St. Helens, Mt. Rainer where one of my cousins lives near, and the town where Twin Peaks was shot. Then I'll drive down the coast, see the length of California, stay in San Francisco a night or two. Hell, maybe I'll even stay there for good. I don't know. If not, back south to LA, a city I really loved, or maybe San Diego, which I loved even more. I'll be able to see the desert again, which I cannot possibly convey my love for even though I was there so short a time. I'll drive to Vegas, maybe wave to the bats around Barstow and the hitchhikers in Baker. I won't have a trunk full of drugs, but I will know fear & loathing, I do live in Bush's America, after all. It's a beautiful place, even if they're trying to make it ugly. Fuck them anyway. They ain't gonna ruin my trip.
Doing all this without Sheryl and Katie feels wrong somehow, but it's something I've wanted for so long, and I cannot deny myself this chance. I cannot deny myself the chance to find some freaks out there to make noise with, and yes, there is a bass and a guitar and small amplifier in the car. Maybe I won't make it work out there an I'll have to come back. Doesn't matter. The time has come today. My song has been psychedelicized. Go west, dumbass.
There's so much more to say, but maybe I don't need to do that right now. You folks be good to yourselves.
Daddy loves you.