October 16, 2014 by vinylburns
Back in the day…
I used to do a bit of high wire work… Mainly because there was a girl to impress.
Nothing impresses a lady like a twelve foot fall into a rhino enclosure.
Never really got used to African wildlife after that. Its such a raw rough continent so there’s no reason I can think of that they’d be overly chilled out at all.
Blood… That’s what they want.
Now Cougars. They’re quite a challenge too.
Back in those college days. First drinks under the belt and all lady-teen used-to-have-been aggressive, almost hot, ladies.
That’s a time of learning, yearning, burning youthful desires and flat emotional tires.
Anybody could catch a ride and get most of the way home.
Wasn’t uncommon that one of you would have to take the long lonely walk home all by themselves.
You’d get there eventually, of course… and take a shower. But it was never as much fun as taking the whole journey together.
Eventually I learned not to sprint off the start line and take an easy cruise to the lakeside.
You’d look out on the cool waters, breathe a shared sigh. And stare up at the skies. Open. Cold. Deep.
It’s really hard to keep thinking of the past, so we’d all bring ourselves into a moment of hard harsh immediacy.
Find a moment or two inside our own hearts.
That was easy and forgiving.
You probably know yourself better that I do, but I’m guessing you’ll learn a few things when that bell finally tolls for you.
See, education is a strange place. Not every heart survives, but If you do make it. The synthesisers of success… Are SO worth it
Alright, I’ve talked a lot about ether-oak horse buff tonight.
I’m not sure why. I think it’s the vodka.
Nonetheless I should focus and zoom in on the task at hand.
Ben Folds is a fine musician an even finer driver. He owns a number of busses and runs them hot, like a bus with no oil in it.
Did I mention he’s a terrible mechanic.
But this is not science or mechanics.
This is the season of summer love. It’s far and away the funnest flavour of new frivolity.
I don’t know who has time for it of course, what with the Internet and selfies and re tweeting all your selfies and taking photos of the keyboard where you pressed the retweet button.
Some manage it though, and that’s nice for you.
Boning up on the finer aspects of romantic inclinations.
Mascinations of velour. And slippery togetherness.
Nothing says love like a drive through the countryside with the top down and a dog in the boot
I know that sounds like a rough ride for a young puppy but I asked a doctor guy I used to owe money to, and he said it’s fine.
I’d be more concerned about someone who’s all aggressive and angry about the way I’m treating my dog.
Well maybe that’s wrong.
It seems wrong.
I don’t think I’d really put a dog in the trunk.
That’s just asking for a lawsuit and some bad bad chis-mos…
Now it’s time to calm down and get my sensible madness all back in the chilli out-box. It’s like a tiny cardboard sauna for my brain and my words and my uncle. He likes to get away sometimes, so I let his imagination in as my plus-one.
Eccentricity can make for some fantastic sentence structure. And that’s why I play the big game. Right here. On unicorn street.
Speaking of which. Stay tuned for my new single.
Next Time – Vinyl Burns