Weekend in Baltimore = rad, life is tired in mind and yet full full of the eat. Reading was super packed and pleasantly hung with blocks of black, I like how Michael Kimball hosts an event, I like how he talks and thinks and is nice, I like Michael Kimball's house, in the house I had very violent dreams again, I am beginning to only have very violent dreams, this is likely as I have not spat out new words since a couple days before Chicago, I have drank / ate bad food more in past two weekends than in a lot of other time combined, which is the rope the child ate to hang himself with to get into the hidden layer of Metal Gear Solid 9, if there is a 9th edition, which if there isn't yet, this blog takes place in the future.
Someone should make a documentary following drunk Adam Robinson: I may need him on my rap record. Justin Sirois is really nice, like a nice guy you want to see around, and funny. Kyle Minor is really nice and his reading reminded me slightly of McCarthy, I like anytime anyone says 'Kentucky' in a story and means it in reference to getting beat, his book 'In the Devil's Territory' is now on my buy list. I liked Kathleen Rooney's reading about being a craiglist nude model for $$, it made me want to be pleased, and be pleased, i want that book too, i think it made me want to write nonfiction more too
books
I think when I am reading out loud to people i start to have dinner inside my body and my body keeps talking while I am having the dinner: I liked hanging out with Shane Jones again, this time more than in Chicago thankfully, and Molly, Adam, Michael, Justin, whatever things inside me i was killing that second night drunk out of mind in which I probably ingested 3000 calories of pizza and chicken before pouring water on Adam while the pizza workers looked pissed and I shouted about dick, this is all on tape somewhere, Adam did a poem called I think 'Steve Reich meets a preacher' that I want to watch in 100 boxes again
At one point drunk shouting I demanded there has never been a Southern writer, that there are only 4 Southern states and no Faulkner is not a Southern writer, O'Connor isn't, Barry Hannah is more than a lot of people but not, other things
Gas stations in the South are Southern writers but Padgett Powell isn't, Cormac McCarthy isn't
the south gets confused a lot by people, I need to do more thinking about this, I think the South exists sometimes but not where it is is is
I am not a Southern writer, because where I sit most times isn't an existenereaer
but I am more a Southern writer than Faulkner, promise
to the extent that I am a writer at all, which I think is not at all
I like candy
books books books
people people
words talking words books eating
candy
I had several experiences in Wendy's's during the drive up to and down from Balitmore, if there weren't already a book about Wendy's I would write it, I am sad there is in the same way I was sad when Steve Almond beat me to writing a candy memoir even though I still could write a candy memoir
I am going to try to not move at all during the 10 days until NYC / Providence / Northampton so that I will still be able to talk by then, not that I need to talk or want to or will or am worth talking to, the best thing I can do is fall on concrete attached to Adam Robinson's back and make guffaw sounds and feel dumb
The arms of my sofa are tired of me stacking new books on them but I still like it
TIRED SOFA
TIRED SOFA
Jamie Iredell on EVER:
This is a book about insides. With a daring syntax reminiscent of an unfettered Kerouac, a Visions of Cody Kerouac, Butler details the interior of a woman's mind, her house, her perceptions of her neighbors, the inside of light. If you looked up "nuance" in the dictionary in 2010, the entry would contain the full-text of Ever. Subtlety is the game here--potentially surprising to those familiar with Butler's baby-themed stories. The text is set off by architecturally-fascinating pieces by Calamari Press frontman Derek White. Without drawing away from the story, the images move the eye, like light, like a woman and her bathtub titties. At the end of this one, just like the narrator, you'll experience a "slow baptism," the insides of your insides on the outs.
I have a thing in the new issue of Bateau, its a really old piece but i still like it, the issue is beautiful and has been upgraded to perfectbound, it has Kim Chinquee, J.P. Dancing Bear, Jen Pieroni, Pedro Ponce, Sarah Sloat, a lot of other peoples, it is nice
everyone is really nice, its impressive, i like it
i am ready to type the least words I've ever typed
and make a bungee baby out of liquid syrup
on the way home from Balitmore I listened to Young Jeezy's 'Thug Motivation 101' four times straight through
I also listened to the audio book of Scott Smith's The Ruins, which is maybe the dumbest book of all time, even for a book, except for when the girl gives the dude a handjob in his sleep because she is scared of the plant that is going to eat them
I also listened to Pimp C and Liars and Agoraphobic Nosebleed
I want some more Wendy's
Monday, February 23, 2009
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12 comments:
i too want more wendy's. i too want more wendy.
Oh God. I was going to leave a comment but as soon as I got here I forgot. Sweet Jebus he's everywhere.
I wish you could ride my back to my office and just sit there and say things like "I cuss a lot -- I might say shit more than once. I'll just stop when I get to the shit I'm thinking of."
i will start driving back up, we'll begin a guided tour of baltimore's dirty sections
come on man, not even ol' mr. clemens
ok, barry wins.
mark twain is the only southern writer who ever existed.
100%
Amherst is not in the South but it's where your reading is. Northampton is where your bed is, though, so there is that.
I once witnessed a Wendy's cook get into a fist fight with the guy working the money buttons. I never got my burger but I was fine with that.
When I lived in Baltimore, everyone told me it was really "The South." When I live in Athens, GA everyone told me it was not really "The South." Best I can figure is that I'm the most Southern writer from Long Island.
Writing nonfiction can be fun. I like it when people question me if things actually happened or not.
amherst is confusing
can i write 'Letters to 'Letters to Wendy's''
is that ok?
I like Wendy's and I like "Letters to Wendy's" a bunch.
Also--I think Larry Brown and William Gay are southern writers. Through and through.
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