Gut Rumbles
 

June 26, 2012

guitar man

Six years ago on this date the world became a less intelligent, less lively, dimmer and more lonely place.

You are not forgotten, Acidman.

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Who draws the crowd and plays so loud, baby it's the guitar man
Who's gonna steal the show, you know baby it's the guitar man
He can make you love, he can make you cry
He will bring you down then he'll get you high
Somethin' keeps him goin' miles and miles a day
To find another place to play.

Night after night who treats you right, baby it's the guitar man
Who's on the radio, you go listen to the guitar man
Then he comes to town and you see his face
And you think you might like to take his place
Somethin' keeps him driftin' miles and miles away
Searchin' for the songs to play.

Then you listen to the music and you like to play along
You want to get the meaning out of each and every song
Then you find yourself a message and some words
To call your own and take them home.

He can make you love, he can get you high
He will bring you down then he'll make you cry
Somethin' keeps him movin' but no one seems to know
What it is that makes him go.

Then the lights begin to flicker and the sound is getting dim
The voice begins to falter and the crowds are getting thin
But he never seems to notice he's just got to find
Another place to play, either way got to play
Either way got to play


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June 21, 2012

chickens

Originally published October 17, 2003

Chickens are the nastiest birds in the world. They'll shit in their food and water, they will cannabalize their dead and they'll fuck non-stop all day. That's what chickens do. I know. I once raised them.

I had 28 hens and four roosters. "Foghorn" was a Rhode Island Red and cock of the walk. He didn't take any shit from anybody in the chicken coop and he was always willing to drill a hen. I also had "Slick Red," who stayed in the rafters most of the time, until he saw Foghorn occupied with drilling. Then, Red would swoop down and get some, too. If Foghorn noticed him, Red always flew back to sit in the rafters before he got his ass handed to him. He usually got some pussy first, because chickens don't take very long when they are pasasionate. I don't think the hens knew what hit them sometimes.

I miss my chicken coop. I got about 12 eggs every day out of there and a fresh egg is different from what you buy in the grocery store. The yolks are more yellow and they stand up higher when you cook them over-easy. The eggs are more yellow and fluffy if you scramble them.

But be careful. If you have a "setting hen." you may find an egg that you THINK is fresh and crack it to discover an embryonic chicken inside. That's kinda disgusting on a Saturday morning.

It's not as bad as finding your wife in bed with another man on a Thursday night, but what the fuck? We've got roosters, hens and cunts in the world.

They all do what they do.

June 14, 2012

callouses

Originally published October 17, 2003

I've done a lot of physical work in my life and I've walked many a mile in work boots. I played guitar every day for five years and damn near deformed my fingers from that experience. I could strike a kitchen match on the callouses on my left hand back then. My hands still don't seem to belong to the same person today. Left hand and right hand look completely different.

Now my callouses are on the inside. They don't show, but they exist. I've had my heart broken, my manhood stolen and I've looked the Reaper square in the face and lived to tell about it. I live all by myself now, I have lots of money and I fear no consequences. I am more free now than I have ever been in my life.

You know what scares me today? NOTHING!

I like having that feeling. Nobody can hurt me, ever again.

June 07, 2012

mistakes you learn from

Originally published October 17, 2003

I was twelve years old and playing in the woods with my friends. All of a sudden, I really needed to take a dump. I thought about it. I wasn't going to run through the trees, mount my bicycle and ride two miles back to my house. I probably would have shit my pants before I made it all the way home. I decided to shit right where I was.

I did well, bucked up against a pine tree and keeping the crap off my bare feet. But I made a horrible mistake once my business was finished. I wiped my young ass with a handfull of SPANISH MOSS.

For those unfamiliar with Spanish Moss, it's that gray, beard-looking fungus that hangs from live oaks all over Savannah. It makes good asswipe except for one small problem. Every goddam redbug and chigger in southeast Georgia LOVES to make a home in Spanish Moss. The only thing they like better is climbing out of that moss to infest a 12 year-old boy's ass.

Did you ever watch a dog drag his ass over the carpet, doing that scratch-ass thing that dogs do? You should have seen ME for the next two weeks after the moss incident. Bejus! I thought I was gonna die. I had more chiggers per square inch around my privates than you could count.

I've never wiped my ass again with Spanish Moss after that day.