OD times.part one
"WHY, DAMNIT WHY??/??", Charles barked at me. 10:30 am he knows better than to call this earrly.
i can't stand when he does this. Oh well. "BERLIN Is't Goin' TO TAKE YOU, O.D., you've pushed it too freaking far, and if i get phone calls at 4:30 am over here, telling em about your crazy shit. How many more times, O... How many more times???" I met cheales a long time ago, semester one at Mendocino College in Ukiah. Good Times Of course I was only 13 or so at the time, and only began to corrupt just a tad at that point. Started smoking fuckjing cigarettes. Sonofabitch. Can't deal with it. So, "we got "reasons", to ACT THE WAY I DO, AND i GOT "REASONS", TO NOT ACT THE WAY i DO.. I have reasons for fucking everything, man".
... I hear him breathe out slightly sighing
"okay okay, why are you trippiing then, huh fucker. You don't have aany damn reason, you need to just relax.... I now I've eben telling you to DO SO for the last 13 plus god damned years, OD, you haven't been able to calm down.. The only time I can sort of trust you on a deadline is when you've been grounded at the house, when you're stone cold broke, or when you're incredibly high. All those pills, i cannot believe it. All thoses years and all those pills. Why did you start down that road? Why did you take the gray path? WHY DAMMIT MAN??", he barked, and sipped on his jack and coke on the rocks, small ice cubes rattling over the phone.
"HOW much are we gonna get next job??", I asked him back. "I Don't know if there's gonna be a next job, O.D., I don't KNOW", you've been blasted and no one trusts you anymore, I tried to even go for the Canadian Underground Market, they usually had a place for you, now we're gonna have to find another source. You used t be good when you wrote about tech stuff and music. That's when you were GOOD. Not now, all blasted and plastered and wasted and tore back. Your lifestyle is nothing to pwrite home about, and you've ebcome one of the more untrusted names in the STATE. You studied some seriously messed up dudes, Crowley, Burroughs, and that freak, Hunter Thomspon... dear god, kid, how the hell are we supposed to fix this mess?? What do we do?? I've tried getting you gigs over here in Europe and no one wants to hear your babble, and I found out that you've been banned from a bunch of bars over here, and from what I KNOW, you've never been over here nor SET Foot on the continent.
to be contd.
i can't stand when he does this. Oh well. "BERLIN Is't Goin' TO TAKE YOU, O.D., you've pushed it too freaking far, and if i get phone calls at 4:30 am over here, telling em about your crazy shit. How many more times, O... How many more times???" I met cheales a long time ago, semester one at Mendocino College in Ukiah. Good Times Of course I was only 13 or so at the time, and only began to corrupt just a tad at that point. Started smoking fuckjing cigarettes. Sonofabitch. Can't deal with it. So, "we got "reasons", to ACT THE WAY I DO, AND i GOT "REASONS", TO NOT ACT THE WAY i DO.. I have reasons for fucking everything, man".
... I hear him breathe out slightly sighing
"okay okay, why are you trippiing then, huh fucker. You don't have aany damn reason, you need to just relax.... I now I've eben telling you to DO SO for the last 13 plus god damned years, OD, you haven't been able to calm down.. The only time I can sort of trust you on a deadline is when you've been grounded at the house, when you're stone cold broke, or when you're incredibly high. All those pills, i cannot believe it. All thoses years and all those pills. Why did you start down that road? Why did you take the gray path? WHY DAMMIT MAN??", he barked, and sipped on his jack and coke on the rocks, small ice cubes rattling over the phone.
"HOW much are we gonna get next job??", I asked him back. "I Don't know if there's gonna be a next job, O.D., I don't KNOW", you've been blasted and no one trusts you anymore, I tried to even go for the Canadian Underground Market, they usually had a place for you, now we're gonna have to find another source. You used t be good when you wrote about tech stuff and music. That's when you were GOOD. Not now, all blasted and plastered and wasted and tore back. Your lifestyle is nothing to pwrite home about, and you've ebcome one of the more untrusted names in the STATE. You studied some seriously messed up dudes, Crowley, Burroughs, and that freak, Hunter Thomspon... dear god, kid, how the hell are we supposed to fix this mess?? What do we do?? I've tried getting you gigs over here in Europe and no one wants to hear your babble, and I found out that you've been banned from a bunch of bars over here, and from what I KNOW, you've never been over here nor SET Foot on the continent.
to be contd.
Comments
Post a Comment