“I’ve been thinking some of suicide, but there’s bars out here for miles.” –David Ryan AdamsGreetings,
The address you gave me looks straight-up made-up. If you’re reading this, it’s a goddamned miracle. You’ve undoubtedly already discovered the friendship bracelet included if this made it though. I hope these colors aren’t offensive to any ethnic group you’re carousing with around Iraq or wherever the hell. It’d be pretty ironic if you were to get hurt because of friendship. I mean I’d chuckle, but it’d still be basically un-funny. Also, do me a favor and don’t do anything super gay with this bracelet, it was made out of love so don’t like go get a buddy and tie your dicks together and race. If you do this, don’t tell me. You should just write about it, keep it in your diary or something. Dick races, fag.
I’ve been bugging [redacted] a bunch to get her to send me a titty picture. You should do the same. Two heads working on this problem are probably better than just the one. You could always fuck things up but I reckon I could too. Titties are sensitive things, you’ve got to be careful, unless they’re into that sort of thing. I like to get bit from time to time, pain can be pleasure or whatever. I’m not saying that’s what I’m all about, just that it’s something I enjoy.
I also really love my old lady friend [redacted]. We got back together again and it’s like every time we get back: love at first sight like Kylie Minogue. I’ve hollered at a few of those broads from them interwebs, just in passing though. I also keep bitching out of meeting up with them. Partly because of some bad experiences: the swede and then that big girl from second senior year that wound up living on the floor below me. I bitch out of meeting partly because these bitches seem to want to go on a right proper date like coffee and conversation and such. I basically want to meet a broad at a bar, get sloppy and then get it sloppy. Aw, see what I did there?
I’ve been slumming with gutter trash lately and that’s not doing anyone any good. I gotta find myself a nice pussy to hibernate in for the winter. Hump on a regular slam piece, feel me? I’m talking about a real nice one too, with glitter and such. Blow me some kisses.
Lately the old boss lady’s been cracking down on my arts and crafts time, that’s why I made this bracelet instead of sending you a paper dragon. Basically, I have to hide or mail away any new origami because apparently arts and crafts are a waste of child support’s time. That’s bullshit because I was under the impression that child support was wasting my time, AKA arts and crafts time.
When next you’re in town you’ve got to hit on these electronic cigarettes I smoke. They are the best thing ever. I can smoke ‘em wherever, whenever, however and I like the way they taste. Tasting good is usually a requirement for me to endorse something or someone. No smell and no more cigarette holes burned in my sheets/mattress/clothes/car upholstery/etc. Hooray for this happy day.
I don’t want to write too much because like I said earlier, I have no idea if this will even reach you. Since I steal most of my envelopes (pre-stamped, knuckle) I often hesitate to put a return address. Your address is clearly fictitious so I’ll be sure to include the return instructions this time. If you get this, let me know. Also, I’m mailing this on September 14th.
Regards,
Javier F. Nelson
P.S. – Don’t enjoy your friendship bracelet too much, try and sell it. I can send you a couple of these shits per week if we can bang a few bucks out of the whole ordeal. Keep it realer, negrodamus.
*The above letter was sent to a friend of mine in the armed services and returned to me. It’s being transcribed here because the post office is clearly incompetent. Some of the names have been changed but the places remain the same.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
legalize bluegrass
"The months roll past the love that you struck dead, did you love me only in my head?" -Doug Hopkins
If I were a bettin’ man, I’d bet everyone else in the world were eating two hot dick sandwiches right now. You and I are the only two able to successfully avoid the hot dick sandwich temptations. We (if you were around, asshole) could be the two folks that save the world from dick sandwich infestation.
You may be wondering why I wrote “legalize bluegrass” on the top of this correspondence. It’s because I wanted you to know there’s always a place for you in my heart (or bluegrass band) and for all time I don’t think you’ll be forgotten, at least by me. Additionally, if you’re ever out of work and need a bud, I’d learn to pick the banjo right proper like and you can “play the jug” in my bluegrass band. That’s just the kind of friend I am. If you fell on hard times, you couldn’t count on me to support you but you could count on me to voluntarily put myself in your shoes or a similar situation and then I’d naturally start a band to make money. In summary (or what I’m really trying to say) is that if you ever needed me (and I mean really needed me), I’d fabricate a situation where I seem needed back and I’d be able to help you out (hopefully) by giving you your fair share of our band’s take on any given night. I would never jump in your boat, but if yours were different than mine, I’d totally get in on that, heard?
I CANNOT SAY THE SAME FOR YOUR SELFISH ASS.
I realize it’d make more sense, if you fell on hard times, to simply say “hey bud, stay at my place” then keep my situation “as-is” or attempt to improve it, but honestly, I’ll tell you what. Sunset sensibility can eat two dozen dirty hot dick sandwiches. I’m me, and as such, capable of far more than the average asshole. But, whatever. I reckon that type of faithfulness doesn’t much matter anymore these days what with the kids on the old twitter and facebook and such.
What do I know about wooden pens? Only that they’re the bee’s knees and that the cat’s pajamas have a habit of finding their way to my bedroom floor. You’ll have that though, it happens.
REM (the band, not the sleep cycle) broke up not long ago and the nostalgic dipshit in me immediately ran to the old I-P-O-D* and it was all butterfly decal, rearview mirror, dogging the scene. Withdrawal, in disgust, is never the same as apathy. Do you remember when they were relevant? I remember when we were relevant and I suppose that’s a little more important.
Wooden pens. Bow ties. Typewriters. 35 millimeter cameras. The tribes-folk naturally dislike these things. Harder, smaller, faster, stronger are the cries of the zombie apocalypse of uniformity.
Swimming towards the open ocean instead of the closest boat. Live together and die alone. Damn near one hundred miles in the wrong direction and humming along full steam.
What news does our future hold? Grimness, destruction, withering and sadness until it’s all over and the sweet release of death sweeps us off our feet and beds us both. The next morning he’s gone and never calls.
Regards,
Javier F. Nelson
<3
If I were a bettin’ man, I’d bet everyone else in the world were eating two hot dick sandwiches right now. You and I are the only two able to successfully avoid the hot dick sandwich temptations. We (if you were around, asshole) could be the two folks that save the world from dick sandwich infestation.
You may be wondering why I wrote “legalize bluegrass” on the top of this correspondence. It’s because I wanted you to know there’s always a place for you in my heart (or bluegrass band) and for all time I don’t think you’ll be forgotten, at least by me. Additionally, if you’re ever out of work and need a bud, I’d learn to pick the banjo right proper like and you can “play the jug” in my bluegrass band. That’s just the kind of friend I am. If you fell on hard times, you couldn’t count on me to support you but you could count on me to voluntarily put myself in your shoes or a similar situation and then I’d naturally start a band to make money. In summary (or what I’m really trying to say) is that if you ever needed me (and I mean really needed me), I’d fabricate a situation where I seem needed back and I’d be able to help you out (hopefully) by giving you your fair share of our band’s take on any given night. I would never jump in your boat, but if yours were different than mine, I’d totally get in on that, heard?
I CANNOT SAY THE SAME FOR YOUR SELFISH ASS.
I realize it’d make more sense, if you fell on hard times, to simply say “hey bud, stay at my place” then keep my situation “as-is” or attempt to improve it, but honestly, I’ll tell you what. Sunset sensibility can eat two dozen dirty hot dick sandwiches. I’m me, and as such, capable of far more than the average asshole. But, whatever. I reckon that type of faithfulness doesn’t much matter anymore these days what with the kids on the old twitter and facebook and such.
What do I know about wooden pens? Only that they’re the bee’s knees and that the cat’s pajamas have a habit of finding their way to my bedroom floor. You’ll have that though, it happens.
REM (the band, not the sleep cycle) broke up not long ago and the nostalgic dipshit in me immediately ran to the old I-P-O-D* and it was all butterfly decal, rearview mirror, dogging the scene. Withdrawal, in disgust, is never the same as apathy. Do you remember when they were relevant? I remember when we were relevant and I suppose that’s a little more important.
Wooden pens. Bow ties. Typewriters. 35 millimeter cameras. The tribes-folk naturally dislike these things. Harder, smaller, faster, stronger are the cries of the zombie apocalypse of uniformity.
Swimming towards the open ocean instead of the closest boat. Live together and die alone. Damn near one hundred miles in the wrong direction and humming along full steam.
What news does our future hold? Grimness, destruction, withering and sadness until it’s all over and the sweet release of death sweeps us off our feet and beds us both. The next morning he’s gone and never calls.
Regards,
Javier F. Nelson
<3
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
simply killing time until i kill again.
“Yes, it was a dreadful thing to do, but she had very thick ankles.” – Oscar Wilde
This month is dragging ever so slowly and it’s already rife with unpleasantries and general nastiness all around. Nearly my entire second paycheck this month will be going to my mechanic. Naturally, when it rains, it pours and the perfect storm of car problems coalesced during one of the only pay periods I’d set aside for no bills, just fun. My entertainment budget for the second half of October was going to be out of this world! This basically meant I could afford to eat out, and not the free kind. Luckily, I’m a forward thinking individual and I purchased a used copy of the Sims 3 to pass the time. I got it on the cheap and my hopes were high, feel me?
I’ve got a few characters already established with full histories and futures and dreams and such, for instance, Hans. He takes taxis everywhere and attends classes whenever they’re available and once a week he goes to the local bookstore to collect his rent check and buy his books on the cheap. Hans has a teenage daughter and she’s pretty precocious. She sometimes gets out of hand when she stays out way past curfew but I have to cut her some slack because the time in that game is seventeen different kinds of confusing and 4 kinds of fucked up. Larissa does well in school and I’m pretty sure she’s banging the quarterback of her high school’s football team. She must have gotten that sluttiness from her mother, god rest her soul. As soon as Larissa is old enough I’m going to make her go to the police academy for a career in law enforcement.
Larissa hates Hans’s current beau. Her name is Bonnie and she is actually enrolled in criminology classes at the local institute for crime. She’s on a fast track to becoming a master thief and often brings me presents she stole during her work day. Last night she brought me a beautiful old-timey spin globe. I put it in our bedroom; it really ties the room together.
A lot of the free time I have in the game is spent flirting with the ladies around town because I’m working on Hans’s charisma skill. Aside from reading how-to books on the subject or attending a charisma class, flirting is the best way to gain more of those elusive skill points (well any type of friend making really, but Bonnie is at work like every day and Hans has a lot of free time to pursue these things). Whatever, don’t judge him.
These three characters form the basis of my Sims family but during my trial run I realized that it’s difficult to live on a single income in Sim world. Also, in Sim world, you’ve got to pay bills. My first venture was not very successful, I think I got evicted. Either eviction or I became hopelessly lost, so the second time around I “rented” the spare room to two business women; Tina and Trisha or something. They both started working on the same day in the coffee shop of the town’s largest corporation and have both received two promotions already! A promotion for them is a promotion for me because they’re not really “renting”, I’m basically just taking their paychecks and spending it on computers, books, music lessons and the constant redecorating I’ve been doing to the apartment. The extra income they bring in allows me the financial independence to go out and thoroughly enjoy the culture and sights and sounds of Sims Town. The additional money also allows Hans to pursue his own interests.
Hans, as it turns out, isn’t a bad fisherman. On his first trip out to the old pond by the cemetery (near the Crime Institute), he caught tons of gold fish and minnows and was able to sell them for like 60 dollars. I’ll be honest though, they’re obviously not “real” dollars but I’m not so sure they’re even called “dollars” in the game. Simeoleons or something, something fucking stupid that sounds like a lizard anyhow. Also, I say he’s not a bad fisherman but realistically I have no idea, I kind of forgot he was fishing for a while and started doing something else and only realized he had a full catch when the option to sell his catch came up later. Minnows and goldfish, heard?
Speaking of lizards, there’s a 6th house mate that’s about as useless as tits on a bull. This bitch just sits around the house all day cock-blocking Hans in the living room because she never leaves. From what I can tell she just lounges around all day and reads books about gardening but there’s no garden anywhere to be found. No fresh fruits, no fresh vegetables, just a fresh bitch loafing around the house. I thought she was all right for the first couple of days because her incessant reading was quickly increasing her gardening abilities while Hans was able to go out and be a man about town, strutting his stuff and hollering at them Sim sluts. I figured while Hans was about town, Gretchen would be somewhere planting and weeding and watering and working hard to offset the cost of some of the groceries. Well, after I had Hans take a few classes in handymannery and he subsequently began spending more time around the house improving things and fixing the perpetually leaking toilet, I realized that bitch did nothing but watch television, sleep and read her fucking gardening books. Gretchen is the absolute worst kind of day laborer/gardener though, to her credit, the dishes, sink and table that Hans always leaves his dirty dishes on are always cleaned up whenever he gets home from a hard day exploring Sim town and pimpin bitches. Regardless, the point is that this Gretchen had better get some act-right or I’m going to murder her and throw her in the pond by the cemetery. If that’s impossible then I will have Hans make her cry.
The two business ladies that live with the gang are always dressed very similar and I’ll be the first to admit I constantly get them confused and I’m simply awful trying to differentiate between alliterative names, let alone a pair of computer game girls that dress alike and live in the same computer game house. The point I’m getting to here is that you can learn a lot from the Sims. When Bonnie the criminal wasn’t home, Hans would naturally hit on whatever women were around, for the charisma points, obviously. Well, it wasn’t just one of the business ladies, but both, that took a fancy to Hans and developed some amorous feelings that were totally unreciprocated, unless he was bored. One of the T-girls (I laughed out loud when I typed that) slapped Hans right in the face because he was making out with the criminal broad in the kitchen one night. The T-girls were chatting amongst themselves nearby and Larissa was doing something at the table and the next thing I know there’s all kinds of red things blinking over one of the T-girls’ heads and then the game actually made me agree to “Get Slapped” and boy howdy! What a slap. Whichever of those bitches slapped Hans is a right proper cunt because it’s not like he asked anyone to “Go Steady”. Catty bitches.
OH! My first girlfriend died. I met her the first day when there were all manner of achievements to be had by attempting to bed the find young lady. Her name was Kara or Tara and she lived entirely too far away for Hans to visit so I would page her to meet him at various places but since she lived so far away it seemed to take too long and Hans would invariably start chatting up someone else while waiting for her to arrive, naturally. She was only really around a couple of times because Hans moves quickly and never lingers too long. In his native land, Hans was always told that if you linger too long people will begin to think of you as a venereal disease. It’s an old Danish saying and apparently some of its gusto is lost in translation. “Hurdy burdy durdy yurdle” is the phrase in the original Dutch. Anyways, Tara or Kara was a hippy chick and I think she was only interested in Hans because he took music lessons and they met outside of the art gallery. Art-grubbing whore.
I’m largely uninitiated in the world of Sims and my initial reaction is one of fascination and wanderlust and infinite possibilities. I hope someday Hans will marry the world’s greatest criminal and she’ll steal him stuff like the actual statue of liberty instead of a model she swiped from the check-out line at the local grocery store. Hans’s child, Larissa, will hopefully become a decorated police officer only to fall from grace and into the cantankerous embrace of prostitution and a life on the mean streets of Sim town. The gardener will hopefully get off her lazy ass and grow some fucking tomatoes or I’ll send her to the army. There’s a military career choice and she’ll soar to new heights of greatness in the armed services only to fall on hard times and have to sell fish for a living down by the docks. Hans, of course, will continue his life of leisure and maybe someday become a prolific writer the likes of which the Sim world has never seen. Apparently he’ll be a science fiction writer though because it seems to pay the best and that’s where all the real royalties money lies.
Oh, I also built a moat (of sorts) around the house because some fucker stole my couch in the middle of the night. Once I figure out how to build a drawbridge that shit won’t ever happen again. Also, the Sims is racist because the dude that stole the TV was definitely black. Also, I’m merely stereotyping when I build a moat for protection because black people can’t swim.
This month is dragging ever so slowly and it’s already rife with unpleasantries and general nastiness all around. Nearly my entire second paycheck this month will be going to my mechanic. Naturally, when it rains, it pours and the perfect storm of car problems coalesced during one of the only pay periods I’d set aside for no bills, just fun. My entertainment budget for the second half of October was going to be out of this world! This basically meant I could afford to eat out, and not the free kind. Luckily, I’m a forward thinking individual and I purchased a used copy of the Sims 3 to pass the time. I got it on the cheap and my hopes were high, feel me?
I’ve got a few characters already established with full histories and futures and dreams and such, for instance, Hans. He takes taxis everywhere and attends classes whenever they’re available and once a week he goes to the local bookstore to collect his rent check and buy his books on the cheap. Hans has a teenage daughter and she’s pretty precocious. She sometimes gets out of hand when she stays out way past curfew but I have to cut her some slack because the time in that game is seventeen different kinds of confusing and 4 kinds of fucked up. Larissa does well in school and I’m pretty sure she’s banging the quarterback of her high school’s football team. She must have gotten that sluttiness from her mother, god rest her soul. As soon as Larissa is old enough I’m going to make her go to the police academy for a career in law enforcement.
Larissa hates Hans’s current beau. Her name is Bonnie and she is actually enrolled in criminology classes at the local institute for crime. She’s on a fast track to becoming a master thief and often brings me presents she stole during her work day. Last night she brought me a beautiful old-timey spin globe. I put it in our bedroom; it really ties the room together.
A lot of the free time I have in the game is spent flirting with the ladies around town because I’m working on Hans’s charisma skill. Aside from reading how-to books on the subject or attending a charisma class, flirting is the best way to gain more of those elusive skill points (well any type of friend making really, but Bonnie is at work like every day and Hans has a lot of free time to pursue these things). Whatever, don’t judge him.
These three characters form the basis of my Sims family but during my trial run I realized that it’s difficult to live on a single income in Sim world. Also, in Sim world, you’ve got to pay bills. My first venture was not very successful, I think I got evicted. Either eviction or I became hopelessly lost, so the second time around I “rented” the spare room to two business women; Tina and Trisha or something. They both started working on the same day in the coffee shop of the town’s largest corporation and have both received two promotions already! A promotion for them is a promotion for me because they’re not really “renting”, I’m basically just taking their paychecks and spending it on computers, books, music lessons and the constant redecorating I’ve been doing to the apartment. The extra income they bring in allows me the financial independence to go out and thoroughly enjoy the culture and sights and sounds of Sims Town. The additional money also allows Hans to pursue his own interests.
Hans, as it turns out, isn’t a bad fisherman. On his first trip out to the old pond by the cemetery (near the Crime Institute), he caught tons of gold fish and minnows and was able to sell them for like 60 dollars. I’ll be honest though, they’re obviously not “real” dollars but I’m not so sure they’re even called “dollars” in the game. Simeoleons or something, something fucking stupid that sounds like a lizard anyhow. Also, I say he’s not a bad fisherman but realistically I have no idea, I kind of forgot he was fishing for a while and started doing something else and only realized he had a full catch when the option to sell his catch came up later. Minnows and goldfish, heard?
Speaking of lizards, there’s a 6th house mate that’s about as useless as tits on a bull. This bitch just sits around the house all day cock-blocking Hans in the living room because she never leaves. From what I can tell she just lounges around all day and reads books about gardening but there’s no garden anywhere to be found. No fresh fruits, no fresh vegetables, just a fresh bitch loafing around the house. I thought she was all right for the first couple of days because her incessant reading was quickly increasing her gardening abilities while Hans was able to go out and be a man about town, strutting his stuff and hollering at them Sim sluts. I figured while Hans was about town, Gretchen would be somewhere planting and weeding and watering and working hard to offset the cost of some of the groceries. Well, after I had Hans take a few classes in handymannery and he subsequently began spending more time around the house improving things and fixing the perpetually leaking toilet, I realized that bitch did nothing but watch television, sleep and read her fucking gardening books. Gretchen is the absolute worst kind of day laborer/gardener though, to her credit, the dishes, sink and table that Hans always leaves his dirty dishes on are always cleaned up whenever he gets home from a hard day exploring Sim town and pimpin bitches. Regardless, the point is that this Gretchen had better get some act-right or I’m going to murder her and throw her in the pond by the cemetery. If that’s impossible then I will have Hans make her cry.
The two business ladies that live with the gang are always dressed very similar and I’ll be the first to admit I constantly get them confused and I’m simply awful trying to differentiate between alliterative names, let alone a pair of computer game girls that dress alike and live in the same computer game house. The point I’m getting to here is that you can learn a lot from the Sims. When Bonnie the criminal wasn’t home, Hans would naturally hit on whatever women were around, for the charisma points, obviously. Well, it wasn’t just one of the business ladies, but both, that took a fancy to Hans and developed some amorous feelings that were totally unreciprocated, unless he was bored. One of the T-girls (I laughed out loud when I typed that) slapped Hans right in the face because he was making out with the criminal broad in the kitchen one night. The T-girls were chatting amongst themselves nearby and Larissa was doing something at the table and the next thing I know there’s all kinds of red things blinking over one of the T-girls’ heads and then the game actually made me agree to “Get Slapped” and boy howdy! What a slap. Whichever of those bitches slapped Hans is a right proper cunt because it’s not like he asked anyone to “Go Steady”. Catty bitches.
OH! My first girlfriend died. I met her the first day when there were all manner of achievements to be had by attempting to bed the find young lady. Her name was Kara or Tara and she lived entirely too far away for Hans to visit so I would page her to meet him at various places but since she lived so far away it seemed to take too long and Hans would invariably start chatting up someone else while waiting for her to arrive, naturally. She was only really around a couple of times because Hans moves quickly and never lingers too long. In his native land, Hans was always told that if you linger too long people will begin to think of you as a venereal disease. It’s an old Danish saying and apparently some of its gusto is lost in translation. “Hurdy burdy durdy yurdle” is the phrase in the original Dutch. Anyways, Tara or Kara was a hippy chick and I think she was only interested in Hans because he took music lessons and they met outside of the art gallery. Art-grubbing whore.
I’m largely uninitiated in the world of Sims and my initial reaction is one of fascination and wanderlust and infinite possibilities. I hope someday Hans will marry the world’s greatest criminal and she’ll steal him stuff like the actual statue of liberty instead of a model she swiped from the check-out line at the local grocery store. Hans’s child, Larissa, will hopefully become a decorated police officer only to fall from grace and into the cantankerous embrace of prostitution and a life on the mean streets of Sim town. The gardener will hopefully get off her lazy ass and grow some fucking tomatoes or I’ll send her to the army. There’s a military career choice and she’ll soar to new heights of greatness in the armed services only to fall on hard times and have to sell fish for a living down by the docks. Hans, of course, will continue his life of leisure and maybe someday become a prolific writer the likes of which the Sim world has never seen. Apparently he’ll be a science fiction writer though because it seems to pay the best and that’s where all the real royalties money lies.
Oh, I also built a moat (of sorts) around the house because some fucker stole my couch in the middle of the night. Once I figure out how to build a drawbridge that shit won’t ever happen again. Also, the Sims is racist because the dude that stole the TV was definitely black. Also, I’m merely stereotyping when I build a moat for protection because black people can’t swim.
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