February 2012
Ryan Adams, To Be Young (Is To Be Sad, Is To Be...
Anonymous asked: Favorite Whiskey?
Anonymous asked: you make me wanna have my period all over yr floor.
Anonymous asked: do you have a knife? 'cause I wanna cut yr dick off.
SMASH DRINKING GAME, FUCK!
Are you watching SMASH? You should be watching SMASH. Correction, you should be watching SMASH if you like weird, trashy, sensationalized TV about musical theater. Or drugs. Anyway, I’ll catch you up: Katherine McSMASH is hot and trying to make it on Broadway but Ivy is hot too and experienced and totally SMASHING the director of a musical being written by Debra Messing and some other guy...
Pangea, River
Lookin’ at the river...
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Interview With Wesley Carls
AH: OK, before we get into this let's just clear a couple things up.
WC: Sure, sure.
AH: This is your last day on Earth and you're publishing a book.
WC: Correct.
AH: I'm sure my audience is a little confused as to who you are.
WC: Well, I'm a historical figure. I am a fire. I am every element bottled into flesh and razor wire. I am the band Garbage. I am garbage.
AH: I love when you answer my questions like an asshole.
WC: Sarcasm is for the worms.
AH: Consider me a dirt-mouth, then.
WC: They're really wondering if I am you and if you are me, right?
AH: Right. So, which is it? You're me, aren't you?
WC: Yes.
AH: OK.
WC: And no.
AH: Jesus.
WC: And no! Tra! Tra! La, la la!
AH: I'm far too hungover for this.
WC: Who'se the Wesley now!
AH: Let's get back on track.
WC: (line of cocaine!)
AH: (coffee)
WC: Sure, sure.
AH: Your book...
WC: Yes! I have written a tome!
AH: A book.
WC: It is about the trials and tribulations of one French Stuart.
AH: No it is not.
WC: You're a slippery one.
AH: Your new book is called "Selected Wind Patterns (A.D.)", and is basically just a bunch of weird lines. Most of us are wondering, like, what the fuck?
WC: Can we go on the record?
AH: Um...
WC: You see, I was thinking about suicide. A lot.
AH: Pretty normal.
WC: Is it?
AH: For us.
WC: Right, right. For you. For me. For me.
AH: Should I be worried?
WC: Of course! Of course you should! Suicide is not painless.
AH: I couldn't watch M*A*S*H for years because of that.
WC: And now we love it.
AH: True. So, suicide...
WC: Yes. The lovely press of death. Maybe that's a better title...
AH: Wes.
WC: Right, sorry. It wasn't morbid. I just kept thinking about it as a natural step. The following commercial interruption is brought to you by Toys R Us. So on, so forth. It was not violence, I tell you.
AH: And the wind patterns?
WC: Well, knowing how 'frowned' upon it is, and fearing the actual blade, each time the thought crossed my mind I would sketch the current wind pattern.
AH: Why?
WC: To remind myself that I am still a product of this Earth and that I am malleable and that I, for all, am for the advocacy of Mellow Yellow!
AH: (line of cocaine)
WC: (gallon of hockey pucks)
AH: The real question is, are you going to do it?
WC: When the wind stops.
AH: Where can our fair viewers buy your book?
WC: It is currently being sold at my garage sale. It is the only item for sale and there is only one copy.
AH: Why would anyone want it?
WC: People like proof of life.
AH: Even when you're dead?
WC: Especially.
AH: This is depressing.
WC: We're all going to die, Alan.
AH: But we don't have to.
WC: Oh yes. Yes we do.
AH: Why?
WC: Do you think this life is free? We all have to pay for our time.
AH: Time is money.
WC: Money is nothing.
AH: So.
WC: Right. Pony up, your tab is long and overdue. Nothing is free.
AH: Ha! Ha, ha!
WC: Have a ba-na-na. Now,
AH: Every-body!
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Gayngs, The Gaudy Side of Town
This morning I flicked a tiny piece of crumpled paper off of a counter and it landed directly into a trash can some distance away. In an attempt to humble myself and make sure I don’t get a big ‘head’ about things, in an attempt to stay ‘grounded’ as they say, here is a list of things that make me less than the man who flicked a tiny piece of crumpled paper off of a...
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There's a few.
Shrevie: OK, now ask me what's on the flip side.
Beth: Why?
Shrevie: Just, just ask me what's on the flip side, OK?
Beth: What is on the flip side?
Shrevie: "Hey Hey Hey Hey" 1958, Specialty Records.
Beth: ...
Shrevie: You see. You don't ask me things like that, do you? No! You never ask me, "What's on the flip side?"
Beth: No. Because I don't give a shit. Shrevie, who cares about what's on the flip side of a record?
Shrevie: I do! Every one of my records means something! The label, the producer, the year it was made. Who was copying whose style... who's expanding on that, don't you understand? When I listen to my records they take me back to certain points in my life, OK? Just don't touch my records. Ever.
Beth: ...
Shrevie: You. The first time I met you? Modell's sister's high school graduation party, right? 1955. And "Ain't That A Shame" was playing when I walked in the door.
Otis Redding, These Arms Of Mine
YEAH YEAH YEAH...
I’m working on some Pound Puppies pitches and the brand wants more stories about little girls, among other things they want more of, so I have them written down on my notepad. To remind myself, since I tend to write for boys when it comes to this stuff, I wrote “LITTLE GIRLS” in capital letters and circled it a couple of times. So, the real question, guy who is nosily looking at...
69 Ways To Plz Yr Man
Tell him you’re not pregnant.
Do the Watusi.
Touch it.
Get the net.
Hold a hand.
Stack your change neatly.
Color coordination.
Taco Bell.
Timely texting.
Natalie Wood impersonations.
Try a little tenderness.
Hiya.
Whiskey at noon.
Sideways knees under knits.
Use your turn signals.
Excuse for a thigh.
Mutual disdain.
Subscribe to GOOP.
Laugh way too loud (sic).
...
Anonymous asked: Why are you single?
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LLL: Shootout At Hotel Tampico →
lookedlikelaughing:
(my neck knows knuckles- do your fingers remember the grip like a wedding wring imprint and later with soaked regret coughed you a reprint of a sulking pulse? i’m sure you put me to paper.)
Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day and Looked Like Laughing can help with all of your bitter, sappy, unrequited needs! I hope you enjoy this latest VD poem but I really doubt it can...
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Dear Ian M.,
Well, this is awkward, Ian! My phone was sitting under my thigh while my friend and I were watching last night’s DVRd Saturday Night Live. Somehow, I dialed your number. Isn’t that a weird thing? Somehow, SOMEHOW, my thigh pressed a 1 and then a correct area code, and then seven numbers that happened to be YOUR number. That’s wild, Ian! That’s insane! And unless my phone is...
Pavement, Fin (Peel Session, Aug 21, 1997)
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