PLEH!!!

Joe Rodgers


In a spree of excellence over the weekend
Mayet’s corduroy, one wale of a jacket
(its something we all crave)
silenced the stereotypes.
But doses higher than 15mg per day
(looks that cool girls will get in about a half a second)
should not be taken due to increased risk
of serious stomach and intestinal problems.

He had expanded his family’s vast business
As a distributor of coca-cola
Because real world problems
Need real world solutions.

His Mother, the ultimate Manhattainite hostess,
Without breaking stride or making eye contact,
Said to him “your fly is open” and
Continued on her way.
If the French can lie with a straight face
The British can pull your pants down.

Memories and anger resurface near middle age
(in sports its called controlling the clock)
but the timeline provided also changed
(or wasting you life getting to the next level of your career).

It is not the cold stare
You see looking at the pyramids
Because the love of conspiracy theories in Egypt
Has not been neglected.

It’s pocketbooks.

We can’t go on like this.

In the beginning there were magic buses
Sweet organza blouses,
Deceptively light teacup skirts,
A ball with an inflatable rubber sky.

How does he get through it? Carpe Diem-
A lurid example of failed genius.
They had swallowed a wasp
And don’t meet his conceptual dreams.

Nothing is sacred.

He soon found himself in shackles
On a predawn flight to rural Louisiana
Awaiting beer for the babe
Supporting education while on vacation.
It’s called gentrification.

All talk and no action
They deliver the same power.
But if they stand still long enough,
Curious minds,
They can see the face of time.

Mammals and much

After posting something self-deprecating on my away message, Reuben responded with this:
(From Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy)

On the planet Earth, man had always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins because he had achieved so much - the wheel, New York, wars and so on - whilst all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having a good time. But conversely, the dolphins had always believed that they were far more intelligent than man - for precisely the same reasons.

I woke up the other day, got out my messenger bag, put a note book in it, put my sunglasses on my head and a FIJI bottle in my hand, plugged my ears with my iPod and walked around pretending to be a student. Everytime i thought of that, i put the glasses over my eyes to hide this pathetic sadness leaking all over my face.

I am a guilt ridden person. It's what grandmothers and Catholicism does to a person. It's also what immense love for too many people does to a person. I have been letting myself choke on feeling guilty about having fun, about being happy for the first time in a long time. Why does happiness, solely in the grandeur of success override so many other small things.

Ah, but you see, its my trouble, its my head. Ferk (you know, Mr. Ferkaluk, from AAS, father mentor coach to a group of tremendous swimmers, feared by all others) told me once that i have a case of two-footitus. Give me a 12 foot boat and all i want is a 14fter. This is true. I dont know how to get over it.

Career fair was a week ago tuesday. Stiens was packed. I took care of a table of 14 from Earnst and Young; all babies, fresh grads. Their bill was 445$. My tip was 65$. I made 100$ that night sweating a hole in the back of my shirt. The thing i couldn't get over was how these kids, sitting here and chugging down liquor and beer on the company's credit, punching numbers and keeping this arbitrary system flowing like water, are thought of as "successful". Sure, they worked hard, they graduated, they wear suits. I can't say that i am any of those things, but wow, how funny. If youve ever worked in the restaurant biz, you understand the exquisite display of psychotic submission in every employee. Stress. Lovely stress. For 100 bucks. And you're damn happy about that.

Maybe its another case of the tortoise and the hare. The slow guy ends up winning. Meredith ends up with the job of her dreams and is honest to god satisfied with it until the day she crokes. The other fuzzy bunnies move too quick without thinking and end up stuck. Why must i compare myself to these hares? Because the hares will be together and meredith will move like honey all alone.

I'm scared and excited all at the same time.
So i should probably make something happen really soon.
Ready set bang.

Artesian? Doesn't that mean its from Artesia?

Yes, right next to Antfartica. Artesian, for all you precious FIJI drinkers, is a type of “well” that does not need to be pumped. The angle of the strata causes pressure so that the water is extracted without pumping, kind of like Old Faithful except not because that is a geyser and its all actually very different, but I thought of this picture anyway.

Artesian? My brain?

Yes, how natural.
Kind of like PMS. And gin. All natural.

I woke up at 2:30. I walked upstairs. I went in the bathroom and washed my face. Then I fell on the floor and cried in that choking, rocking cry manner that has no real tears which makes it all worse. Faker.

Why?
Could have been just another Monday.
The Steinkeller kids do karaoke on Monday nights. That’s at Fisrt Street or Brick Run or whatever the hell have you. I’ll have a double gin and tonic for 2.75 please.
The night was fun.
Kinda.
Alyson, another of my fav SK co-workers, sees bob at Stadium a few hours earlier. Wait, im sorry, let me rephrase that. She hears his voice from across a crowded bar the moment he walks in. She turns and there he is, wearing a t-shirt she bought him for his birthday.
Bob is an asshole. Bob says and does terrible things to Alyson, the stories are endless. Bob even hits Alyson. Bob and Alyson were dating for three years. Bob is now Alyson’s ex-boyfriend. He broke up with her. Never really explained why. Never really said anything constructive. He’s now engaged to an ugly fat girl he’s dated for four months.
Alyson had five shots after Bob walked into that bar. Alyson, emotions, and drinking mix as well as toothpaste and tarter sauce on a piece of chocolate cake.
Alyson does not understand how someone you love, and supposedly loves you, can be such an asshole, she sputters, through real, wet tears. We are upstairs @ FR/BS because we went to go find Nick, her new bartender love. He’s not working. Now we are here.
She wants to be in love. I tell her this has come up in my conversations quite a few times lately.
There is nothing worse than seeing a beautiful person, amazingly smart and talented and fun, crumble into self-worthlessness because an asshole doesn’t think. I wonder why she liked him in the first place. I’ve asked her before, she hasn’t been able to get back to me with an answer.
She needs, as she stated before, a dry cleaning service for her head.
I put it down on blueprints this morning. Anyone that wants service will get it for free.
Because no one should be stained by an asshole.
Easier said than done.

Alyson went home.

I took care of some drunk girl in the bathroom with her head on the toilet and her thong hanging out of her pants. It was her birthday. She asked, in that quintessential blonde Miami chippie voice, “can someone come talk to me? Can you come talk to me please?” Which was cute. In a good way.

Is caring effortless? Yes. Just don’t expect anything in return.

They never played my song.

We left.
We went to Reuben’s. Shane threw a table at this kid. We talked for a long time after that. I’m not yelling at you, I just want to understand how your brain works. We talked, I got through to him.
Shane, who’s gonna take care of you. Stop hiding it, stop hiding. You take care of everyone else, someones gotta take care of you. He says no. He hides.


Then I came inside and I sat on the toilet. I put my hands over my head.
And said what I wrote on my last post after I couldn’t remember a single thing that Shane had just said to me.

I just took a very long break looking up green parrot bars and tiki sheek hotels in Key West. It’s September, but march is right around the corner.

I have other things to say, ill say them later.

One last shout out. Doug Linn made my whole entire evening.
Go avocados, perfect children, and mama Meredith.
That’s right, go me.
I rule.

Goodnite.

alien post

and what you think on the toilet means a magazine

after healing a broken heart against an asshole
after feeling so sick i cant continue
after seeing my closest never helping the situation they've gotten into

you've got to better than this
you've got to better than this
you've got to better than this
you've got to better than this
you've got to better than this
you've got to better than this
you've got to better than this
you've got to better than this
you've got to better than this
you've got to better than this
you've got to better than this
you've got to better than this
you've got to better than this
you've got to better than this
you've got to better than this
you've got to better than this
you've got to better than this
you've got to better than this


and its mine?
yes.
we've got to.

Martha my sour twist faced hero

I’m watching that TV movie about Martha Stewart and I’m identifying. I might lose it one day and if I do, im gonna act just like Martha Stewart.
No, I’m not talking about marriage silly.

It’s been a long weekend and I have nothing intelligent to say.

open your eyes

You cross boundaries for your art, for the things that touch you.
Sometimes you go too far without knowing it.
Because you’re in it.

Vanilla Sky.
Dreams. The promise. The life.
I feel like a little bunny cartoon character. All wide eyed and jumping around. Vacant and brilliant.
I’m waiting for that bunny to get a bloody bullet in the back of the head.

Drip drip.
Im lovestruck. Bleeding with the love of life and the desire to make the love something real.
Why am I so coldhearted.
Coffee is good when its hot. Order it, taste it once, then let it sit.
My bullet is a cold cup of coffee.

You will never know
The exquisite pain
Of the guy who goes home alone.
Because without bitter, baby
The sweet aint as sweet.

anxious to early....but hurry

Before I begin cuz I cant, im gonna take notes.


I cant.
James begins and is another story.

I copied someones’ life today.
Not even close to I dig their style
Even the farthest from
Imitation is a form of flattery

I wanted her words so badly
I talked to her to remind her what she’s worth
But I am the best of the eyes

Don’t demand something
When you place it on random

But be surprised when you get
The good shit.

Since now, themes have become everday
Circumstances.
Not lacking, but loving.
I remembered Neely’s strange printer
Has a photocopier.
Talk about something to go home to
Your whole night relived
And the documents youll always wish you had
Reminding you in the morning
What did you do?

You make me dance on random
I fell down the stairs tonight, but i
Forgiving myself
Only because
I knew how to act alone when you weren’t around.

some swans a swimming

Tooooooooo much music makes the mind go far out! (3GB neu!)

Lets start with my notes, because I take them on Guest Checks.

Brian, my favorite savant employee at Stein’s says:

Go on Road Trip
Write Journal
Entries about trip
Based on any ideas.
That arrive – from
Farcical to senor’s
On subjects either tangent or relevant

TOUR THE WORLD
MIXING STORY w/
CREATIVE WRITING

Honestly, I can’t read his writing on the Senor’s part, but it makes sense to me, funny. What I was really asking him to write down was

Tennessee Williams – the glass menagerie

If I could recall the real quote, irony would be broken, or solidified. Either way, ill never know the difference.

This is all from memory.

Sufjan Stevens came out tonight in brass high school band flare. Since im from there, I can say fighting illini cheerleading uniforms, but I shouldn’t. His opener was a series of cheers, a pep rally presentation of all the fifty states that he has discovered. I wish I could repeat the witty things he said about the places he’s been to, but I don’t have ears, I have eyes.

(Side note….try to create your perfect sensual being from the people you know….the best adapted eyes, ears, taste, touch, smell you know. Think about those people. Then really think about them.)

But what my ears did catch was basically
GO ON AN ADVENTURE AND WRITE/SING/TALK/SHARE
What you feel.
Cuz we do, chemicals beside. Are tears chemicals? Cuz he moved me to cry.

But we wont. We’ll talk about Sufjan and his Illinoismakers instead.
Who writes god blessed albums about the 50 states? What a freaking folk weirdo.
Ever know when you take a breath and think about how fucking long its been since you’ve had a hair cut, or a talk with your sibling, or a good fish sandwich? When you get these things, you have a moment to judge time. Well what the fuck were you thinking about between then and now? Between a week ago and now? Between now and now????
A whole shit bucket in an outdoor potty load, that’s what. Retrace me back to my entry on my experience with “What the Bleep do We Know???” That’s thought. Don’t think about it. Exactly.
So that’s my point. Who is the man that can travel and be “all part of the act” for a career and still be so focused to create tracks about the places he breathes for only a moment?
Sufjan Stevens.
That’s Su-Fee-On Stevens and that’s who.

Neely, my housemate and I were talking about Ohio geography. That’s the cool thing about going to a school in another state – you’re not required by native custom to know where things are. There is, however, a however. One, that Neely knows only the greater part of southern Ohio, and second, that I don't know jack shit about the Chicagoland area. Never have, never will. Yes, the two areas are greatly diverse: Socio-economico-ecologico-suchoandsoscio---------------------------------
But my concern is why, since one has told me why holds the greatest potential.
Brian, once again is my favorite person.

The night he told me to do what I stated above on my guest check, we got our conversation started on his minor in some kinda distribution supply chain management deal. (this was before I told him journalism wasn’t for me because I wasn’t confident in myself to get and keep the straight facts).
His minor is a minor factor in my point. The kid whips out (once again) the beloved guest check and draws me a diagram. As he is drawing out 3 of 12 semi trucks to display distribution techniques, I say to him
“Brian, you either need to have children, or you need to be a professor at some point in your life.”
He replies that both of his parents were professors.
Funny.
I know I should be concerned about people not getting an education at ALL, but they will be my concern after I have to secure my own. My concern at the moment is getting people in college to get the most out of their education NOW. Ive always felt the lack of creativity in the classroom. I mean, c’mon, how many freaking times have you heard the term “visual learner”????? Besides that, how many smart people have you met that aren’t arrogant of their rocker? Point beside, if you want to learn something, and be part of the discussion without judgments or negative repercussions, Brian is the person to talk to. He works at Steinkeller, mostly on the weekend, and as a doorman, is usually bored and thirsting for conversation.
Please visit, he's an excellent teacher and knows, as far as i'm concerned, everything.

O shit, that’s right, back to my Stevens. Geography lessons through music. I’m willing to devote the next week of my music ambitions to reading the lyrics to the new album and learning about my state the way he sees it. This is creative motivation. You might compare it to celebrity influence but with all that bullshit taken away. So, don’t compare it at all. Ive exhausted this topic.
I’m going to look next on my list and I fear its about love and drumbeats because I remember (kinda) taking them.

The Man of Metropolis Steals O

The chorus:
Only a steel band
Came to recover
If he had run from gold, carry over

We celebrate ourselves to each other
We have a lot to give one another

Forgive me for me ignorance if it's in place. a.) for not knowing anything historical related to gold in southern illiinois b.) for not having the hard copy album leaf of this beloved artists that I am speaking of so belovedly.

My stupidity will be perhaps shortlived for the person whom gives the point will only understand. Steve writes:
“I’m in love with everyone I meet”
id like to connect the lines and hide my potential insecurity by saying that yes, we do.

Sufjan wears addidas under his orange track pants that I could have stolen tonight but didn’t.
His encore was in black, gold toe socks that curled under his toes when he sang
To Be Alone With You
The girls in the front row sang to be alone with me…
After the show we still questioned his sexuality.
Sufjan did not come out to sign autographs or answer questions.
Sexuality is a mystery to me too, my love.

I’m nearing the end of my notes which means we were in the car and my iPod was in my lap and im playing all the ones that make my heart break. I was supposed to be in love for this show which means I was out of control, which is never fun.
Witch fun.
I was supposed to mention this factor earlier for sake of concealment of certain thoughts. Im honest but never that honest.

Even in Chicago, he let the drums go numb. The trumpet's tempo slowed. He was alone.
If the heartbeat is the drums
And the lone music has less drums
Does lone have less heartbeat?
Or does it really just stop?
Alone.

How do you fall in love entirely with something that is not human?
I did tonight. I always have. I’ve just never known its where I was.

Still, can you combine passion, as in passion for life, as in sufjan’s opening song and thus what spiraled out in my mind…………………………..
With passion?
With love?

I’ve made a lot of mistakes.

I went to Stein’s after the concert to visit my family.
When I left, a beige jeep Cherokee was playing Eric Prydz “Call on Me”

I’m bartending tomorrow from 4-10. I’m training and my downfall is I overpour.

how well ShE speaks

life, how dare i imagine, is not so simple

let me present the questions before i lose them in the answers
if the truth is the whole then is it legitimate to desire the whole in the one we love? or are we dreaming.
is there really a complete person....or are we just craving ourselves personified?
why do we feel guilty about being perceived well by others?
why do we put ourselves in uncomfortable situations when we are positive that even before the occur they will indeed be uncomfortable?
why do we discuss foreign issues when in the end, we're discussing issues only personal to ourselves?

maybe i should just leave it at the questions and keep context out of the response. im tired, and craved drinks in good company. these are the last circumstances i wish upon myself in face of these extremely important questions. i know for certain that three people read this...all of you are capable of designing thoughts for the presented argument. thus so, here is my final question.

is caring effortless?

lets see if you think twice.