Someone find a heart.
Put it on ice, make sure it still beats.
Send it overnight.
Accross the oceans, above the peaks.
Send it right to me.
Somehow make it fit, modify if needed.
Push the blood through.
Pull it back, clean it up nice and pure.
So it flows bright red.
**birthday coming up for your honey.
She's a young looking sweetie, never know what to get her. She says she has everything she wants. I'm soaking some lima beans, gonna cook em low all night. Eat em after church with some cornbread. Reminds me to get some slab bacon this morning. She loves lima beans.
**her birthday's next week?
Yep, we give the birthday its full respect in my family, celebrating the days before and after. My daughters and wife treat me like a king when my week comes. Usually, they get me a 6-pack of Franconia Dunkel and a trip to the foot massage place.
**everybody nice to each other.
In a sense, yes. Our love for each other rages, in all ways. The emotional extremes are moderated over time, forgiveness is required. The traits are raw with the young. Which adds spirit and woe alike. The brain does learn from this. Intellect is built over time. Even forgetting in the older years adds to the joy of life. Blissfully oblivious.
**any other summer plans?
The Redneck Riviera in the middle of August. White sands, seafood, and the ocean noises. Rum drinks and wine. Hurricane season for the Florida panhandle, but we've never seen one. Narrowly missed the Baton Rouge flood driving back to Texas last year. Like the whole Louisiana sky just collapsed and became water. Started northwest just in time, blind driving diagonally up the state. Sweet Shreveport was never so sweet. The sun appeared right before night, and Texas was dry. Wrote this the next day, after the adrenaline wore off...
the flood stalled and kept flooding. heavy water going. these are lowlands to begin with. down from the delta, where the ocean has found its way in, where swamps are always wet, where it's muddy. a corvette spin, a rocking truckload, and double tow setup. a few of the hazards. escaped to the north, through Alexandria and on to Texas. these roads must be lifted, put the houses on stilts.
**that must'a been something.
Yep. Wild man, wild.
**so, what now?
Need to get rid of this crud, the western dust and hot air of summer heat got me wheezing. Should visit the MinuteClinic for some meds. Get the loopy cough syrup. The one with codein, the only drug that works. Usually try to sleep the sick away.
**good luck, get some rest, take some time, chill.
You can make a name for anything.
Call it green or verde.
Regardless of what is real.
*Talk is all.
The obvious can be overlooked.
And everything goes with it.
Stand in line.
We are what we say.
Proven examples of sincerity.
It has been declared.
But only in our tricked minds.
Only to a point.
The ability to convince ourselves.
And celebrate our boldness.
It's not personal.
But we should make it personal.
*The boogieman boogies like a fake.
Like instructions from a boogieman book.
Plastic and static.
Authentic as a robot.
Smiling and malfunctioning.
And blaming things on others.
Getting to the bottom.
So we get Fareed's take.
No reality, only judgment, only smugness.
Stroke the protest, it was the Don's fault.
The Polish have been done dirty again.
The effect, completely fatal to the world.
Sebastian Junger has the thoughts.
We are a tribe.
NaNeeNaNeeBooBoo ain't helpful.
Entire network strategies built upon it.
Central to party tactics.
The future is much more important.
We have been entertained enough.
Fame is not natural.
It causes isolation.
Which is not our natural way of being.
The reporters are afflicted with artificial turbulence disease.
Perhaps it's the deadlines, or the intellectual peer pressure.
True geniuses are conformists, evidently.
All you writers in the lands keep writing.
About the reality of love, suffering, and love again.
Document the scene, give it your take.
Fareed looks nervous.
The words get out.
Too consumed, too preoccupied.
These ruts, these guts, these routines.
Just a hobo man.
No need for a Benz, been hitching rides.
Hitched to San Francisco, took a week.
Found mud, found blood, found smoke.
Like a hobo man.
Eggs over medium well, with butter.
Side of thick bacon, coffee, and toast.
Delicious sweet rolls and kiwi fruit.
Fill up a hobo man.
Mostly walking, from town to town.
Take showers at the the local Y.
National parks and national sounds.
Just a hobo man.
'All Waylon' by Mayor
I always loved Waylon. Grew up in Lubbock. We were all Waylon, saw him when I was kid. Be good to have another mix. Used to go to the Littlefield picnics. Maines brothers and others. Saw Willie that one year. 92 maybe. Could probably do without that same mix.
'Leftover Pancakes' by Tone Capone
Gonna get out of here so you can clean, feel like I'm in your way. Waylon, he's alright. Y'all need to get away from the Red Dirt stuff. Went a bit to far. Oh, you can have the these leftover pancakes. Surprised Okra changed his tire by himself.
'Dirk Moment' by Okra.
Hey, hey, hey. Hey, hey. Thinking of incorporating some Waylon into my Phillipino choir. The rumor is that Romo is the backup, if he's needed. Effing Romo. I believed. My family all had jerseys. We'd come walking in. Thought he was gonna have his Dirk moment. What an insult to Dirk. I bought into it.
'His Left Foot' by Wiki
After quitting cocaine, he ended his habit of smoking six packs of cigarettes daily in 1988. In December 1988, he underwent triple heart bypass surgery after suffering chest pains while on his tour bus. By 2000, his diabetes worsened, and the pain reduced his mobility, forcing Jennings to end most touring. Later the same year, he underwent surgery to improve his leg circulation. In December 2001, his left foot was amputated at a hospital in Phoenix. On February 13, 2002, Jennings died in his sleep of diabetic complications in Chandler, Arizona.
'Lone Stars And Dome Cars' by jpg
...lone stars and dome cars.
...future was always so far.
...no longer, not anymore.
...nothing can be ignored.
'Digs Plato' by jpg
Take ten breaths and set your minds.
Shrug your shoulders and realize.
Drink a cold drink with a twist of lime.
Look at me honey, look me in the eyes.
Never know what to do, when there's nothing better to do. Bound to make a bad mistake, bored to death of this same ole place.
Find a woman that thinks the same.
Make her happy, make her golden tan.
Someone that wants a lonely man.
Way she moves you know she understands.
Asks questions about love and soul.
Reads Aristotle, really digs Plato.
What's she's thinking is hard to know.
She's open to it, her mind ain't closed.
'Down To The Knuckles' by jpg
Venus was high in the sky.
Seen from the clear western view.
At night, dark as space.
Look up and know our reality.
Too much time travel.
The weary are loud again.
Restlessness is the mood.
Get on with the end.
Straighten the skeleton.
Pull the muscles tight.
Smooth and rhythmically.
Down to the knuckles.
At age 16, after several disciplinary infractions, tenth-grader Jennings was convinced to drop out of high school by the superintendent. Jennings started to work as a DJ in 1956, and moved to Lubbock. His program ran for six hours, from 4:00 in the afternoon to 10:00 in the evening. Jennings played two hours of Country classics, two of current Country, and two of mixed recordings. During those final two hours, Jennings played artists such as Chuck Berry and Little Richard. The owner reprimanded him each time he aired the recordings, and when he then played two Richard records in a row, the owner fired him.
'Washer Glory (California Cruiser)' by jpg
...never know what to do when there's nothing to do. Sandtraps and rocks overcome. Trail worries and urgent pedals, standing on the odysees and pushing my weight forward. The California cruiser took it all. Blues is blues. Washer glory. Quick and deadly, feeling it from the shower and nap. Never had to platoon, boys, count your blessings. Heroic acts required for the survival of many. Fighting for each other. Drinking and smoking the days away. Pickled squash is tasty. Waylon getting back to California. Lucille picked a fine damn time to leave, she left us hungry with no harvest to reap. Stay away from Connecticut girls, just scoundrels and dames. We'll teach you to fly...
Pecan praline sipping drink, bacon wrapped filets, smoked, large baked potatoes with butter, sour cream, and cheese. Course pepper and salt. An onion and mushroom mixture sat in an iron skillet. Sauteed in butter and worechester sauce. Some Duncan or Howell invention, a bit overcooked. Good sweet, buttery, corn was the star on the top. Any, any restaurant in the city would be shamed. Any. The idiot city, our home...
'Indeed Comrade' by One Fine Gringo
A little touch up left but the blue and white helmet is now flat red. Indeed comrade.
'Swahili' by Wiki
In 1985, Jennings joined with USA for Africa to record "We Are the World", but he left the studio because of a dispute over the song's lyrics that were to be sung in Swahili. Ironically, after Jennings left the session, the idea was dropped at the prompting of Stevie Wonder, who pointed out that Ethiopians did not speak Swahili.
'Outlaw Bit' by jpg
...because the dogs own the middle days of the West Texas summer. Finding shade and looking cool. Our bodies shut down, our motivations become baked, our minds think wildly...
...Waylon sang about conflict. Literal and figurative. A combination of stubbornness, stupidity, and vocal uniqueness...with a good band and Fender Tele sound...
...never had a bad meal at New mavericks. Been awhile since I rode. Miles flashed by....towns went ignored...Waylon blared. ........The outlaw bit getting out of hand...Amanda lighting up life...T for Texas, t for Tennessee...he'd do one of Hanks now and then, but Hank never did them that way. Evidently.
'Bag Of Ice' by Tone Capone
Can you please grab a bag of ice?
'Merely Necessary' by jpg
...the road is not mysterious, it is not liberation or freedom...the road is merely nesseccery...
'22 Pilots' by One Fine Gringo
I want to start a band called 22 pilots. We would be like 1 better than 21 Pilots. They could never show their faces again.
'Butte' by Marshall
Jacksonville > New Orleans, LA > Houston, TX > San Antonio, TX > El Paso, TX > Phoenix, AZ > Grand Canyon > Las Vegas, NV > Los Angeles, CA > Yosemite > Redding, CA > Portland, OR > Seattle, WA > Butte, MT > Yellow Stone > Cheyenne, WY > Kansas City, MO > Chattanooga, TN > Jacksonville
'Spanky-Twang' by Wiki
Jennings's music was characterized by his "powerful" singing voice, noted by his "rough-edged quality", as well as his phrasing and texture. He was also recognized for his "spanky-twang" guitar style. To create his sound, he used a pronounced 'phaser' effect (see 'Modulation Effects': below) plus a mixture of thumb and fingers during the rhythmic parts, while using picks for the lead runs. He combined hammer-on and pull-off riffs, with eventual upper-fret double stops and modulation effects.
'Backbones And Graffiti' by jpg
So provocative, so provoking. The feelings of others are important Mayor. They are the silent ones. They are the unheard. They create backbones and graffiti. They awake with coffee and squats. They are inked and holy. Their women love them over and over. And over.
'Waterboy' by Okra
My kids have found waterboy on Netflix......I'm raising 3 geniuses....Silver haze over the sky......on vacation and thankful for the day.......ttop got his own song.......he probably thinks of me as his best friend......fing honor.
'Women's Tennis Final' by Tone Capone
I was hoping to see some cowboy on the lazy boy watching the women's tennis finals.
'Godzilla Marathon' by The Mayor
I found the best coffee in the world.
Where are y'all? Damn.
Godzilla marathon was the bomb.
He is already two sheets.
'Birth Certificate' by Wiki
The name on his birth certificate was Wayland, meaning land by the highway. His name was changed after a Baptist preacher visited Jennings's parents and congratulated his mother for naming him after the Wayland Baptist University in Plainview, Texas. Lorene Jennings, who had been unaware of the college, changed the spelling to Waylon. Jennings later expressed in his autobiography, "I didn't like Waylon. It sounded corny and hillbilly, but it's been good to me, and I'm pretty well at peace with it right now."
Not too high.
Not too low.
Almost funny, really.
Both think the same.
For the same reasons.
For as long as the other.
Nerves been got on.
Sicknesses been made.
Time is not on my side.
The evidence is clear.
Sell it all and check out.
The ash of our lives.
Containment is hard.
Resentment is real.
Overcomers must forgive.
It's the only rational way.
No laughs tonight.
No giggles or prayers.
The stars began moving around on the flag. The stripes separated and formed random shapes. Then the colors began changing. Blue turned green, red turned yellow, white became black. Suddenly, the stars formed a circle and began spinning around. Slowely at first, then faster and faster til the stars were moving so fast they became invisible. To the naked eye, an optical illusion of sorts. This went on and on over a backdrop of green, yellow, and black. Then, in an instant, the spinning stars stopped. The defined lines of one star appeared from the fifty. Massive and white. Shining and glowing. Neon. Nations, they rise and fall. Only one flag remains. One light.
Wake me when it's over.
Bleed like Jesus, beads of blood dripping down your face.
Love like Jesus, uninhibited and pure.
Die like Jesus, to live again forever.
Trashy ain't cool.
Chuck Berry was better than Elvis.
Turnip greens are essential.
*These roads, always under repair.
*Potholes filled with gravel and tar.
*Patted down to even out the street.
*The hitchhikers complain of the smell.
*Like any consideration is given to them.
*Those without cars or trucks are last.
*Last to arrive and last to leave.
If you live a long life.