September142014

maxkirin:

Neil Gaiman’s 8 Rules of Writing, a remake of this post. Source.

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(via supernormalstep)

11AM

thosecomics:

Angry comic from an angry Californian D:

(via tastefullyoffensive)

9AM
“Scrambled eggs and whiskey
in the false-dawn light. Chicago,
a sweet town, bleak, God knows,
but sweet. Sometimes. And
weren’t we fine tonight?
When Hank set up that limping
treble roll behind me
my horn just growled and I
thought my heart would burst.
And Brad M. pressing with the
soft stick, and Joe-Anne
singing low. Here we are now
in the White Tower, leaning
on one another, too tired
to go home. But don’t say a word,
don’t tell a soul, they wouldn’t
understand, they couldn’t, never
in a million years, how fine,
how magnificent we were
in that old club tonight.”

Hayden Carruth, “Scrambled Eggs and Whiskey”

This is for emchy, too.

(via rustbeltjessie)

Because always

9AM

HoboLoveTour: we are the good eggs

tonight was neutral grounds show and so much win. the crowd was small but full of excitement and post show exuberance. we sold much merch and the tip basket was generous. smallest and most lucrative show yet.

the day has been a dream. the most passionate and overwhelming day. the idea of leaving this city has me full of grief and longing. i don’t know if real life can really keep me from this much longer. Our New Friend took us down to bywater and some of the best sweet potato pancakes of my life. and then it was explore the marigny, explore bywater, go out to the old golf course that’s been overrun and abandoned since the Hurrican and walk walk walk.

after our show we went back to our place near Esplanade and back down to the Spotted Cat. Such good music. i thought my face would crack from joy.

the moments - from the drive in to the right now

1. moon the color of a bonfire rising out of swamp fog above the mississippi

2. the field guide to the black forest

3. she played accordion on her neck, singing with her ribs pushing out the bellows of her lungs

4. the murder ballads of copper harbor

5. walking down the street dancing with the trees

6. daytime cicadas are drowning out the car stereo

7. there are carnical lights on all the park signs. nature is a party

8. she picked a heart shaped leaf off of the flagstone sidewalk on esplanade

9. got a drink on frenchman with a bisexual bathroom where the whiskey came in plastic cups

10. there’s always trash on the shore of the most beautiful rivers

11. wods are rolling with the beat of our wheels. our steps. the rustle of our feet through the abandoned grass of the Hurrican golf course

12. sitting in the Apple Barrel I tell her how the lagoon smelled like ever good childhood memory I’ve ever had. i could live here and smell my youth every day. I tell her this and tear fill my eyes blending with the smoke and the whiskey, love this town where leaving breaks my ehart.

13. she found broken bricks in the streetside trash can

14. the tear of your hat. smooth and soft like a velveteen rabbit, turning this drive into something safe and familiar.

15. Al Green played by a jazz band on Frenchman with the drums rolling it forward like the night can’t end in anything but complete lusty wonder. my face is about to break with awe. wiith absolute fucking win.

16. an old bluesman who just finished his set at a different club comes up. you’re a big fine lady. i like big fine ladies. if ic ould take a big fine lady like you home i’d be satisfied.

17. a Brazilian man in New Orleans for the last six months thinks my tattoo is beautiful. i can’t stop thinking of Roberto Bengnini.

18. His name is Eric and his family owns a famous New Orleans restaurant. He wants me to go do coke with him in the bathroom. He promises he won’t tell. When I refuse and we leave the bar he finds us at where we’ve stopped for food. Not recognizing me. He wants to buy me a drink and then asks if his nose is clean. Do we like to party?

19. a dog howls over near the train tracks where a haunting whistle sounds. at the same moment a police siren runs down the street and it’s the same mournful sound from all of us. something is lost. something is found. in this place where dreams are pale and wan next to the lush sweat on the neck of a cool night in a hot bar and the band just throbs. go man go.

9AM
Just me and cluecat

Just me and cluecat

9AM
September132014
I <3 neldams

I <3 neldams

7PM
Squinty awesome

Squinty awesome

6PM
6PM
6PM
6PM
6PM
Hooray!!!

Hooray!!!

5PM
Awww happy happy

Awww happy happy

5PM
Musician bestie selfie

Musician bestie selfie