Friday, June 29, 2007

June 29, 2007
Demon House
WDC, 20009 USA

"Just the bang and the clatter as an angel hits the ground" -U2

Been thinking too much. Kim S.K. always says it's bad for me to do that--I agree. JB always says, "Don't think too much if you don't think too good."

Sitting on the porch watching the world go by has become my favorite thing to do, it's my job. George said that dogs need jobs to do, and if they're not given one they'll make it up (for instance: chewing up your furniture, and guarding the house from trucks, planes, and mailmen); Margaret told me that idea years ago in relation to one of her dogs. I think the job I've made up is one for which I'm well suited. I sit on the porch and think.

For as long as I can recall I've tried to avoid thinking (I hope I've done a visibly good job). But porch-sitting has got me thinking. And when I think, I think about thoughts (frequently interrupted by Groucho-styled eyebrow-waggling, grunts, groans, and other cavemen sounds inspired by my appreciation for the many, many, lovely women who walk by during the course of my deep thoughts) such as intelligence and what people take for granted in their day to day lives. What I take for granted and assume to be common-sense is vastly different from everyone else's specific concepts of common-sense and intelligence. And that intrigues me. Or maybe it's the beer that intrigues me and makes me think those thoughts. It certainly aids the leering lascivious thoughts that interrupt.

I'm not school-smart anymore. I was. Decades ago. I really remember very little about the terrifying periods of school that wound up making me leave for good. From the course of my entire school career--pre-school and Sunday school, kindergarten through the major hiccup of 3rd, and from 4th to the terminal 6th grade--I have only a few memories, and they form as mental images. These aren't images I've appropriated from photographs or videos. My family didn't shoot a lot of photos after we were little and we never had a video camera. School-smart is for passing classes. I was good at it while at the Corcoran, but didn't learn much, was exposed to a lot but didn't learn much that I am actively aware of using or being able to use to inform others. Learning often means doing things repetitively, but it also means doing things that can get one in trouble. I see now that my flights from the 3rd and 6th grades were very childish ways (and I mean that positively) of being. Being myself. Listening to your intuition, inner voice, daemon, whatever-the-hell-you-wanna-call-it as an adult gets one looked at as unreliable, immature, and incapable of growing up. Whoop the fuck-ee. Google "Picasso childlike" and see how many returns you receive. I yap.

Bah. Hunting and pecking tires me. I just mean for you to know that, despite all the fotos and words on my blog about consumption of alcoholic beverages, I'm still not fully imbecilic--despite my best efforts. This doesn't mean I'm going to answer your phone calls, or initiate calls either. I continue to communicate primarily non-verbally.

Hit the neighborhood bar to get a burger last night earlier than I usually am there and it was crowded with attractive girls and the requisite lame DC dudes. My last tip must've knocked me into the consciousness of the notoriously non-smiling bartender I've always liked despite the glum factor. I wasn't drunk enough to eat their burger (the one that around midnight, with half a dozen beers in my belly, tastes like perfection) and she wanted to know what was wrong with it (nothing, as I told her), insisted on taking it off my check, and kept serving me beers. I finally checked out and the tab was about a third of what it should've been, so I hoped I tipped big enough. It's cool to get smiles from someone not known for smiling!

Oh, and I've said it before, but it remains true, "I expectorate better, therefore I do." It's a play on words! Ha! Get it?! Expectorate = expect to rate! OMG! Ha! Goddamn I'm funny. Effing hilarious. I'm better liked when I STFU. So I'll STFU.


mike said...

got thru the first couple paragraphs, get thru the rest timorrow!
ya dog

mike said...

maybe all you need to do is sit on the porch like a dog and write, and take photos.

robert long said...


I agree with it all, especially the part about you not learning anything at the Corcoran. I shouldn't say anything, I should say anything in the classes you took from me. Firm in my memory, unaided by photos or videos, is the decision I made to give you a passing grade in your first year writing courses. It was the wrong thing for me to do. I'm sorry.
It was also wrong for me to give you the finger the other day when I saw you on your porch. The gesture was totally unprovoked and reflects in no way the generally luke-warm feeling I have about what's left of our friendship.

mike said...

Thanks for making Bob L. hate us you douche bag!

&rew Bain said...

Casey, blow me.

I thought you were really cool back in those days. Since then I've learned just how fucking cynical you are. Which makes you seem lots more human, and thus likable, but also far more of the prick that I think you are. So fuck off.


cpwebb25 said...

someone needs a hug

wendy said...

I heart Casey.