And hello Everyone!!!
It's good to have you. get comfy. Imagine we're in the same room, imagine I'm handing you a cup of coffee, or a beer, or cigarette.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Acid Fizz - 6
Bug Spray
It was wrong to be that way, and tell her she looks like a baby bunny and for some reason this works, even though your glasses are taped to shit, your shirt is stretched and you just recently washed a dick drawing off your face.
I told my mom that it was becoming a problem how close I was getting to this thing. That the further I got, the more they’d all make up their minds to what I was. But it was time to get in or get out. And sure she’s proud but i doubt she wants to watch me go down like this.
But we go to the beach and I remember both of their names but have a hard time splitting the two. D has his new puppy and it rolls around like crazy, then sleeps like crazy. We watch the water turn and drink tall Pabst. The Yankees shell our ace, he only makes it two innings.
The last night we have a fire and invite the cats round town. We eat pizza pockets because no matter what I’m to tired to be drunk. I dream all night in a lazy boy about being in Pittsburgh and turn over and back.
And the baby bunny wrote her number on my hand but when I woke up it was smudged. So i really don’t have a lesson, moral or punchline - just some lies, some truths and it doesnt matter which is which.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Acid Fizz - 5
Acid Fizz - 1
Acid Fizz - 2
Acid Fizz - 3
Acid Fizz - 4
Such a Night
Saturday, June 25, 2011
A Pat On The Back
An excerpt from Sean Williamson's upcoming book Mighty Me
Tonight I got it bad and they don’t know it. Little Steve lays out some shots and Merna cackles like a demon watching Three And A Half Men. It’s busy, for Wednesday it’s busy, twelve or so overall.
I take the shot and Little Steve opens me a beer. I eat some popcorn, look at my phone, take a sip, look at my phone, take out my wallet and look for a phone number I wrote on the back of a CVS receipt, look at my phone.
Karl with the broken arm tells me about his kid busting his garage door. I ask him how his arm is doing.
“Still broken” he says.
Nobody calls me Dirty anymore. Which is good, or maybe it’s because nobody sees me anymore. I’ve been out of the loop. Hanging out with Wendy and whatnot.
Two guys a few years younger than me in school talk in the corner by the BASS poster. It has a bass on it. One says to the other-
“Well you shouldn't have just tossed em’ without asking”
To which the other replies “I just figured everyone was done with the penis cakes. How much penis cake does one household need anyway?”
Which I thought was a fair question, but forget that now, focus man.
No call, no text, maybe she’s at her mothers house. But you won’t go there, her mother is not into you, you are not her favorite person.
These people here, they don’t know. Unless you show it.
And everyone laughs crazy as hell at what that lady from Kenosha says and we all have another shot.
I walk outside passed three twentysomethin’s saying nothing and into the road, the air is wet like summer but it’s colder now. These people don’t know anything right now, if they do they only know a version, they don’t know you got it bad.
And its a dastardly oneupper when you tell the woman you love you cheated and she tells you she’s pregnant. But that, my friends, happened just a few hours ago, to me.
I shoudnt have said anything, hell, when i said-
“Baby I got something to tell you.”
She said excitedly “Wait, me first.” with beaming eyes. But I told her it couldnt wait, then what I did.
And all the boozing and stumbling, strip club clubbin, all the backstabs and overdoses, long looks and cold shoulders, cheap beer, nasty leers, accidental success and almost impossible failures - this really takes the cake.
My Lady, pregnant with my baby probably doesn't want to see me anymore. I’m surprised she ever did. I made damn well sure to fuck this up, thanks me.
To The Replay
I’ve been writing less and thinking a little bit more. If thinking is what you want to call it. I always had a hard time reading in front of people and was a lot more comfortable talking shit. Even then I lose track and have a hard time saying the things I want to say. It is only once every great while I cut out the scatter shot philosophizing and say exactly what I mean.
So anyways, I’ve been taking a break from the ramble jambles because there’s something I want to get at.
I said last night at the downtown books reading that I think to myself, when things get hard, that I wish I had made the exact opposite decision in every step of my life.
If I would have worked harder, focused more, been less impulsive, less romantic – things could have been entirely different. I would have a good job and a car and a gal and a full fridge, I could go to the movies when I wanted, I could go to baseball games when I wanted, if I had known how it was going to be I could have changed everything. I could have felt different.
Instead I’m walking in the rain and hanging out at fucking Kinkos, eating slims at bus stops and cursing to myself, about myself – all in the attempt to get maybe one, hell maybe two people to read my newest piece of underground fiction.
And a long time ago Ladd from the band PARK told me and the dudes that if we wanted to play in a band, if we wanted to enjoy it and get any sense of fulfillment from it, we had to be able to measure our own success. And we played for another six or seven years after that. All things considered I measured it out and it was a great thing that brought a lot of fun times and new friends.
And there was a show last night and Downtown Books that I think exceeded everyone’s expectations, people coming out and enjoying fiction reading, live art and acoustic music sets. Shit was bonkers man. I thought it would go well but it exceeded all my expectations.
Even in the good times, the triumphs and victories, the underlying doubt remains because after you drink your drinks and applaud each other’s efforts you still wake up lonely on someone’s couch and walk to school to take a nap in the stacks.
Last night I said that many people believe that art comes from passion. I rarely feel passionate in a traditional way about my work. But in the same way I can’t go back and change the decisions I’ve made or reconstruct my life, I can’t stop wanting to write books and make movies. If passion means doing something because you think you don’t have a choice, I got mad passion. If passion means writing and making art because you’re trying to save your life, I got that too.
Someone once told me that waking up early for work on a cold Milwaukee morning was the loneliest time in their life, that they were the only one alive and the two minutes they sat in bed before they actually had to step out and get dressed was the longest two minutes known to humankind. The two minutes of isolation and loneliness stretching on into infinity until it was not a measure of time at all, but a symbol, a statement of affairs and a stamp on their reality.
And the more decisions we make (one way or the other) the more we scatter these statements of loneliness, which only fade when we don’t expect it.
We’re all responsible for what we do, and while making art can be frustrating and hard – It’s also a choice (hell I wouldn’t be a good doctor or dentist anyhow). So as my man Frank always says, “You made that bed, now lay in it.”
So let’s lay.
Happy Friday and much love,
SW
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Acid Fizz - 4
Sunday, June 19, 2011
it's an....
EXTRAVAGANZA!!!
Do you dream of wandering through tall windy stacks and then seeing someone reading a story aloud?
Perhaps you like very dusty things, and also music performed by obscure but talented musicians from Milwaukee?
Or, you like cats. Specifically Milo and Merlin, the cats that live at...
DOWNTOWN BOOKS!!!
If you answered yes to any or all of these questions, you should come to the Domestic Gastronomists/World Wide Dirt sponsored DOWNTOWN BOOKS EXTRAVAGANZA!
June 23rd (this thursday) at Downtown Books (327 E Wisconsin Ave)
Doors open at nine (when we usually close) and the shows start at 9:30
**I say shows, because this will be a multi-staged event, with people performing live art, music and
literature simultaneously, on various stages.
Performers Include:
WWD's Dirt (Sean Williamson) and Guy (Parker Winship)
Nick Kotecki
Bethany Price
Sleeper Lake
Le Anna Eden
Mary Shippee
Travis Thorp
Rebecca Pollack
A Robot!!!!
and OTHERS!!!!
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Sure
Sure I bought a couple shitty donuts and a Mellow Yellow from the gas station this morning.
Sure I splashed around in dirty water all day.
Sure I ran from the bus stop to the party at my house I thought I’d miss.
Sure I’m looking at my rolls of film in the fridge next to a penis cake (why?) and chicken tenders.
Sure, it’s true.
But I aint scared of nothing, for sure that’s true.
Acid Fizz - 3
Friday, June 17, 2011
Pete June
For other reasons, I called Pete June in Omaha. Hell, he didnt want to talk to me. I wasnt suprised.
I thought about coming out and seeing her, I said.
Yeah, well, I’ll see it when I believe it, he said.
Other way around, I said.
You know what? fuck you, stay away from us, he said. The line went dead.
I figured that’s how it’d be and finished my cobbler.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
I Aint Sad Girl
And it never seemed like anyone wanted to mind their own beeswax. So lets just get out with it, shall we?
On nights where all the old world rushes on like half a nightmare. Like those reoccurring roads I have in my dreams that lead eventually to a huge restaurant/hotel/museum built into the side of the tree.
Or the gas station that is never really open, or (more often than not) the barn with the open door i can’t see inside. It’s there though, over a small valley from the house with the swinging screen door.
I consider everyone as up in the game. Hey, and maybe that’s what twenty-five-year old dudes think, that they can’t lose. Maybe not. I just like what I see going on and it seems like the universe is giving a payoff. And in my estimation they only come now and then. I remember being twenty and feeling like I was completely fucked (and a few times since then) but I’m still here.
I don’t know man.
You ready for the Downtown Books Extravaganza?
My rib feels terrible buts it’s summer and shit gets fun in Milwaukee.
Keep lovin and dreamin, devilishly scheming, be nice and respectful, and live these moments like a monster - but the good kind, like from Monster Squad.
And always remember that it isn't all roses for anyone, eventually we all take a hit. So be grateful and helpful.
love,
SW