I had ribs last night, and I didn't get the Swine Flu.

A wadded up tissue, tissue box with pears on it, kaleidoscope eyes.

Ultimate Wrestling: The Ultimate Test of Stupidity!

Are they really serious? Do men really dress up in tights and underwear and wrestle each other for sport? 

Of course, the competitions are completely real. When you look at the script, it clearly notes that any wrestling and all fighting is completely real. Thats what makes Ultimate Wrestling the most glorious sport of all! Ponder, Dirty Dan, the reigning champion!

Cancer sucks. I really hate cancer.

Go to sleep, now.

And the rain keeps...

One gold mouthpiece, card, calculator, and big coca cola. Now I'm ready.

Disclaimer: I have never ever smoked weed.

It's over. I am free. It feels good to say, now that it is over. At least, I think it's over. For her it's just beginning:

"So hanging out with him is going to be the best thing that ever happened to her, like she is going to be totally bad-ass."

"Well, I think that she shouldn't do it the first time with him. Her first time should be with me and lauren."

"Seriously, this is going to be the best thing that will happen to her, 'cause she needs some bad-ass in her life."

"Yeah, totally."

Well, guess what boys and girls? They were talking about smoking weed! Because weed can only make you cooler. Everyone knows that being a pothead is really cool and fun and safe! Well, guess what? Turns out I was wrong. Sorry! Bad-asses don't smoke pot. Dumb-asses do! Because weed is what smart people call a "gateway drug". First, you smoke a couple joints. You get high with your friends. But then you crave weed, and weed becomes your parasite and your everything('it won't happen to me!' - yes it will). Next thing you know, you are addicted, really "a dick." You skip practice, you skip school. You steal money. You buy heroine and crack cocaine. Crack kills, and so weed kills. Weed, cocaine, and then you die. Is that really what you want? Is that really cool? I heard somewhere that smoking is "slow suicide." So if you're going to commit suicide someday, why don't you start right now? 

A message from people who don't smoke pot.

And that is why it is over. I will do everything in my power to prevent this sin and this shame and this crime from happening, but what happens, happens. Remember: Life is ugly. Love is beautiful. People will always lie. If her life gets ruined, it's not my fault. It is their fault, her friends and her peers and those around her who decide that they will take the reins of her life. Good luck, and God Bless!

Cook,

I am addicted to Grape Soda

Grape Soda, Groundhog Day, Muddy Waters, The Beatles and I. 

Life is shit. Nature is beautiful, and love and music is beautiful, but life is just unfair. I'm convinced that things don't happen for a reason. Things happen and people happen and places happen and shit happens. Just when things are the worst they can be, they can get even worse. And is that were religion comes in? Touchy, I know. Ponder 1 2 2 1.

Um, _ _ _ _ 

sweet dreams?

The Cold War: People talking about blowing themselves up

Headphones, A George Washington, two Jeffersons, and a Lincoln, wine butter steaks and a tenor saxophone. 

Hell! Just to say her name would suffice.

Every time I throw the dice,

the sky spits and earth jitters

life isn't pie and apple fritters.

And yet her name

it is so simple

four letters

two of them the same

two consonants  and two vowels

her stare making me sweat (two towels)

she sneers at me

I don't know why

she really must hate my guts. 

I guess,

Life isn't apple fritters and life ain't apple pie.

5 4 5 (13)

Breaking News:

Fidel Castro has been associated with the country-western band "Cowboy Boots and Beef Jerky" in an attempt to hide from his classical-flavored cousin, Raul. Apparently Castro has been sitting in as the band's temporary cow bell player. "I had no clue," said Rusty, the lead singer. "We all thought he was okay because of the facial hair." Rusty and the rest of the band have been taken into custody of CIA and are being interrogated right now. Hopefully this incident will serve as a vehicle to stop the horrible and destructive country-western music genre and perhaps Communism. Only time will tell...

Nothing more.

Cool,

Cook

I would drive you, but I'm morally against the idea of Dogs

A golden pen, a red pen, a book about pizza and making it, and a CD guide to a keyboard.

Today, I saw a HUGE fish jump out of the lake. It was AWESOME. The reason we are SOCIALIST is that SOCIALISTS are TRULY for GERMANY and WE are for GERMANY so WE are SOCIALIST. Ponder, AP Euro homework.

Playing the saxophone. Chords and stuff. Scales. The improvisation, the real jazz, like Wynton Marsalis says. People tell me they liked jazz because you can play whatever you want and its easier to play jazz. Sorry my friend, but this is not TRUE! Its hard to explain, but making up melodic lines and harmonies on the fly is harder than just reading them off a page. The music is hard also, glissando gals. You can't just play the notes on the page, you've got to play the music, the soul and vibe to it. You don't play a blues with separated notes. You don't play a bebop with slurred notes. If you want to play the music, learn the emotion and people and the places. New Orleans means Second Line. New York means swing. "Chameleon" means funk; "Night Train" means blues; "Night in Tunisia" means latin. Coltrane means loud; Webster means soft. Parker means fast; Duke means slow. The reason these musicians became so good is because they understood and respected the old order, the form and traditional aspect and sound. Only when you understand the past will you make the future. Ponder, jazz minutes.

homework,

home is

work

is 

not

fun but

it is my job

life is my job

and its better to work extra hours.

The Show must go on.

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, 'One Single Fire', empty Wayfarer's case, apostrophe.

Forgotten Sports Heroes and Heroines:

L'mar Oswald, State University Lacrosse team Captain, 1969.

The controversial disqualification of Oswald in the final round of the National College Lacrosse Association Tournament heralded a new age of using media and film for referee purposes. L'mar stepped out the designated bounds while throwing a scoring goal, confused between the soccer bounds and the lacrosse bounds. This resulted in the only tie is NCLAT history, and Oswald, disgusted with his loss, descended into a world of drugs. He eventually settled in a Bay City monastery. 

Latifah Thompson, Olympic Gold medalist in 40 and 100 stair competition, 1960.

A stair star, Thompson lost her status as the premier stair athlete after a painful and humiliating tumble down the stairs after one of her races. This resulted in the immediate removal of the stair event from the Olympics.

Otto von Margo, 300 lb Olympic Gold medalist in the 3200 run, 1916.

Despite of his size, 8' 5" Otto von Margo, a monster of a man, destroyed all odds and became the best distance runner of the World War One. It is said the he only took one hundred steps during the race. He was drafted into the German army in 1917 to boost morale as the German Goliath. Ironically, he was gunned down by a French midget, Henri Napoleon (distant cousin of Louis Napoleon's son) who was recorded to have said "Can you run two miles from this?"

Morgan "Sugar" Callihan, National champion (1st place) in the 1600 walk, 1970.

Callihan shocked the world with his unusual and painfully powerful new technique. Rather that walk like a normal person, "Sugar" used his power hips and arms to propel him threw the competition. He walked an incredible 7:30, the world record in the 1600 walk today. Callihan can be still be seen walking today, and has actually walked across the country four times. After his bout as champion, he formed the National Group of Avid Walkers and Middle Distance Skippers (NGoAWaMDS). 

No poetry.

good night.

Its Poetry Month, so go poetry yourself.

iPod cords (lots of them), granola bars with chocolate, a powerade bottle cap, belt buckle and notepad (dusty). 

love is like a box chocolates

really expensive 

and you don't even know what you are buying

Clouds - 

clouds,

you are so big

in the sky 

lots of cotton candy

floating on wind

passing me by

sometimes you are fast

other times you are slow

sometimes is rains

and sometimes it snows.

if only i were like you

and went where the wind takes me

maybe i could listen you 

and maybe you could tell me your secrets and i could tell you mine

i bet clouds have good secrets

but i don't.

ha - blogged, in my pants.

i'm out of memories. 

Don't break my elephant, bitches.

nine new CDs, little guitar, blues harp, six packs of american swiss rolls. there were no survivors.

poetry is motion.

like the ocean has motion.

forced by the moon

tides and waves

boats and ships

and cargo and people and animals

move

by 

motion.

stars sing.

if you listen.

(quietly)

they WILL

tell you their secrets

like when 

and why

sometimes where

but never what

thats part of the game that you play

with 

the stars

lying on

your back 

on the cold concrete

and wind is mellowing through the bits of sand about you 

with the sweet fragrance of the sky mingling with you

(you're not very good at small talk)

but all the same it feels good

it is warm but not

it is cold,   but not

in between 

mellow

melodies

mingle

meeting

mellow

fellows

yet

you

yearn

you

yak

in between.

and then the sky

there are many stars

you try to count

you can only make it to ten,

but you know there are more

maybe twenty!

you see the stars in pairs

it looks they are all happy

up their hanging around upstairs

some twinkle and flirt with you

but you know there is another star

out there in the dark and blue

the sky like an ocean of cliche

so many things i could say

but if i did say them to you

i don't know what you would do

yell or scream of just be plain mean

and i could talk i would

but i can't

so we still aren't understood. 

As night embraces

and the sun paces

for more time on this earth

the fire in the hearth

and some hearts of flame

some of cold winter and same old same

I pray for you.

Secularzilla!

Water, 52 lb keyboard, thoughts on why its "lb," and Sugarhill Gang.

Which side is Godzilla on? The good guys or the bad guys? I remember the moth battled him, and the moth was good. Then there was that anime show and Godzilla was battling robots. But then there was that movie and Godzilla was having babies AND killing people. Those Japanese - Allies the Axis? Really? Ponder, 3 weeks till AP exams.

Dear _ _ _ _

I've messed up. Big time. The situation peaked before I could make a move. Now I'm just an awkward late bloomer, and out of place. You make me crazy - I just can't talk or be myself around her. Its like one look from you just destroys my ground. And now I'm bitter and angsty and you hate me and I hate you but I still like you. World Wide Web, show me the way! Ponder, too late.

Jazz club. Next year!

stuff i think we should cover

-Monk tunes - Blue Monk, Monk's Point

-Rollins - St. Thomas, Doxy, Tenor Madness

-Silver - Jungle Juice, Sister Sadie

-Duke - Sent. mood, NOT CARAVAN, don't get around much

Chitlins con Carne - Burell?

Cool.

Folks, 

good --

night

Perky. Dr, Perky.

Hohner. Yes Man!

Nerds! a cellular that actually calls people, bookmark le saxophone, and maybe twenty CDs (they like to change their minds a lot. Its a democracy, what can you do[nothing]).  

Hello - let us start over. You are a person I am fond of. I am person, just like you. I am crazy, and most of the time intact. Three parts of my life - crazy, intactilocity, and my brain.

Let me tell you about my brain. Imagine a room, toilet white with one door. It is primarily yellow, but it is actually blue (the door)[yeeehah!]. There is one chair in the room, with four legs, connected with two bars. The chair is black, like burned wood is black. There is a man in the chair. He is wearing a sombrero and poncho. He has a wispy mexi-stache and he is not smiling, but he is still content. He is holding two tambourines, that have the insignia of a saxophone on them. When he shakes these tambourines, no sound is made. When he shakes these tambourines, he smiles. When they are not shaking, he does not smile. 

That was my brain. Let me tell you more about my body. I have two ears, eyes, nostrils, arms, legs, feet, thumbs. I have one nose, belly button. Let me tell you about my eyes. They are blue!

I like music. I like it. I like playing it, listening to it, watching it, smelling it. I even try to eat it sometimes! [Disregard previous statement]. When I was young, I like cows. Then I liked horses. Then I wanted to be a cowboy. Then I liked dolphins. Then the Japanese invaded. Then I liked music. Here we are.

I can imagine you have questions - no you don't! The government will tell you what to think, and the Duce is the leader always! Big Brother is the most amazing! The Great Leader-San is all important! Now you do not have any questions.

It seems like I am rambling, but I am not. There is an illogical flow of ideas, and maybe someday I will show you my illogic. If we could friends?

Signed Sincerely,

The Cook

Post Scriptum 

Walk up to the counter, and tell that _______ that I want a ______ with _______ , _______ - giggle - 

Good _______ 

I had souvlaki, and I liked it.

A saxophone cleaning utensil, huge box of kleenex (two-ply, non cushy kind), an empty wallet, three quarters, one dime and nickel, and two pennies. and an unopened christmas c.d.

I haven't talked about music in a while. I just read a book of Wynton Marsalis' - "Jazz in the Bittersweet Blues of Life." It is a keeper (too bad I borrowed it from the library). It reminded me of why I love music so much. [Good] Music has substance - you can almost touch, feel it, smell it. Like the difference between being in a blues bar in Chicago, with a faint tinge of cigarette smoke and alcohol, and being in a classical music hall, which smells like nice wine and a certain woody timbre. Like the streets of New York versus the fields of the prairie. And music has life and vivacity, whether its the blues or rock n roll or baroque or hip-hop or anything. Music is the product of human struggle - Mozart had syphilis, and Eric Clapton was addicted to cocaine (he also had been tricked to think that his mom was actually his sister). And music has humor - Sonny Rollins was playing a gig the night before Easter. At the stroke of midnight, he played an Easter hymn, right smack-dab in the middle of his solo. Music is connection, music is love, music is hate, music is emotion, passion, all that stuff. Sometimes, I think that music could save the world. Ponder, one four five.

I like to thing that soul in jazz is like calories in food. The more, the better. All this "lite" crap and smooth "Kenny G" jazz is killing good food and jazz. Tis a shame. Ponder, 0 calories!

Metaphysical poetry: [subtexting] [explicit]

Your love is like a refrigerator.

I want to put my goodies in it.

Good night,