writers in their element, yo

imagine if writing this shit was a cinch
props to the brilliance that is "i pinch"

funny funny ha ha

mon d-day

they say that winners never quit
and quitters never win
but my friend who quit work today
can't hide that massive grin.

sundazed.

as the playbacks played back - it was dark, it was night
the sides had been picked: go go, start the fight
it's a blitz -- it's a taste test in aspirin based fusion
standing knee-deep in this heated illusion.

hits spinning loudly round quarter to three
he's a paranoid lad, he won't tolerate me
if the flips would materialize, there'd be naught to fear
and her mind foams up like the head on her beer.

superkeen on my daily routine

An anticon-tinental breakfast starts the day off right:
Perfect for the most discerning appetite.

Mid-day realization that all my headlines are bad,
So i get some pointers from an old comrade.

Finally slap down some copy when push comes to shove,
And spend the rest of the day falling in punch-crunk-love.

rock out with your ad clock out

timesheets timesheets, why doth thou torture me so
with your dockets and numbers and complex codes?
you rudely expose my true calling as a creative ho,
paid to write enough silly lines to pave all life's roads.

my professional days are defined by billable time:
this week i've been assigned a good fifty seven hours,
to pen whiny self-indulgent little poems that rhyme,
i mean, clever one-liners about torque and horsepower.

so every monday i struggle with the formidable Ad-Clock
and pray that this week my time sheets don't get rejected
after all, along with all the brilliance and eurekas! and smart talk
a little (i mean, alot) of thumb-twiddling better be expected.

for those in need of distraction on a rainy day - voila, a brief chicago photo-essay

lusting after tractors like a soviet filmmaker

seeing the world through unstylish glasses

tilt-a-whirling down the alleys of my dreams

for once i'll be dutiful & admit that advertising can be beautiful.

b-b-b-bounce down san fran streets to a very purty cover of the knife's "heartbeats"

killer parties

toronto seemed tired last night
hoodies zipped high, ponytails tight
everyone putting up a fight fight fight
to be seen by scenesters on the scenester scene
to look hot while trying to feel the music and preen
to be the biggest constantines fan on the block
and in doing so, ignore some other saviors of rock.
beer-soaked witticisms shouted by a scratchy voiced geek
and when he exposed toronto as a soulless scenester town --
it made my week.

the review from here.

My my, let me update on what is new

Well, i finally got my annual review
Yeah, the one that was 3 decades overdue
Of course, what they told me, I'm not sposed to say,
And though i should live by the ad-motto: "Self-serve, don't Obey"
I won't breach confidence: instead i'll put it this way:

I am no longer a junior writer, it's true--
But i still make less than you do.

Gossip's still loud, Complaints are still muffled
And all the creative teams have been re-shuffled
My time pushing pills and selling laptops is done
And the era of verbally pimping Cars has begun
Wanna know my experience driving? How about none?!

So there's my brief update - life has been in flux
I'm a real big writer making real big bucks
To weave glorious fantasies about sedans and trucks.