[274] Screed City
[274]
01/04/2024 Thursday. Papers Box. Crisis INC HQ. Ridgewood, NY
New yoi, new moi!
Guess I start a new politics thing for the upcoming election. Just kidding! I said, my bad! Just drove back to the City and boy is my middle finger exhausted. Jerks galore! Everywhere jerks. Happy to be back! Vom was a wild ride. Junior Mint has a new flex pipe. $287. Ugh. The gift that keeps on taking. G came up. With Romeo, their dog. Paddington came around for a few days. I had prime rib twice. The hot tub pipes froze. It snowed one time. There was an early mud season that caused the road that leads to the house to become almost untravellable. Professor Curly bought me new Blundstones for XMAS. Black. I got her a sweet pair of Uggs. Met the new neighbors, we had snacks last night. The husband is a sound engineer and told us all the gossip about the Mad River Radio station. The one that Screed City Radio was supposed to be on. I told him about how the guy that runs the place said the N-word twice when I met him and how he was anti-vaxx. He said that he wasn't racist. I said I didn't think he was being racist that he was just making a point about free speech in a very inappropriate way. They have two cows and the husband skinny dips with Judy Wood, the chain smoking miscreant menace to Vermont society.
[Insert Romeo Photo]
Jess came up. We went to Montpelier and visited with Theresa. Professor Curly's film is going to the film festival there in March. Both Jess and G are studying to get their driver's licenses. I showed them the route I took, twice, when I got mine back in 2021. We went to a pet store. Ate lunch at the COOP. Where, if you remember, back when Montpelier had Joey Truman Day, I made breakfast burritos. Everyone clapped when I came in. "Glad to see you back, mister Truman!" I bowed and they gave me a free lunch. Just joking. Some jerk got mad at me in the parking lot for driving wrong and almost crashed his car into PC's REW. Montpelier is a little on edge at the moment. For good reason. The place floods more then Noah's housewarming party. You know? From the Bible? [Italics]
Whiskey Tit got a great right up in the weekly. The Publisher is a "Publishing Powerhouse." I even get quoted. Wikipedia here we come!
[Insert Seven Days Article]
https://m.sevendaysvt.com/arts-culture/hancocks-whiskey-tit-press-publishes-books-no-one-else-will-39776263
I don't know what else. It was great to see everyone. My feelings about Vermont are very complex. One second I love it, the next I want to rip it's little rhubarb nipples from it's muddy ground and shove them in a mud hole. Sure is pretty though. Went to Taco Tuesday at the hotel in Hancock. Dante is sleeping with M's daughter. He is 30, she is 15. That is really gross. He checked out G and PC when we were paying our bill. That was pretty gross. I should have punched his chops off but he is a Sovereign Citizen, so he would have sued me for violating his freedoms. His time is coming. There is no doubt about it. I know guys like him, there are plenty of them in Wyoming. They get what's coming to them. Soon and multiple times.
We went to New Ham to visit with Professor Curly's dad, Dianne and Anne. We ate Chinese food. It was quite tasty. Scallion pancakes. Fried dumplings. General Tso's chicken. Beef and green beans. Cucumber rolls. [Not Chinese, but on the menu.] Mango shrimp. Fried rice, brown rice, white rice. Hot mustard and chili oil. I ate so much hot mustard I could have snorted a gram of cocaine in one go my sinuses were so clear. Not that anyone had any cocaine. Typical. Dianne gave G a bunch of rocks she had painted faces on. One ended up on PC's dashboard. A couple ended up in the Chalet. The rest went back to Old Chatham with G.
What else? A million things. My studio at the Chalet is great. The wood stove, top notch. Although the wood I have to use is quite small so I have to sort through the wood pile which always gives me PTSD from when me and Chris Gill were playing on the wood pile in Worland when we were like 11 and his father, the future mayor of Worland, told us not to play around on the wood pile, and we played around on the wood pile and Chris got stuck under a log and I had to go get the future mayor because I was too wimpy to get him free and Jim was pissed and now, every time I mess around with a wood pile I think back to when I was 11.
I have been writing a novel where a guy survives a plan crash, flies an eagle to the ground and kills a mountain lion with his bare hands. It's a love story. See, Mom, it's not all doom and gloom. Speaking of which, my mom sent us all eagle leg knee socks for XMAS.
Scott and the Publisher and Grit came over for New Years Eve. Sans hot tub. Sadly. But I did get the grill going. Made some skewers. Shrimp, peppers, onions, mushrooms. I had a cold beef that got slived up real slender. There was a ham I had been brewing for a few days that was delicious but nobody ate because there was so many other things to eat. Cheeses, crackers, asparagus, squash. Onion dip. Oddly, we managed to stay up until midnight. Not together, naturally, but G and PC kept the party going on our side and Grit kept the party going on their side.
What else? G slept the entire drive from Lower Granville to Old Chatham today. Big surprise. Romeo stared at me for most of the trip. I don't know why. His paws on the arm rest. I kept saying: "Romeo, it's an arm rest, not a paws rest, give me some room!" He did not give me some room. He stared at me with his big, dumb, oddly all-knowing eyes and I couldn't stay mad. Not that I was mad, but I was driving and G was sleeping and I wanted to rest my elbow. I guess it wasn't an elbow rest either.
There was no traffic coming into the City. Can you believe it? The thing on my phone kept saying there was going to be traffic but there was no traffic. I mean, traffic. You want to know my problem with traffic? It's not what you think. Can you guess? It's pretty stupid. The reason that me and PC get into arguments sometimes. I am a big picture kind of guy and she is a realistic, pragmatic and local kind of bro. Half the time I am yelling, "I said, my bad!" and she is yelling, "No, you didn't!" But it goes like this:
Pulp Fiction. [Italics] Remember that movie? Remember how they killed that poor kid and have to clean up his dead body from the back seat of the car and Harvey Kietel is a dick? But then he is like, "I drive fast, try to keep up." And he zips through LA traffic like it doesn't exist. And they have to follow him through stop lights and stuff with a dead body in the trunk and not get pulled over? That is my problem with traffic. That macho, there has to be a way to circumvent this thing that everything is going through if only we just have enough hubris we can somehow live in a different dimension and not have to deal with traffic. I mean, Pulp Fiction doesn't need to be real, but that scene, I am sorry, it is unnecessary and rips me out of the movie. It is garbage. One time I saw George Castansa on the Major Deegan. Driving north. Stuck in traffic. And this was when Seinfeld was still on air! One of the most famous people in America at the time, and to this day, stuck in traffic and you want me to believe that somehow that Harvey Kietel can will himself, plus another car with a dead body in the trunk, somehow through what is very well known to be some of the worst traffic in America just because Tarantino writes it in a script? I mean, I guess it is magical realism, but I don't think it is supposed to be.
Anyway, I am thinking I might write a screenplay about Hitler when he was in the first world war. I got the idea when I was stuck in traffic. Young Hitler [Italics] like Young Einstein [Italics.] But instead of Hitler figuring out how to put bubbles in beer he will be obsessed with... I am serious, in a way, the screenplay will not be a comedy, but since this the New Yoi, we should circle back to the beginning, New Moi, I am going to finish this novel about love and instead of writing any new novels this year I am going to write this one screen play that will be so dark that I will end up getting arrested because of it. Maybe not arrested, but shunned. Which! 3====>
One last thought: You're not cancelled, it's just nobody wants to hear what you have to say. What you are is unpopular.
[Insert Zombie Nation]
I love this song, but nobody else does. Cancel me once, shame on me, cancel me twice, shame on you!
I SAID, MY BAD!
HAPPY NOI YOI!!!