Sun Is A Tank On Fire

   "14,000 of these were made just last month. Do you know how many of those 14,000 were properly fucked before finding their way into a landfill?" Edgar was walking along the sidewalk with his right arm extended out in front of him as he spoke. Grasped in his hand was a rubber dildo flopping at both ends with every step he took. It's coloration was eggshell brown and it had a remarkable vein protruding down the length of the shaft. A detailed specimen indeed. The damn thing looked like a real dick, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to smack it out of his hand. I pictured it rotating through the air, balls over shaft over balls, and out into the street, bouncing across the pavement.    But I didn't slap it, instead I answered, "14,000 seems like a high estimate for a month's worth of rubber cock, where did you hear that?" Behind us a car slowed and cruised up next to us. It was a green Fairlane, probably late 60's. I remember my f...

Edgar sat there at the table staring at the empty chair across from him. He spun the white mocha coffee around in his restless hands, glancing frequently at the door of the women's bathroom wondering when it would open again. He gathered too much momentum and warm brown sludge spurted out the sip hole of the plastic lid, making a small mess on his hand and the table. "Fuck all" he murmured as he reached for a napkin. He was just at this same airport seven days ago, sitting almost in the exact same spot, but it was much different then. She hadn't landed yet, she was still 45 minutes up in the air. Everything was safe then, time wasn't careening out of control. He remembered the text messages and emails sent from phone to phone, inbox to inbox, for almost a month leading up to her final approach. It was fun talking about her pussy in poetry, comparing it to a small hole in the side of a dam. There were many clever exchanges between them, all friendly and invitin...

A few nights ago I cheated on Ringo's with a bar downtown. I didn't plan to, it was quite unexpected really. I had every intention on seeing Ringo's that night, I even called and said I was coming and said to put something sexy on, but then I got tempted by unforeseen forces. The next thing I knew I was walking around the interior of a new place, checking out her sweet spots, feeling up her billiard tables, admiring the wide open space and enjoying the feeling of something new. Guilt, you ask? Yes there was some guilt. I knew Ringo's was probably wondering where I was, constantly checking the phone for missed calls.. nothing. Ugh, how terrible of me. I've been cheated on recently, so I, of all people, should know better! I can't believe I did this, will Ringo's ever forgive me? I hope so, it's so much closer to where I live. Pretty nice, right? Now can you see why I cheated? Shame on you for siding with me and making me feel better about what I did...

I'm spending my July 4th indoors relaxing, meditating, listening to Snatam Kaur. Over the past several weeks I have put my body and mind through too much, I try too hard at too many things. I have the constant thought that tomorrow may be the end, so my brain works overtime thinking about all the things I haven't done yet, or the beauty I've yet to see. This is especially burdensome when trying to sleep at night, lots of restlessness and tossing and turning, staring at the dimly lit ceiling while the chatter in my head continues throughout the night. I think I need Ambien. Or a heavy hammer. Either way. I've noticed lately when I write I have to frequently backspace and correct simple mistakes, like switching two letters around or misspelling easy words. So today I meditate, calm the brain, soothe the soul. Iron out the wrinkles a little bit. I need a reset. Technology amazes me, even the simplest forms of it. Take music, for example. Right now I am listening to mus...

I have a list of things I need to do more of, and that list looks like this: 1.) photography walk-abouts 2.) read novels 3.) exercise 4.) write short stories 5.) remember birthdays 6.) be happier 7.) save money 8.) drink more water 9.) drink less liquor 10.) finish watching Battlestar Galactica 11.) build dvd shelves There is nothing wrong with this list, it's easily achievable. All I gotta do is focus on #9 and the rest is easy! Haha, speaking of which.. I bought a 7 dollar bottle of Mojito mixer to accompany my fifth of Monopolowa Vodka and let me tell you... yum! I like 'em. I've been knocking back Gin & Tonics for so long I forgot how tasty other drinks can be. Now, let's discuss #2 on the list. I recently started reading a book that I think is going to be eye opening. I'm only on chapter 2 and already I'm discovering some very intriguing things about the many varying factors of what creates successful people. The book I'm reading is:...

"I'm so hungry right now I could eat my right arm and possibly part of the left." Edgar thought as he staggered along the sidewalk that joined Center Street. It was a typical Saturday night in Salem, wet and unyielding, a displeasure to the senses. The entire consciousness of the planet spoke to him as he walked on, buzzed by a local home brew offered to him earlier that night. Just ahead a cat darted out from behind a dumpster and tore off across the street, nearly flattened by oncoming traffic. Edgar watched as a blue Nissan skidded slightly in response to the instinctive (but wrong) brake tapping on wet roads. The driver, unaware of the proper actions associated with safe driving, freaked out from the sudden loss of control and over-corrected by steering sharply to the right, which sent the sedan bouncing onto the sidewalk and into a United States Post Office mailbox. You know, one of those big blue ones, sturdy steel bolted four inches into the concrete. "J...

It didn't take long for things to heat up in Salem, wow! And boy is it hot in my upstairs half of this old house. I'm telling ya, just sitting still produces sweat. It's miserable, like over 100 degrees of misery inside and around 82 degrees outside. I have quickly figured out that living here through the summer will be impossible without one of those portable AC units. I've already price checked them and I'm looking at 400 bucks for one that will properly fend off the invasive heat. My plan is to resell the sofa and love seat (hopefully over the weekend to a coworker) and use the money to buy the AC. It's so hot I'm falling asleep while typing this. I have a box fan situated about 8 feet away and it feels like a dog panting on me. There are zero shade trees here and the sun is baking this house from the outside in. I am being cooked. Here's the furniture set that I bought and can't use: Pretty nice, huh? It's gonna look great in someone else...

new path by Mick Tomlinson and so I wonder as I sit there pounding out my feelings ten syllables at a time, elbows dug into armrests, thoughts dropping like acid. she is a nice lady, she studied overseas where gold kept a country out of war, where Jung sought new areas to explore. these will be the days these will be the days the scent of a chemical toilet, that's the smell of self discovery. I'm diving in deep, I am thin and filthy and full of secrets, I'm trying to get clean. across from me she listens intently, constantly scribbling little mysteries into her notebook. she is thin and pretty and full of secrets- I'm one of them. I've got raisins in my pocket for the dog next door, the one that never bites, but looks stupidly up at trees, waiting for birds to fly. he prefers raisins over dog food, which is good because I can't stand the smell of dog food-flavored pockets. the only thing worse, maybe, is the smell of a chemical toilet.

I got pulled for a random U.A. at work today, balls. Now, before I tell you why this drug test turned into a big deal I'll begin by saying that once upon a time I used to sweat these kind of tests for real. Yes, ladies and gentlefuckers, I used to smoke weed. A lot. It seems like forever and a day ago since the last time I blazed up, but I used to smoke copious amounts of bud every single day. The heck, I used to buy so much that I'd sell bags to my friends. I guess that sort of means I used to be a drug dealer too, imagine that. I'm pretty sure this revelation would blow the minds of my current coworkers, I have a feeling none of them have even been into a fist fight, and here I come along, Mr. Rebel Without A Cause, here to disrupt their good senses with my hard elbow to the throat of society. Sometimes I wonder what they really think about me. Wow, how was that for a derail of thought? Ok, back to my story. So I got selected to piss into a cup after work today. Hey, no...

I'm a little disappointed that I wasn't able to get my new furniture moved in beforehand. I scored an amazing deal on a sofa and love seat off of Craigslist. A rich family in South Salem purchased a $3,600 living room set not too long ago and it just so happens their son is allergic to down, so they decided to sell the set dirt cheap: $600. I looked at the pictures and I couldn't believe they were really selling them for so little, so I emailed the guy and low-balled him to 550, lol. Yesterday I was supposed to meet him at noon with the money, but I ran into a problem- my bank ATM would only allow me to get 500 bucks out. After that I was denied withdraws from every bank ATM. So I showed up at his house and explained the situation. He was really nice about it and let me put a cash deposit down (with a written receipt) and is holding it until Monday. I'll take new pictures of my place once I get the new furniture moved in. It's almost 1 o'clock and my friend w...

Last week was partly shitty with scattered fun throughout. My work week started off rather badly and gradually worsened, here's why. On Monday I was scheduled to do deliveries, and for those of you not in the bizz, that means I drove around in a pick-up truck with a trailer delivering (or bringing in) garbage cans (etc) to customers. On one of my stops I was supposed to bring in a 1 yard container that a customer no longer needed. Well the damn thing was completely full of garbage and it weighed more than John & Kate plus 8's entire family combined, including pets. Being the stubborn individual that I am, I attempted to wheel it onto the trailer fully loaded (instead of waiting for my co-worker to empty it first). Bad idea. During my second attempt I felt my lower back muscle tighten into a knot and frown. It was mad at me, but the feeling was mutual. It was all my fault though, I should definitely work out more. Throughout the rest of the week I had to drive around in a...

new place by Mick Tomlinson I'm in this new place now surrounded by clocks and bricks and mortar and time, all falling apart while looking good in the process. they built it up just so they could watch it go down, and in the meantime I will come here Mon-Thurs like a puppy to the puddle to play and all the others will come here too. we will dance on fire center stage, we will bastardize the microphone, we will fuck the Wives of the Willamette (WOW!) and sit very quietly afterwards. all of this is meaningless unless of course you're me sitting here in this seamless dream waiting for someone to shake you awake, waiting for the table to crash under the weight of two ancient elbows. you see, I'm in this new place now wondering when it will happen.

We're getting a Five Guys Burgers And Fries here in Salem and I don't know why, but I'm a little excited. I try hard to steer clear of fast food, but after seeing multiple businesses leave Lancaster Dr, it's kind of refreshing to see one move in. The place looked very open when I drove by yesterday, so I stopped and went in. I was quickly greeted by an older gentleman (probably the owner) in a Five Guys t-shirt who promptly told me the grand opening wasn't until Wednesday. I said, "Okay, but yo mama told me differently last night." He stared at me straight-faced, unamused. I don't think he's aware that Yo Mama jokes NEVER get old. EVER. Sigh.. Another new business opened up downtown, and this place I'm truly excited about. It's called Clockworks Cafe and it's going to be a happening place once it gets its shit together. The interior design is fantastic, very clean and artistic with a town centre feel to it. Giant clocks on the walls a...

It's Sunday morning, scratch that, it's practically the afternoon already. I'm sitting on my couch in my 'night before' clothes relaxing, checking email, listening to a great playlist at 8tracks.com , a mixture of The clash, Talking Heads, Stone Roses, A-Ha, Depeche Mode, etc. I must confess, these are bands I never really got into, not because I don't like them, simply because I just never did. I'm listening to them now thinking, "hot damn, this is great music!". Especially for a semi-cloudy Sunday afternoon. 8tracks.com is a great way to find new (or old) music, so if you haven't been there go check it out. Good times indeed. Oh and while I'm the subject of ways to find and listen to music, another fantastic option is using the iTunes radio feature. There are bookoos of great stations, all divided up by genre, all free and streaming live and commercial free. One of my absolute favorite stations is GotRadio - Guitar Genius (found in ambien...

last run by Mick Tomlinson I chased you around the block screaming, "DEATH TO SMOOCHY!" (because that was your favorite movie) and all the tattoo'd freaks on 15th and Pearl watched us go by, first your bra and then your panties separated by time like a suicidal desk clerk. I tripped near Market Street and collided with concrete as my knife skidded across the sidewalk and into the street. we both stopped running, the charade was over. our lives went into the wild and there was no reason to continue. I walked with you around the block knowing this would be the last time our hips would pivot in close proximity. I put my arm around you, felt your sweat graduate to my nose. "You know, I'm really gonna miss you when this is over." "Let's not let it be over." we stopped. I watched as you unlocked your door and went inside, opened the window blinds and watched me walk away, forever.

He stared at the light socket for what must have been at least ten minutes waiting for a brown beetle to crawl back out, the entire time taking hits from his pint of cold Hammerhead IPA. Earlier he spotted three of them, hardened and determined, traveling from the exterior of his world into the interior of their own via that outlet. He knew eventually they must come back out.. they always come back out, don't they? "Goddamn, they might have it made in there" he said aloud as the bartender noisily rearranged a nearby rack of Collins glasses. "I bet twenty on red they got themselves a beautiful set-up, a nest of extraordinary comforts that they call home. Nobody giving them any shit." The bartender went about his business as if nothing was said. He was used to this, every single night. He learned how to use the left side of his back to do all the talking when customers like Edgar began their drunken rants. He was a pro, a professional, and he never let an empty...

I haven't been around for awhile, several weeks actually. Went through another rough patch in my life (yet again) and was without Internet, thus no blogging. I was also without a home, had to sleep in my car and on friends' couches (sometimes beanbags). But hey, I got through it and now I'm officially relocated into my new place. It's been pretty fun putting the new apartment together, especially since everything happened so fast and unexpectedly. I basically had to start over from scratch. I didn't even have a bed, but within several days I've managed to scrape together an okay start and things are looking better. The many local thrift stores here in town have become my new best friend. I hit them up daily looking for interesting things to add to my place. For example, the miniature bowling game shown in the picture above I found for only 6 dollars. It's a fantastic little find, and it totally works! And it looks pretty cool on display with the other stu...

Hey guess what, I've recently added a new peeve to my list of pet peeves. Life was much more peaceful before I started noticing this new annoyance, mainly because there is a fairly large percentage of humans who do it, but it only occurs when it rains and since I live in the Pacific Northwest it rains a lot, which in turn means this pet peeve is an everyday occurrence. Great, that's just what I need. As if I don't complain enough as it is! So check it out, here's what bothers me now: Can you believe it? I know, I know, I'm terrible and inexcusable and I completely denounce and reject myself for this abnormal behavior, but I'm telling you it bugs me so much! It drives me crazy to see parked cars with windshield wipers left in "motion". I can't help but wonder which social behavior studies can be applied to this pet peeve of mine. What does this say about the person (if anything at all)? Does the person notice the wipers in the upr...

therapy by Mick Tomlinson while I type this poem a president speaks to his troops behind me on the TV wearing the same bomber jacket the president before him wore, saying the same damn things to the same ol' ears about the same damn guns and the same ol' wars. he makes promises he can't keep, while I make another vodka tonic that I intend to drink. and to think, I'm the one considering therapy.