Moon Base Boss

joebirden:

all I want for my birthday is for not one more episode of House to ever appear on television

Joe Brainard Birthday

mayacosby:

for Joe Thel

I remember walking to the bus stop at UMass Amherst when it was too cold to walk anywhere. I remember walking back with you. I remember talking about wallets and falling asleep (later, much later) watching Samurai Champloo. I remember the excitement over onion rings in the morning. I remember looking at paintings by beautiful painter John McNaughton and wondering how anyone could fold their racism into their illiberalism by saying Barack Obama Eats Dog Meat. I hate the president too, it’s just—I just—

I remember talking a lot about Drake before you left Ridgefield Park in March. I remember “Started from the bottom, I’m a duck” and “Started from the bottom, now I’m dead.” I remember sheepishly thinking the beat to the song was pretty good and not wanting to say anything to anyone because I thought we were all Against it in an ideological, capitalize-the-first-letter-of-Against kind of way. I remember buffalo chicken pizza and Madoka. I remember old fashioneds with brown sugar, how everyone was disgusted and no one not in love. I remember never being able to shake the fact that Drake was on Degrassi before he had a rap career. I remember Last Name Ever, First Name Lacking A Historical Imagination Or A Sense Of One’s Moment. You know the deal.

I remember saying I’d write this in two hours at 12:10 a.m. It’s 2:31. I remember wanting to stay up all night like the other night I stayed up all night with Casey in Amherst, except I remember then staring at a wall and now I want to tell you I’m alive and you are too and I love you! I remember trying to find a form for this nonsense and settling on an old one. I remember reading Ron Padgett talking about remembering in an I Remember format. I remember worrying everything I wrote would be sentimental and opening a new word document. I remember wanting to please you, the reader, while simultaneously being applauded for my socially useful skills. I remember thinking drinking was a skill. This was all pretty recently so I remember presently I feel like I’m cheating.

I remember settling on Joe Brainard as a mediation of my relationship with you because I wanted something fun and hopefully poignant and performative, too. I remember talking about oboes on the way into town when we missed the bus and had to walk again. I remember wishing you didn’t have to leave. I remember Chuck and the last-minute Boston arrangements. I remember Fist Of The North Star and lo mein. I remember, and this I remember vividly, the same picture of you severally posted on Tumblr, you a little anxious and we wanting to kiss you the whole time, Skyler and me. I remember Skyler’s bad math. I remember Skyler’s dad math. I remember thinking solidarity as an extension of a dad-related problematic.

I remember but not entirely telling you an important story at 5 a.m. after finishing two bottles of whiskey with Skyler. I remember dropping a chicken wing in a glass of whiskey. I remember listening to Avril Lavigne at 4:30 a.m. I remember being afraid you wouldn’t like this poem, which I wasn’t sure if it was remembering because it’s happening now. I remember talking about Mad Men and whiskey on Facebook in July, our first conversation. I remember sending videos, hungover, to each other early in February. I remember grilled cheese and “to the free market!”.

I remember asking you to give me more time to write. I remember wondering if I would need more time to write because if I can’t do it now I’m going to make something up and hate myself even if you’re happy. I remember caring more about you being happy than me and my social whatever I said they were. I remember not knowing if that was a true claim or not. I remember before you knew Justine, you were Skyler and David’s friend and how funny that is now! and perfect!

I remember listening to Solange’s instrumentals only by mistake for hours. I remember Peter Pan Bus’s website not working, having to pay more for a ticket, coming into my own saying I’m a monster and meaning it and drinking coffee when it was about to snow. I remember sitting outside on my back porch with Casey feeling bad I hadn’t sat outside with you but it was February then. I remember Line Play. I remember Grey Matter Books with its piles of “Marxism” now all organized and astute. I remember half speed Glee version of “Gangnam Style” hung over picking at half a calzone. I remember posting for the fans.

I remember wishing a poem could go on forever, especially one for you. I remember thinking that was a dumb fucking sentence to write, I’m going to brush my teeth and then delete it. I remember all the attendant anxieties of the day getting sort of swept away from me by a few outlandish sentiments. I remember not knowing how to write and doing it anyway. I remember baby, dream your dream. I remember having a lot of Yuengling and wishing our conversation in a bar down the street from Alice and Zach’s I forget the name of would never end, and in a sense it hasn’t and I’m doing a little better because I’m sober but at the same time I want to bring you these chips and shout useful obscenities into the sun. And mean it. I remember not knowing if you like salt and vinegar though, so giving up, but lovingly, and tasteful, I hope.  

the difference between pizza and your opinion is that i asked for pizza

(Source: anotherbadpoem, via pizzavanguard)

anecdotal evidence holds no water in a debate setting *drinks own piss, seems fine with it*

all I want for my birthday is for not one more episode of House to ever appear on television

Please Read

probably the best thing about lofter is when you wanna reblog you click “copyright”

nobody wished me happy birthday on lofter this is bullshit

sorry guys but its time. to get real on tumblr