A Vacation in Colors; pt.1

On a side note…I wrote a song tonight that is going to be on EVERYONE’S playlist in 2007. It’s called…

(I Took the) Headphones Out of Your Butthole

Airports, airports, airports. I will never get used to them. HUGE cylindrical houses of danger, doom, and prevention. The man behind me couldn’t understand why he couldn’t bring a knife larger then anything I’ve used to cut down a tree onto the plane. I watched and laughed as I re-laced my boots. I then grabbed an “Italian Chicken Wrap” and ran to the plane. Looking out the window, I got infuriated at the business men who travel all the time and can’t get off their PDAs, etc., to look at the clouds. Arriving in Atlanta, I was amazed at the size of the port…there are trains to take you from terminal A to B to C to D. I walked from C to B. It was long and hot but better than waiting for the train. It was so small that I expected Ronald McDonald to be the engineer. I smoked next to a 3-year-old and boarded my flight to Charlotte.

“Everyone should have that sticker on their bag,” said the passing business man missing his front teeth. I agreed. The sticker said, simply, “Slayer”. “You get into Lombardo’s other shit?”
“You seen (sic) Fantomas?”
“No. I was supposed to. I missed it, though. I did see Tomahawk.” That was a lie. I just wanted to talk to him.
“Aw, yeah. Tomahawk’s sick. I was listenin’ to “God Hates Us All” earlier today. Ooooooh…,” and he swirled his head around to display his into-it-ness. I smiled and drug my cigarette in appreciation. “Later, bro,” he said as he abruptly walked away. I nodded and waited for Lil’ Knuckles to show up.

She did just that in a Volvo. I’ve never seen her in anything but a Blue Line train. It was funny and welcoming. Driving up, she looked like a Van Halen teacher. We hugged a warm embrace and ventured into the city. Charlotte, North Carolina.

“You mind if I change before we go to dinner?”
She lights a Parliament and I follow suit with a cigarette of my own. “So, how have you been?”
“Me, too.”
We eat at a dive bar/wonderful restaurant. The recipes were given to us by the waitress by just asking and the bill was paid with currency that would cover only cab fare in Chicago. We buy big bottles of fru-fru beer and hop into the car.

“What in the hell are you doin’?” she asks as we drive down a residential street.
I look around me and realize that I’m doing nothing. “Nothing.”
“You’re in the south…crack one of those.”
“REALLY?!” I was happy to drink WHILE driving. While passing the Duvel to and fro, she told me about the bank executives freaking out and killing their kids. “Three this month,” she said. I smiled and looked at the mansions and drank.
Twins bleeding and Executives crying. Trophys wondering and watches coughing blood. Ties traded for shackles…the easiness of everything filled me with glee.
Pulling down the bottle for passing headlights, we drank ourselves into conversation. Warm air Volvoing into my nose and yummy Duvelling into my stomach. “This is great!” she said. I guffawed in agreeance.
We arrived at Magnolia Apartments and I promptly called Josh, one of Lil’ Knuckles admirers. He was flabbergasted to talk to her. “Donkey Dick” and “slobberjaw” came from her lips and I could do nothing but smile. It was truly wonderful. We were to retire to the back porch to enjoy the fru in 75 degree weather.

The subject remained the same…and it is the same subject that permeates my noggin 24/7…love and the effects. She informed me of Jason. I asked when he went gray and she said fourth grade. I smiled. I informed her of green pants. She asked and I attempted to answer. We blasted Bill Fay and talked about everything under the stars.


Apple shows up on a bike with friend. A hug ensues and I am reminded that she is amzing with words and style. Wonderfully beautiful and never one to be left empty-tongued. She arched her eyebrows for some shots and then left with a trail of W.A.F.F. (Will Always Fart First). Fucking hussy.

The smiles couldn’t be taken off with gasoline.

3 Responses to “A Vacation in Colors; pt.1”
  1. knucks says:

    thanks for leaving out the part about me puking and you hanging out in a sheraton pool hall :/

  2. slurredpress says:

    First I was A.P. and now I’m W.A.F.F.

    What’s next and *H.I.T.W.D.Y.E.M.T.R.A.T.A?

    The last paragraph made me want to laugh, cry, and punch you in the eye. Thanks, Lucas.

    *how in the world do you expect me to remember all these acronyms?

  3. Maximus says:

    I would like to see a continuation of the topic

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