Atmosphere = Poetry

These warehouse wages
Kill the ends introduction
man I should have schooled it up
When I was younger should have stuck to plan
Always had the dreams of being more self assertive
And my kids a teenager now he needs the health insurance
So break my body
Break break my soul down
Just another zombie walking blindly through your ghost town
Pull up to the bar to politic and tap the power
Aint nobody really all that jolly at your happy hour
But I don’t want to go home yet
So I’m gonna talk to my cigarette
And that television set
It doesn’t matter what brand or station
Anything to take away from the current situation

No overtime pay no holiday
Months behind on everything but the lottery
Went around the corner guaranteeing that my car died
Wifey having trouble trying to juggle both the part times
My cup aint close to filled up
We trying to build up so we can have enough
And when I finally get the color
There won’t be nothing left to paint on
A friend of mine tried to kill himself to the same song

My better half is mad at making magic out of canned goods
My tax bracket status gotta questioning my man hood
My shorty got caught smoking weed at a concert
And if I smack em everybody treats me like a monster
My neighbors aint doing much better
And we making competition instead of sticking together
Cant save no nest egg in fact this nest is rented
In fact that rent is late, wait
The money aint here the raise aint coming
Just me and my son and that crazy woman
And those bartenders this whole fucking country
Got everybody swallowing that lunch meat
Maybe we can speed up the process
Kill me in my thirties in the name of progress
Put me in the dirt and then change the topic
Some time it seems like the only way to stop it
Contemplate my departure date
Doesn’t take a lot to get a lot of us to talk this way
Take a shot at me that's all i'm obligated for
Apparently my only guarantee is a walk away

The only guarantee in life is a life worth dying for
The only guarantee in life is a life worth dying for
Cause death don’t wait for no one
Sitting on your front door
The only guarantee in life is a life worth dying for
Cause death don’t wait for no one
Sitting on your front door

Buenas.

It's early, I was up late, but I obviously didn't have that hard a night last night because I'm online, and it's early. The internet here is outrageously expensive and half the keys on here feel like they are weightless and the other half are stiffer than a.... drink I'd make you. You thought I was going to say something perverted, didn't you. Get your mind out of the gutter you filthy filthy animal.

Resort is cool, massive, gated, the only americans here are these jersey accented douchebags who are just walking caricatures of themselves. I swear, you couldn't write these morons better, and there is a whole family. It's like having a very loud, very annoying sitcom on wherever they are. The loud nasaly obnoxiously self righteous bitch of a mother. The numerous -somewhat obese and kinda balding but blissfully unaware in their own personal bubble of ego how unbelievably unattractive they are to everyone outside jersey- sons, cousins, and various other "bro's". The wives that just sit around looking like inside they are starting to realize what a mistake they made as the look around a see all the other happy couples not ruining everyone's day, and the kids. I feel sorry for the kids hahaha The only problem is that to turn them off, you have to just move. Thankfully the resort is huge. They obviously provide some entertainment which is needed because there aren't many people our age here, who are of any use. By this i mean single attractive women, or groups of them. There are however numerous pairs of the most outrageously hot girl gross friend pairs I've seen anywhere... and more. It's like the pick up kamakazis worst nightmare. The grenades are at times, so big they actually look dangerous, but the friend of the grenade, very good, so you know there is a chance you'll have to risk death by slow gross sweaty asphyxiation for your mates sake. It's like going to war in the evening. We're hoping that things will improve in that department.

Everything else, is dandy like Sandy. I don't know sandy, but her name rhymes, so I would assume she is indeed dandy. Foods is pretty damn good for an AI, they make any type of drink there is, top shelf liquors.. nice.

I'll check in if I haven't been taken out by a very unfortunate mission leaves me but an imprint on a matress somewhere, the victim of taking one ofr the team gone wrong.

More average poetry. Unedited. Untitled.

Hugged between two small pillows
Hips relaxed enough to let the senses guide
The dull roar of great bay waves churning rocks like butter beneath frigid thin black
White tops glisten under the clouded moonlight
Brandy tipped smoke wafts upwards
Peace lives here in the confusing beauty
Fire licks furiously at all walls imprisoning it
Spitting heat
Escaping upwards like gasps of rekindled lovers long thought lost
Cracks mash with waves and blend to silence
Icy flows of sleepy tonic
Heavy eyes and romanticized thoughts of history
Snapped back by unnecessarily descriptive prose of horrors past
Forcing uncomfortable admissions of truth
Lonely moments realized
Love lives in these tattered walls
Happiness lies in the carpet strains, stained with the liquids of good times
If love were a location
I’d be in it

The best.

The best have always -and will always- come from struggle.
For fear to you is dollars and cents
Bank accounts and rent
Mortgage payments and savings spent
They've got:
Murderous callers and life defense
Black money vig to circumvent
Just staying alive in any event

Become her Drill-O-saur!

Spam, we all hate it, but recently the spammasters have been getting so creative that they border on hilarious. I'll add any I find funny enough to warrant 1 minute of my time, on here. I may also combine some into my own version of spam poetry / story telling.

Become her drillosaur!

You can have stronger bone-on!

I love to bang her! For heroic manliness!

Sundays midnight

This probably won't make sense. I felt like typing a stream of consciousness.

It's zero out, snow fell by the lake today but only a few flakes, which looked like those pieces of styrofoam that get everywhere when you unpack a box too quickly, too rough because you are excited abut whatever is inside. They felt like that too but cold. Styrofoam never feels cold, it's always the same temperature, level. The sound and feel of it makes me tighten up like awkward comedy.

My blankets are high threat Egyptian cotton, and a cheesy colour of maroon like some 80's movie pimp would have. They are warm and comfortable but tonight I'd sleep without them if i had someone to replace them with. That would end up cold, but only in temperature, and cold is better than neutral, like styrofoam.

I miss Candice and Amy. It's funny how that is, considering over the last many number of years I've seen them both only a small percentage of the time, but female companionment with people i care that much about is like sex. If you haven't had if for long enough, you eventually stop wanting it as much, but then you get sweet session and you crave it like sushi.

Sashimi is the only food that could give someone a remotely comparable experience texture wise as what they should expect when going down on someone of the fairer sex. They'd have to warm it first, and maybe garnish with a touch of oil.

Fuck american pie, raw salmon baby.

That shit was disgusting, but why censor it, I don't care if people are offended by it, i find amusement in the offense of others. I feel like I'm living in a dream.

Everyone going to think I was drunk when I wrote this, but I'm not, in fact I'm totally sober. Jut in one of those states I drift in and out of where I feel like I'm watching life like an outside bystander, that it's surreal and not entirely sure things are actually happening or if it's a dream. I love that state, it's like watching yourself direct a movie of your life live and you are somehow in the audience, all at the same time. It makes it dangerous to drive sometimes as you loose a sense of space and depth a little, so you cut corners to sharp and that sort of thing. Fear will usually slap you back into things, and it's an ugly feeling.

I'm tired and since I'm already in bed I think I'll close my eyes for a while. I hope everyone reading this is happy, and their dream are sweet, or at least their semi conscious dream like states are. If they aren't, they should get in touch, we should walk together and figure out why.

Fuck, spelling error city.. going to have to spell check.

Food. Fatty. Food

They say a waist is a terrible thing to mind. Mind you, my mind minds my waist is no longer shredded like a washboard with quarters bouncing off of it. Frankly, if when I approach hippies and the Amish shirtless -which totally happens all the time obviously- they aren't trying to half submerge me beside their drying rollers and do their worst, and three cheese blend in a bag isn't jealous because I've reached a shrededness they cannot even dream of, I'm not satisfied.

So I'm going to get back to the ol' fitness and stop eating like a bodybuilder on a stacking cycle, who then never works out.

Would you date me?

So, I am on a couple dating websites, this is no secret. I decided to make a new profile on them, and have included it below because I like it. Questions is: Do all the single ladies (all the single ladies!) say oh oh ohhhhh and put their hands up?

My name is Philip, or Phil. Most people call me Phil, while others call me names they have made up for me over time. People driving too slow in the fast lane in traffic call me crazy, or "an ***hole". Other people, like those too serious or sensitive for their own good, have stopped calling me.

If I checked out your profile, I definitely want to hear from you. The reason I didn't write first is probably one of two things. A) I didn't have time to write because I'm at work and someone needing me to do actual work rudely interrupted me. B) I couldn't think of anything to say other than "Hi, I'm Phil, and you are (have) hot tamales". Which, though clever like a fox, is something that would probably have you teaming up with the people driving too slow in the fast lane.

I think people would describe me as brutally honest, to a fault, if they had to say one thing about me. Why they'd have to say something about me is the real mystery. Perhaps the "held hostage for opinions bandits" have regrouped after their fall from the headlines, a direct response by the media to their inability to come up with a less literal name. I almost never lie, and I rarely if ever bend the truth. This results in a number of reactions. Tears, anger, or nervous laughter…. and sometimes sex. I stay honest for the laughter, of course.

My close friends have been known to warn people ahead of time when meeting me, and I usually like to let people know to never ask me a questions they may not be prepared to hear the answer to.

People consider me funny, if they have bad taste. I am very positive to the point of potentially giving you an aneurysm if you are a cynic. I tell a good story, as long as I have time to prepare before hand, meaning drink wine.

I'm currently working towards my aspirations of not working anymore. I am also trying to come up with other ways of living in irony. Once I'm retired I'll fill my life with travel, flying, sailing, and various other adventures, until I can't afford it anymore. Then I'll live my second dream as an aging homeless vagabond, trying to find something to eat in a small town where I'm not wanted, then bringing Brian Dennehy a war he couldn't imagine. They say anywhere is walking distance if you have the time, and enough shoes.

When I'm not working I'm usually at a cottage, traveling, camping, or out on the town with my group of most excellent friends, most whom I've known my whole life. I've known most of my friends longer than I can remember, because I have a terrible memory.


I dabble in photography, guitar and working out and other trendy and interesting sounding hobbies.

I love food, and everything related to food. Cooking, shopping for ingredients, learning about different cuisines, preferably by eating or preparing them. Even more preferred is having someone prepare them for me, so I get to eat them. Which is an unnecessarily complicated way of saying I like restaurants. I will try pretty much anything once, and most things twice because I have a bad memory.

Chain restaurants pretty much epitomize everything so grossly wrong with society, and the idiocy that encompasses most of it, so it is rare you'll find me at them. I'm more likely to be found at a pretentious little bistro, feeling self-important. This you find shocking, I'm sure.

Other than that I love a good laugh, and my taste in comedy is low brow, the lowest of brow... lower even than Tom Tucker's sons brows, which are, if you know family guy, impossibly low. My limited TV watching is usually based on clips shows and things I don't have to pay attention to for more than 5 minutes at a time. I pretty much stay away from any show that requires me to watch more than one episode to know what’s going on, because I have a bad memory. I think I mentioned that before, but... well you get it.

Get in touch if you are interested since I often forget I'm even on here or can't be bothered to come around because I'm on youtube watching children get the bejeezus scared out of them.