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STUCK HERE IN FORT WORTH

Drinking a glass of whiskey.
Staring at a horse’s ass.
I’m stuck here in Fort Worth.
And it really ain’t half bad.
Since she kicked me out.
I have no place to go.
So for now I’m stuck in Fort Worth.
Fort Worth I’ll just call home.
The streets are still cobbled.
10-gallon hats are the norm.
The steaks are the size of the hats.
The tequila still has the worm.
They say everything is big in Texas.
I guess that’s pretty true. ‘Cause this hole in my heart’s the size of Texas.
Stuck in Fort Worth without you. “Do you want some beer to go?”
The bartender asks before last call. “Sure, why the hell not?” I shout.
Before I stumble and fall.
I kiss Fort Worth goodnight.
Down on my luck and now all fours.
Her lips taste just like sawdust.
No where near as sweet as yours.
And the streets are still cobbled.
10-gallon hats are the norm.
The steaks are the size of the hats.
The tequila still has the worm.
They say everything is big in Texas.
I guess that’s pretty true. ‘Cause this hole in my heart’s the size of Texas.
Stuck in Fort Worth without you. ‘Cause this hole in my heart’s the size of Texas.
And I’m stuck here in Fort Worth without you.

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Drinking a glass of whiskey. Staring at a horse’s ass. Those are the first two lines of the country song I’m writing. (at Fort Worth Stockyards)

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@hokenstein says this vintage record player was the inspiration for the design of the original iPod. All I see is a boob.

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The Iron Tone.
#sxswesteros (at Game Of Thrones HBO Exhibit)

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Directions to Carnegie Hall: Practice practice practice

Directions to the cheap seats at Carnegie Hall:
Practice occasionally when you’re not drunk. (at Carnegie Hall (Stern Auditorium/Perelman Stage))

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It’s said Einstein’s interest in science was inspired by his dad showing him a pocket watch when he was five.

Einstein’s wacky hair was obviously inspired by these.

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"And now I’m going to tell you what I know to be the three rules of show business." - David Lynch on Louie

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I hate mornings. Mornings suggest routine. Around the same window of time, like automated robots being powered on, masses of people do the exact same thing to prepare for the start of their day. And they do it without thought. Without individualism. Without soul.

It’s why Starbucks and breakfast tacos thrive. Admit it, on the Totem Pole of Taste, watery coffee and bland eggs in a tortilla really aren’t near the top at all (that’s reserved for Pinot Noir and ribeyes and queso), but people talk about them as if they’re sent from heaven. They only really “enjoy” them out of routine; one more need or two that helps complete their morning- “I need coffee.” “I need breakfast.” “I need to brush my teeth.” “I need to poop.” It’s all one in the same.

Whereas the night is unpredictable. It’s individual. It’s on our own terms. We go to bed at different hours; when we want to, when we say so. While one person lays their head down or reads a book, another may just be heading to the gym or to a bar, as someone else is looking for somewhere to get a really good burger and/or crack and/or sex.

Even the way we prepare to go to sleep can differ - one may have a common ritual of putting on pajamas and “The Soothing Sounds of Humpback Whales” while another just passes out from one too many beers - but we all do it on our time, at our own pace.

How exciting the night is- the thought that you, and only you, are doing what you are doing at that very late, dark minute.

This is why I’m a night owl.
This is why I love the night.
This is why I wish I was Batman instead of Ben Affleck.

Man, I really ramble a lot before I’ve had my morning coffee.

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Prison = The Island
Guards = The Others
Rooster = Polar Bear
Red = Sawyer
Miss Claudette = John Locke
Pornstache = Ben Linus
Taystee = Hurley
Sophia the Tranny = Mr. Eko
Crazy Eyes = Smoke Monster
Flashbacks = Flashbacks

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I just told the cashier at Bed, Bath and Beyond I’m buying a Roomba so that if I die and they don’t find my body for 6 months, at least my floors will be free of dust bunnies. She laughed. I didn’t.