OK, so I’m drawing a blank here, and I keep going back to trying to write that damn song I lost before. That one I stole from the line I heard from that girl who was a riverboat captain. I can’t re-create it for the life of me. That’s what happens when your mind is as sharp as a piece of cheese… full of holes, and stinky.

So here I sit trying to kick-start my brain and all I can do is kick myself in the ass.

I would have probably gone for a bucket of blood today, but the bartender knows me too well and loaded me up with a Vodka and soda before I could say a damn thing. Then before I could start writing in walks this really hot twenty something and as the trickster fate would have it, she actually sits next to me. She tells me her name and that she’s a college student. But of course, she’s waiting for someone. She takes her slender, well-manicured fingers and taps the numbers of her hook up on the digital device that she holds like a junkie caresses a spoon. But the hook up shows up and misses her sitting at the front of the bar and waltzes to the back. The fucking troll. He didn’t even notice her. She waves him down. He doesn’t see her. Finally the bartender goes back and tells the idiot that the hottest chick in the bar is sitting up front and is trying to track her down. The fucking guy looks like a total dweeb. Typical. She’s hot and stupid and he’s a fucking troll. Life goes on.

Across the bar is a woman in her forties who’s wearing a wedding ring and has made sure that every guy in the bar knows it. She’s almost come on to every guy in this piss factory and for some reason they’ve rejected her, well not outright, but they’ve rejected her from omission. She so bored that she’s actually picked up the cell phone and is talking over the blaring tones of Al Green. Why do they need this cell phone thing? Can’t they just get together with the people they are talking to on the phone in person and just enjoy themselves? All of this makes very little sense to me.

So today on the satellite radio I had the time to listen to Cheryl Crow “All I want to do is have some fun,” (at least that’s what I think the title of the song is) and I think I heard it for the first time today. Now that may be hard to believe that someone who spent a whole lot of fucking years as a radio disc jockey never really listened to that song, but when you’re on the air you can’t really pay attention to music. It’s just the background of the job, and all the while the music is playing you’re trying to think of something brilliant or at least logical to say between the records. So, anyway, I’m listening to this song and I’m realizing for the first time that it’s actually a bar song. Of course no one hears anything else but the chorus, but it’s a bar song. It’s a one of those “traveling songs” much in the vein of one of those Allen Ginsburg poem/songs. It’s observations of the drunks in a bar in the middle of the day. I’m impressed. Tom Waits she’s not, but not bad.