Here is the first bit to one of my new stories--proving that lack of sleep and too much country music don't mix:
The only food I've had in the last two days is spoiled macaroni salad. Oh yeah, and the lime wedges in my 47 Coronas. It is a hot humid day as I sit on this New York apartment rooftop. Lucky for me I'm in my skivvies and have Hank Williams on the radio.
I watch the Manhattan women walking through the sidewalk heat waves. With my binoculars I get a bird's eye view of the beads of sweat trickling down their cleavage. As I grab another beer from the ice bucket I wonder how I got here.
It all started with a transvestite whore outside a Phoenix truck stop.
HA HA HA! I really like that "my brain's bleeding to death". Maybe you can write that into the story. I'd be happy to offer a continuation of the story, but my brain's beginning to bleed as well and this is a New York story, which means McC is in the driver's seat as far as I'm concerned.
continuation story might not be a bad idea. maybe not this one, being McC's story, but we should give it a try. i'm not sure if my brain is bleeding but i have drunk a bit and blood is pouring out of my ears...
I'm all for it too. I'm at work now so the creativity has been dulled for the moment, but I'll post a beginning if I think of one before someone else does. I suggest we start a new thread for it. It's like Improv-style writing. Cool.
I would expect that any story from the collective minds of paxacidians would contain at least one 10 year old drug addict. And if it didn't, you could add it yourself. that's the experiment...to see what kind of warped brilliance can be possible when you mix a few 30 something drunks, 20 something potheads, and the ageless wonder of creativity.
